On an ordinary sunny day, an uninvited guest came to the longhouse. He stayed in an uninvited room like crazy. In the dead of night, a horrifying scream came from that room. The next day, the uninvited guest climbed out of the window and broke in.
In the clinic, doctors and patients behaved strangely in surprise, and fell from upstairs when they were panicking.
Out of a certain professional ethics, the doctor carried the unconscious madman to the hospital bed and treated him, but the woke madman left the place ungratefully and fled back to the longhouse.
His existence finally attracted the attention of nearby residents, but they did not dare to approach the madman. They only dared to peek at his crazy behavior outside the abandoned house where he was hiding. After one night, the madman discovered that he left the longhouse and went into a tavern.
Attic, sweep out the stuff in there. Tavern owner of course
The madman was not allowed to break into his territory and wanted to drive him away, but he was stabbed by the madman as soon as he opened the trap door. The tavern owner screamed for his men to rush in, but was driven away by the madman waving a kitchen knife, and then
, a madman breaks into a church, attacks defenseless believers, pierces their skulls and sucks their brains.
This is the "reality" I imagine.
Only in this way can we explain why no matter whether it is a charred monster or a sheep-headed cultist, even I, a human, can easily repel and kill people who are already afraid of madmen.
What just makes me wonder is why no police have come to arrest me so far? Even if I am not in Belfast, there should be local police or guards or someone to stop me instead of letting a terrible madman wander around the town.
When I got up from the ground and looked outside the church, I saw on the street outside the church, the node of my thoughts, swarms of twisted monsters like polyps formed by black hyphae, squirming and approaching here.
Police? Or guards?
I resisted the urge to escape and watched as these monsters, outlined by hyphae and with humanoid and polyp characteristics, approached me, making a buzzing sound similar to that of insects in the wilderness bushes.
I watched them approaching like dark clouds, and then the illusion of memory emerged again.
"Renner! Renner!" On the deck of the sailboat in the storm, I yelled at the old crewman next to me: "Damn it, how many times do you want me to tell you! I don't need you to come out to help in the storm! Now! Here you go.
Me! Get back to the cabin! Monkey, take this old thing back!"
The old crew member from Pojiao was dragged into the cabin by the thin sailor. I stayed on the deck and continued to help other people on the deck. "Be careful!" A shout suddenly sounded from behind me, and the old crewmember from Pojiao rushed towards me and knocked me down.
Towards the side of the ship and before falling into the sea, the torn white light suddenly illuminated the deck, allowing me to see the broken and fallen mast smashing his funny old head into his chest...
The flying sheep head badge overlapped with the sheep head lying in a pool of blood. I realized that I had committed an unforgivable mistake.
The mycelium monsters entered the guardrail and did not dare to approach me, but the hissing was even louder. I guess they asked me to throw away the sharp wooden thorns.
I stared at their exposed black clay-shaped throats, where the trembling sound came from, and hesitantly dropped the sharp wooden thorns. Sure enough, after I no longer held the weapon, the "police" stopped probing and squirmed closer.
Me, surround me. The black, sticky mycelium emerges from their amorphous abomination, but leaves a little space for me to breathe that confirms to me that they are indeed who they are.
I gave up resisting and just hoped to put an end to the mistakes I had committed.
A piece of mycelium pierced a small piece of my skin and injected a drug that made me drowsy. I suppressed the crazy blood in my veins that wanted to fight and let myself fall into an unknown dream. In the last moment of waking up, I thought, they will
Send me to a mental hospital or prison?
What woke me up was the echoing sound of water drops, the cold and wet rocky ground, the cold light reflected from the torch on the wall, and the distant swing of iron chains. I tried to sit up but failed. My hands and feet were tied by mycelium.
On the wooden board that looked like a torture device. "Is there anyone there?" I shouted outside the cell, but no voice responded to me.
I think the horrifying news about a murderous madman who hurt residents, broke into churches and killed priests and nuns is being spread outside. This makes me painful and shameful at the same time. It brings hope because I have had enough of this sick world and just want to return to normal as soon as possible and know who I am.
Who is it to become a notorious murderer?
This place came to me very quickly, and the distinctive squirming sound of mycelium, like the soles of thick boots, sounded from the end of the corridor. I raised the only head that could move, looking forward to the outside of the cage, hoping that someone would come to find me.
.The crawling sound got closer and closer, and then I came to the iron fence as I expected.
"Can you understand me?" I couldn't wait to ask them. The police or guards with sticky hyphae appearance made a harsh buzzing noise in the cramped cell. I thought they were trying to talk to me, or maybe they were cursing me.
, but I couldn’t understand, so that’s what I told him. After confirming that it was impossible for us to communicate, I asked them: “Who am I? Do you know me? Do I have any family members?”
I couldn't tell the emotions of these policemen from their abstract mycelial heads and buzzing sounds. I could only watch them enter the cell, secrete mycelium, cuff me, and take me out of the prison. I saw many people in the dark corridor.
There are many monsters locked in cells like me. They stare at me and release ferocious, twisted, dark, ominous, and hateful emotions.
I'm not afraid of them. These guys in iron cages are just criminals who steal and kill at most. They should be afraid of me. After they know my reality, they will tremble and think so with a sense of guilt. I don't know if their brains are like this.
Sheephead cultists...oh, here I go again.
Being led along the corridor, I could feel that I was walking upwards. After walking through the unimaginably long corridor, I was taken to a cave filled with torches, and saw mycelial figures wearing cloaks walking in the corridor.
A semicircle was formed in front of an altar with pillars of mold standing in front of it. The twisted posture turned into a terrifying shadow like a nightmare under the projection of torches, and it made a sickening and detailed humming sound.
I was brought to the altar, and people guarded me, pulling the mycelium on my wrist towards the mold column. Among them, a cloaked mycelium figure held the book of mold, greeted the worship of the surrounding figures, and preached
There are incomprehensible vicious words that make me irritated.
They want to sacrifice me.
I suddenly woke up and understood their behavior, and what I could imagine was: in the square illuminated by fire at night, residents gathered here, crowded. They shouted, hated, and agreed, waiting for the verdict of the guilty.
The leader ordered that the murderers who had harmed their relatives and friends would be hanged on the gallows.