Mo Yi reached out and pressed his backpack, and there was a soft rustle of paper in the nylon fabric under his palm.
He raised his eyes and looked out of the window. In the dark sky, the countdown timer emitting blue light was slowly changing the last digit, counting the elapsed time methodically second by second.
A new hour begins.
According to the crawling speed of the monster just now, it may have reached the downstairs now.
Mo Yi subconsciously squeezed his fingers, and the cold and sweaty touch just now seemed to be still in his palm, as if the thrilling scene just now hadn't ended yet.
He took a deep breath, walked a few steps towards the window, and placed the turned on flashlight on the dusty window sill.
Under the icy light of the flashlight, the tiny bones hanging in mid-air shone with a cold halo, and the goat skull hanging by the wall stared at him with empty black eye sockets, looking extraordinarily weird.
Mo Yi took a deep breath, looked away, and stretched out his hand to open his backpack.
Now that the dangerous period has passed, the attic can be said to be relatively safe.
In such a difficult dungeon, this kind of opportunity is rare, but it must be grasped carefully.
He took out the stack of papers that had been hastily stuffed into his backpack just now. The yellowed paper surface was crumpled due to Mo Yi's rough actions just now, and the edges were also rolled up, which looked a little pitiful.
Mo Yi smoothed out the creases on the paper carefully, and looked with the light of the flashlight.
It was a stack of letter paper.
One corner of it was fixed simply so that it did not fall apart.
—It seems to be the same texture as the folded letter paper hidden in the music box.
However, it is different from the crooked, slightly crazy handwriting on that piece of paper. This rough and yellowed paper is quite clean, with no other stains except for the dust on it. It is written in beautiful English. good education.
Each letter was addressed to a man named "Esther," but never appeared to be mailed, signed or dated.
Mo Yi read the above text:
"Erica has a little fever today, she seems to have caught a cold, other than that we are all fine, don't read."
He turned to the next one, and the brittle paper made a soft rustling sound under his fingers:
"It's still raining today. It's been seven days. The laundry hasn't been dried. Today John also fell down with a fever. God bless."
The paper seemed to have been soaked in water once, and the writing on it was somewhat blurred.
Mo Yi had some vague guesses in his mind.
He pursed his lips, hesitated for a moment, and then turned over the next one.
The handwriting on this sheet appears to be scribbled and flustered, and the rolled-up edges are stained with many smudges, and the more traces of scribbles and alterations there are:
"The doctor came today and they said Erica and John had typhoid, God they're not even eight years old, God help them."
The rest of the paper seemed to be soaked with tears, and the crumpled letter paper was a little brittle, like a pitifully shriveled dead leaf.
The handwriting on the next one became more and more scribbled:
"It's still raining today, Erica and John are burning red all over, I stay by their side, can't sleep all night, their thin breathing can almost tear my heart.
I beg God in the dark, let me take their place, just for a moment, take my life, let my children live...”
Acute typhoid, an equally vicious disease, was fatal in those days, especially among children.
So what does this have to do with the plague that has disappeared for nearly a hundred years
Mo Yi took a deep breath, frowned and opened the next page.
The handwriting on the next one became more frantic and scribbled: "The doctor said he couldn't do anything, how could it be! Rubbish! Rubbish, impossible, my Erica and John, they will live a long life, and if anyone deserves to die, it's me! "
"GOD PLEASE HELP ME" was written in other blank spaces of the entire letter paper, occupying all the empty spaces messily, and a desperate and crazy mother seemed to be right in front of my eyes, making it unbearable to read more.
Unexpectedly, the next piece of letter paper was extraordinarily blank and clean compared to this one, with only one line of small words on it:
"God doesn't exist."
Mo Yi's heart felt a little heavy, and he subconsciously caressed the silver necklace wrapped around his wrist with his palm. The heavy pendant on it was icy against his skin and fell heavily.
If there is no accident, the two photos here are these two children. They died of an acute typhoid fever.
He slowly ran his finger across the rough edge of the letter paper, and compared it with the previous one.
— This piece of letter paper is a little shorter than the previous one, as if part of it was torn off by someone.
Perhaps this is the key to this dungeon.
Mo Yi flattened the letters and carefully stuffed them back into his backpack. He looked up at the clanking skeletons hanging in the attic.
The dark eyes narrowed slightly, and the pale face became more and more bloodless.
Hope his conjecture is wrong.
Mo Yi picked up the flashlight on the window sill and roughly scanned the entire attic, just as he was about to continue looking for clues that he hadn't found just now—
There was a familiar sound outside the window.
"Crack" friction sound, rolling sound, and soft and indistinct humming sound.
Mo Yi was taken aback, walked back to the half-open window, poked his head out and looked down.
On the bare, barren ground, the fragmented man who had chased him just now was wriggling forward along the crooked path, and the skinny dead wood beside him pointed to the dark sky, looking strange and weird.
There were several bloody severed limbs next to the man's body, and he crawled forward beside him, leaving deep and shallow bloodstains on his back.
The man slowly climbed out of the suspended platform, and disappeared into the vast darkness with his rolling head and wriggling body.
However, beyond Mo Yi's expectations, those who followed the man, which should have belonged to the player's fresh severed limbs, changed the direction, wriggling and struggling to move forward there.
Mo Yi was taken aback for a moment, leaned out and looked out.
Those severed limbs slowly crawled into the back side of the house and disappeared from his sight. Only a long bloodstain remained behind, which looked particularly glaring on the barren land.
According to previous experience, these bloodstains will definitely disappear without a trace within ten minutes.
Mo Yi turned around abruptly, opened the hidden door on the attic floor, then quickly climbed down the wooden ladder, and ran out at his fastest speed.
The wooden floor covered with dirty carpets creaked violently under his feet. The thick dust was picked up by his movements and lifted into the air. The cold and damp air pressed against his cheeks, penetrating into his thin clothes, and the whistling wind Fill your ears.
Mo Yi ran across the corridor and came to the narrow and twisted stairs.
He held the handle of the stairs with his palm, and the flashlight in his hand shook violently with his movements. The light circle shone unsteadily on the crooked stairs, making people almost dizzy.
The sound of breathing and heartbeat mixed into a noisy tone, hitting the eardrums.
Mo Yi's lips were pursed tightly, the sharp lip line was tight, and a pair of extremely dark eyes were so focused that it made one's heart palpitate.
He ran down the stairs.
The other players who were still alive couldn't help being horrified when they saw him - when the man who was torn apart walked down the stairs, none of them thought it was possible for Mo Yi to be alive.
But he is still alive? !
Incredible!
Mo Yi ignored everyone's faces with different expressions, but quickened his pace, pushed open the wooden door that hadn't been closed and rushed out.
Only the bewildered players were left looking at each other.
Mo Yi ran out of the porch, and couldn't help but heaved a sigh of relief—it's great, the blood stains haven't disappeared yet.
He still didn't dare to slack off, maintaining the speed he had just now, walked quickly along the intermittent bright blood stains on the ground, and walked around the twisted shape of the house to the side.
On the way, Mo Yi saw several corpses that were also drained of blood. Their eyeballs were gone, and they should be those players who were killed by deformed mice after running out.
However, unexpectedly, the hands of these corpses were also missing, and there was not a trace of blood on the pale cut.
He frowned, and continued to walk forward following the bloodstains spreading on the ground.
Mo Yi turned around and went to a place he hadn't seen before.
Because the shape of this house is too strange, the vertically and horizontally protruding walls and twisted and protruding rooms block people's sight. If you just walk around the house, it is almost impossible to find the overlapping walls. There is also a strange land.
The smell of blood became stronger and stronger.
Mo Yi took a few steps forward, and the soil under his feet felt wet.
Unlike the vast and barren yellow land outside, the ground here presents a strange dark red color.
Mo Yi squatted down, picked up some soil in his hands, and twisted his fingers lightly, a wet bright red instantly appeared on his white fingertips.
Blood.
The entire land here is actually stained with blood.
Mo Yi stood up and looked around the land, barely discerning that the window protruding half of the corner around him was the kitchen on the first floor.
He frowned.
According to the rough map in his mind, this piece of land is probably in the center of the whole house.
The bloodstains on the ground slowly seeped into the moist and soft soil, and the originally clearly visible traces slowly disappeared.
Mo Yi took a few steps forward, and the shape of the land appeared more clearly in front of his eyes.
In the very center of the land, there are two protruding small mounds. The color of the soil on them is the brightest red, as if it has just been watered by blood.
In front of the mound stood two simple tombstones with two familiar names written on them:
"Erica".
"John".
In front of the tombstone was a torn piece of letter paper, and Mo Yi walked up to it and picked it up—it was the incomplete part of the last letter paper.
It has been almost soaked in blood, and only some vague writing can be discerned:
"Dear Esther, God has taken you from me, and I will never allow him to take our children again."
"—I will do whatever it takes."