Eve forced Ryan and Ally to leave the room at 8:5 in the morning, hoping that they would disappear in front of her first patron, or what you call a connoisseur would appear. I am more worried that when they are alone in the corridor, rather than alone with a worker, what I expect makes me even more nervous. I watched Ryan close the door behind me, my heart filled with fear, making my limbs heavy and my heart beating faster.
"How do you explain why I am here?" I asked Eve when we were alone. Still by the window, I glanced at the little man below, beating on the condensed street like a platelet.
She put her hand in front of the shirt again, and raised one room, then another. "I will find a way"
I dare not ask what "something" means.
"What are they screaming there?" she asked, satisfied now, her breasts were a few inches higher on both sides.
"The Pioneer Group agreed to hold the first NRD meeting in history next month. The church is not very happy about it," I replied. I know this because Ellie told me.
"I hope they shut up," she said. She blushed. "This is worse than an abortion clinic."
I thought she was referring to the Women's Health Clinic on Fourth Avenue and State Avenue. "They did more than abortion there. I believe people also like free annual check-ups and contraception."
Eve smiled triumphantly. "Have you been to that place?"
I diverted my attention. "No."
Let me put it this way, I am not afraid of dying of cervical cancer.
She shrugged. "That's a nice place."
"You speak as if you often go there."
"Free xìng disease testing," she said.
I must have made a face. "You need protection." This is not a problem.
She folded her hands on her chest. "I will do my best to keep my children in good schools"
I do not know what to say. Then she handed me a picture: deep braids, her mother's big eyes and beautiful smile, dimples, for God's sake. I murmured a few compliments and felt that the heat on Eve's face rose after giving birth to a beautiful little girl.
"She went to St. Mary's Hospital," she said. I recognized the name of the prestigious private primary school on London’s West End Avenue.
"Don't you need to be admitted to that school?"
"My child passed easily," she said, returning the photo to her wallet. "She is as smart as her father." Her face turned red and her eyes were wet. "She's why I did this," she whispered, and I don't think she wants me to hear the last words.
I want to know if one of her patrons is the father of her child. It doesn't matter. I can't remember me, Eddie, my mother's successor.
I again asked the protesters for help. They marched around, forming a circle, their signs swaying on their heads. Considering my situation, I will not judge someone because they are different, not because society thinks they are different. How can I apologize to Eve
Before I had time to come up with a good idea, someone knocked on the door.
"This is Charlie," she said, escorting the young man into the room. His smile brightened her face. Charlie has bright orange hair and many freckles, so that it looks like a skin disease. He emptied all the money in his pocket, just like a kid gave him lunch money, but under the light of vanity, I saw at least two hundred dollars in bills.
"Who is she?" Charlie asked. He put his cunning hands in his pocket.
"A voyeur, dear," Eve said. "Just what you need."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Eve rejected me. "Don't be shy, sweetheart. Charlie likes to have an audience." He blushed deeper. "Humiliation is his specialty."
Then she slapped him. Echoes filled the air. I instinctively stretched out my hand, but as soon as I saw his face, I withdrew it. His eyes became dull, and I can only describe it with calm ecstasy.
"Isn't it, baby?" Eve asked him, licking his hair. He smiled and nodded slightly. She hit him again and he went to heaven.
It turns out that all Eve’s customers have their own business. I think the most interesting are:
"It needs to be about 10 inches long. Do you see it? Just like this picture."
"Put on this hat. I am the boat"
"Just take a deep breath and we will try to fold it in another way."
"Meow. Poole." (Yes, like a cat. Only the cat-related voice repeats for about 45 minutes.)
No matter how many toys she took out of that mysterious black bag—gel, handcuffs, ball plugs, collars, whips, seat belts, butt plugs, toys, black radio CDs, in the wardrobe in the corner, it seems There is an endless storage vault. It's like a clown car. She does not always have a xìng life. Interestingly, this situation is rare. Once she did this, I diverted my attention. I would stare out the window, use the bathroom or fix the bedside lamp. For some reason, it won't sit well.
When Eve's last customer showed up, the things in the hotel room became very interesting. Just before two o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Brad Strum walked in the door. I have to say that Eve looked depressed when he saw him.
Although she introduced me, she did not make up a story this time. This is a surprise, because for the past six hours, I have been a voyeur, a xìng worker in training, a social psychologist and her parole officer.
He is a disturbing ordinary person. I couldn't find a feature that would make him stand out in the crowd.
Eve untied her shirt and her hair fell down, and Mr. Strum easily overwhelmed her in the face. Her skirt turned upside down and leaned against her back. From what I occasionally saw this morning, this is similar to Eve's xìng life. When my eyes caught a glimpse of the long curves of her hips and exposed thighs, I blushed.
In the embarrassing situation, I thought that she might not even die in this room. She might be attacked on the street, or hit by a car or something, and I had to watch it all for no reason. Who has been in sex all day? Well, most of this is not about xìng, but isn't she hungry? Doesn't she want a cupcake or Frappuccino? I want to eat. I'm not even the one who gets exercise.
I checked the clock at 2:28 pm, and I felt dizzy. Anxiety slipped across my chest like a second skin. A blast of cold air blows through the room, which means to an alternate agent, Reaper, knocking the door so loudly, has come in and announced his position.
I turned around to check my charge and found Brad was choking her neck. Her face has become red, purple and blue, so I have to make a decision. I tried to pull Brad away from her, but she said, "No."
"Do you want him to do this to you?" I couldn't believe it.
Although her hand was on her throat, she nodded and reached out to grab my hand.
This is a test. See how far you can go.
Over the years, every bit of training Brinkley has given me is working. It is important to understand that death is inherently unstable. Replacing deaths is different from preventing accidents. A good agent is needed to keep this in mind.
That's why I had to let Brad strangle Eve instead of suffocating him to see how much he liked it. According to Brinkley's rules, my only option is to give Eve my hand to replace her when the time is right, if it will kill her. However, in order to join and change the status quo, the forecast of. After all, before this, I had never been involved in her life. If I change, I will change her way of reading.
I even have an FBRD contract that says I can’t do anything to change the situation of a replacement.
So I reached out to Eve.
Brad reached out his hand, as if I had raised it myself. This is not the first time I have received such an invitation today. I told Brad—as I told others—I am here for her, not for him. I reached into her hand and let her squeeze it out.
But this seems to be wrong. Choking in a hotel room is too easy, so it can be prevented. I had to catch the person who fell from the stairs. When the sound of metal around us surrounded us in the cruel car wreck, my arms wrapped around people. I even had to replace a baby who would die in childbirth while in the mother's body. But this one
Eve certainly didn't die like this.
It doesn't feel right. Why didn't my eyes turn into their weird zombie vision? Infrared rays, shè lines, or other weird electronic things that happened to me when I replaced someone. These weird things make me sound more like a monster than an unfortunate person with a neurological disease. .
I thought of Ryan and Ally. They are very comfortable in the hall, but here I struggle with the burning pain in my chest. I blocked my mouth, but there was no air coming in or out of my lungs. At least I realize that this is a sympathetic injury, which my body has experienced, because Eve has experienced it. I am sure that if I hold the mirror at my face, I will see every small vein protruding from the surface. I didn't let go of her hand, although I wanted to grab my throat and try to pull out anything that choked me.
The pulse in my ears drowned their noises, their angry slapping and depressed body collisions, faster now and time and the moaning bed of protest. The impact on my chest was so severe that my heart would either crush its bones or my lungs would not survive the impact. For which ** can survive, this will be a melee. (To be continued) (End of this chapter)