This place is originally "Purgatory", but now, it has something more called originality.
Just like the imitations of some international brands, the difference in quality is very small, and some imitations are even better than the real ones. But in the eyes of consumers, the real ones have an atmosphere and purity that belong to them.
at the moment,
The real devil has come.
All beings are equal,
In front of hell,
collective,
Tremble!
The instruments in each laboratory began to tremble at this moment, as if they had sensed a magnetic field and a call. The previous killing weapons and tools seemed to have their own consciousness at this moment.
They began to cheer, they became active, and they were even a little impatient, waiting for a new round of feasting for the devil.
There were the sounds of chains rubbing, scalpels and forceps colliding, stretchers creaking, doors and windows rustling, and even the crematorium where corpses were cremated.
There are also ashes.
Flying around.
A series of sounds, some high, some low, some neat, some chaotic, were perfectly integrated together at this moment, forming an exciting rhythm, just like Beethoven's "Symphony No. 5", which slowly began at this moment and reached its climax.
This is a kind of aura, and also a kind of rendering, real gloom, real horror, a bit like the candlelight on the table, it will not bring any change to the taste of the dishes,
But this sense of form,
Indispensable.
Zhou Ze, who was missing half of his arm, walked in the research institute very slowly;
Watching myself eighty years ago making his own judgments and killings,
first,
Zhou Ze truly realized that
die,
It turns out that it is really an art.
With its own unique rhythm,
It has its own unique flavor.
It's like fine wine that has been stored in the cellar for many years. I was intoxicated by the aroma of the wine before I even drank it. Now I savor it slowly, sip by sip. The aroma enters my mouth, flows through my nose, and finally falls into my stomach. The spicy taste instantly spreads throughout my body.
It's so comfortable and enjoyable that you can hardly restrain the urge to let out a ****!
The people in white coats were running back and forth in the research institute like headless flies, screaming, crying, and roaring. When the identities of the devil and Malu were swapped, it was proved that no one was nobler than the other. In the same position and situation, everyone was the same.
At that time, when facing the struggles and wailing of the prisoners in the testing grounds, they might still be able to chat and laugh, and discuss which comfort station nearby offered better service.
At that time, they were outside and others were inside, but now they are inside and no longer have the leisure and ease they had before when they were outside.
They encountered the most terrifying "ghost wall". They knew they had to run, but they couldn't get out at all.
Just like the mice kept in containers in the laboratory, their fate is actually already determined.
Because of Zhou Ze's special instructions,
Therefore, the following death scene is not as clean as the first one. Before, it was the blooming of the ephemeral cereus, but now, it takes you from bud to bud, to full bloom, and then withering.
Every process and every link is indispensable.
From the cultivation of fear, to the repression in the early stage, the details in the middle stage, to the extension of pain in the later stage, the flower of life, so delicate, has been slowly burned in countless ways.
Death will not let you die easily, nor will it let you die simply. It will squeeze out every bit of your fear, release your last bit of pain, and even will not let go of your soul.
Don’t think that the end of the physical body is liberation.
The real struggle between life and death actually just begins after your physical body ends.
You know, the soul is more sensitive than the body, and the punishment of hell is mostly targeted at the soul.
If the body is likened to a bag, then the soul is the head hidden inside.
Who is more sensitive
I understand.
The art of killing,
The vortex of death,
Constantly noisy, constantly wandering, and constantly intertwining.
Zhou Ze lowered his head.
He saw the blood on the ground seemed to come alive, like a landscape painter painting with ink, constantly changing its appearance.
Eerie, mysterious, and spooky, it was like the embellishment of the night sky by the stars, carrying with it a kind of mockery and sarcasm that did not even need to be concealed.
Pools of blood continued to extend over and turned into blood-red lotus flowers at Zhou Ze's feet. On each petal was a painful face, which were the souls of the white coats who had just died. This was their confinement, this was their feast of horror.
It’s just like watching the images on a black and white TV when I was a kid, with lines and blank spaces. The lines were very messy and the white was not so white. The hustle and bustle of changes made people dizzy, nauseous and sick.
Zhou Ze bent down.
He covered his chest with his only remaining hand.
I feel a little nauseous.
It's not sympathy, nor pity, it's just a simple surprise.
Myself eighty years ago,
Compared to my current self,
Seems even more cruel and ruthless.
That mutilated body is still walking among them,
He was walking slowly, as if he was appreciating his own masterpiece.
At a certain time,
He appeared in front of a living man in a white coat, treated him as a side dish, threw him into this passionate symphony to become one of the notes, or squeezed out his blood to supplement this bloody romantic watercolor.
He didn't smile.
In fact, he had his eyes closed except for the time when he opened them to look at Zhou Ze.
Looks a bit careless.
But he is like an artist who pursues perfection the most. He is a band conductor who fulfills his duties conscientiously and does everything to the best of his ability to satisfy the audience.
Oh no,
In fact, it is to satisfy himself.
A dream that crosses eighty years of time and distance,
They are located at two ends of the time point.
What is a dream
What is the false part of the dream that can be changed
Zhou Ze didn't understand and didn't comprehend.
But probably,
My self from eighty years ago woke up here, started killing here, and started purifying myself. This should be true.
As for whether he had seen himself now eighty years later, and whether he had made this extremely simple killing process for him more complicated, more tiring, more lengthy, and more enjoyable because he had accepted his commission,
That remains to be seen.
If you want to know the truth,
We can only wait to dig out the secrets underground.
Leave this dream,
In reality,
To see the traces left over from eighty years ago,
This is the only way to get the most correct judgment.
However,
Suddenly,
Everything seemed to be accelerated.
Zhou Ze suddenly discovered that the blood on the ground that was originally changing patterns began to boil.
The white coats and gendarmes who had been waiting to join this feast in turn were almost all thrown into various laboratories. The experiments in the laboratories began to continue, the tools and equipment began to operate on their own, various experiments started again, and even the record books and pens started to fly by themselves to make their own records.
However, the raw materials are no longer the roads they used to talk about, but have become themselves.
But this change in melody made Zhou Ze feel a little frightened. When he looked at the broken figure again, he found that the figure had appeared in front of him.
He clutched his own half head with both hands,
It seemed very painful.
The body is shaking constantly.
It's like I can no longer control myself.
Everything around him is his work, his art of death. Everything changes according to his state of mind. When he gradually falls into madness and loses control, everything around him begins to extend towards the cruel and violent aesthetics.
Screams,
Howling,
There are living people,
There are dead souls,
They suffered even more in this.
Suddenly,
The broken figure opened his eyes, and there was a blood red in his eyes, which made Zhou Ze a little dazed for a moment.
He was shouting something to himself.
He was telling himself something.
But damn,
Why can't I hear a single word
"I can't hear you, what are you saying!"
Zhou Ze shouted at him. He knew that what the other party said must be very important. It might even be a message left for him by his past self eighty years ago.
pass…
The form of dreams.
But he couldn't hear anything, really couldn't hear anything. In addition, the other party was on the verge of losing control and was shouting almost roaring. Even if Zhou Ze understood lip reading, he couldn't analyze what he was saying.
"boom!"
"boom!"
There was a series of explosions.
This is the sound of several exits being blown up.
No Japanese dared to go down anymore, so they planned to close off the place.
At this time,
That broken figure seemed to be getting crazier and crazier.
The blood on the ground continued to rise and slowly covered Zhou Ze. At first, it only reached Zhou Ze's feet, then slowly reached Zhou Ze's knees, and finally, it covered his waist.
Zhou Ze really wanted to call out to that figure again. He really wanted to know what he had just said, but Zhou Ze had no time to ask or do anything else because he was completely submerged in blood.
“Gulp…”
Body,
Like falling into the depths of the ocean,
All around,
It is the loneliness that makes one despair.
And below,
There is a broken figure,
It seemed as if he was also looking up, but the distance between them was getting farther and farther at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The buoyancy began to grow stronger and stronger, Zhou Ze's speed of ascent began to increase faster and faster, and the feeling of suffocation and panic became more and more intense.
“Puff…”
When Zhou Ze surfaced,
He sat up directly from the sofa.
“Huff…Huff…Huff…Huff…”
Zhou Ze was sweating profusely, his whole body was soaked.
Bai Yingying beside him was still sleeping, but her hair had returned to its young black color, and even her skin had become tighter and more elastic, as if water would come out if pinched.
Just like a fresh flower bud, well moisturized by the morning dew.
Zhou Ze put his hand on his forehead.
He still hasn't come back to his senses.
The previous scenes were really too crazy and too frightening, especially the artistic sense reflected in the killing, which made people feel like they were in the center of a symphony orchestra.
No, it's the exact center of the tsunami!
At this time,
Zhou Ze's cell phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
It turned out to be a call from Zhang Yanfeng.
I answered the phone and said "Hello" weakly.
Zhang Yanfeng on the other end of the phone seemed very excited. There was also a huge sound of mechanical roaring beside him. He shouted loudly:
"Hey, the higher-ups have agreed. We have to start digging. We have to start digging..."
Starting to dig
Zhou Ze was still a little confused.
What to dig
But soon,
Zhou Ze suddenly woke up.
He immediately pointed the phone at his mouth and yelled:
"You can't dig, you can't dig now,
Don’t dig it out!!!”
———
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Don't panic,
Hold on to the dragon!