Vol1
Sixteen years ago—
United States · Florida
The late night seaside sky is velvety black.
Some people say that you can see the starry sky as bright as a diamond by the sea, but the reality is that the artificial light of the Florida coastline will only make the night appear darker, and the starry sky exists on the photographer's camera and magazine photos.
The sea water beats the fine sand regularly, and some rubbish is left here.
Not far from the beach, there is a bonfire that is about to go out. It was left by a group of drunk boys and girls not long ago. They laughed and drunk in Rand's nervousness, and finally left, the bonfire emitted an orange-red Yuguang. Behind the beach is a grove of coconut palms, and then a road along the coast, the streetlights gleaming dimly like ghostly pale eyes.
The waves were so gentle that Rand could feel the white foam they left on the back of his feet.
Tears pooled on his chin and fell on the sand.
He didn't say a word, and yet there was a peculiar despair that spread around him, and it's usually hard to see this kind of thick and deep despair in a child (they are usually too naive to even understand the world) some too evil darkness), but in Rand's eyes, in his hair, on the surface of his skin, and in the depths of his soul, you could see that breath.
At this time, his hands and feet were tied with rough hemp ropes, and he was trapped on the back of a reef by Rogers, unable to move like a bug with all his limbs pulled out. At his feet, the body of a man was lying on his back.
The man's eyes were open, and the pupils had begun to cloudy, but the pained expression had been permanently condensed on the gray cheeks. A beetle poked its head out of his parted lips and crawled down his neck all the way to his belly. There, the blood that had begun to rot and the viscera splattered under the abdominal pressure had attracted many tiny creatures on the seaside to feast in the dark night.
Rand remembered what the man used to be. He had been trapped in a cage, and his well-maintained hands and feet had festered because of it, but his eyes were always as bright as flames. He reached through the gap in the railing to grab Rand by the edge of his shirt and told him over and over again.
"You're Rand Severs, you're the Severs child... I need your help, we have to escape from these devils."
However, now he doesn't look like that anymore.
…
"You look sad."
A little boy emerged from the shadows of the reef, he said to Rand. His voice was soft and soft, but Rand's body stiffened like a rock in an instant.
The boy was holding a thin lancet with blood on the blade. Rand knew stuff like this, and the boy had plenty of them. He had a Boy Scout satchel straddled around his waist, stuffed with all kinds of tools, sharp and not, the only thing they had in common was that they tortured people. It's just maddeningly painful.
"Rogers." Rand looked at the boy, and after a long time, he spoke shaky, and groaned in a hoarse voice. "What exactly do you want to do?"
Rogers, who was just a teenager like Rand at the time, gave a distorted smile under the moon.
"Rand, you've made a mistake," he said. "You've become a bad boy. Mommy wouldn't like your behavior. You're trying to let go of our prey...it's going to get Mommy in trouble. This is really, really a very serious mistake." He deliberately emphasized the word "serious", and while speaking, he put the lancet back in his bag, and then took out A pair of German kitchen scissors.
Rand almost screamed.
"No, no, Rogers, don't do this to me..."
He knew what he wanted to do, and Rand was overwhelmed with fear in an instant.
But Rogers still approached him.
This is a new pleasure Rogers has recently discovered. He will pinch the soft human flesh, and then use the scissors to cut the raised part directly.
Rand has seen Rogers "playing" with many "prey" like this with his own eyes. The tragic situation of those unfortunate people has made him have nightmares for a long time. The severe pain will make those people howl until the throat bleeds and incontinence, which is even more terrifying. Yes, this kind of abuse does not threaten their lives in a short period of time. Most people die from excessive blood loss and wound infection, and some people die from other diseases caused by pain.
Obviously, Rand's attempt to escape today completely angered Rogers.
"I was wrong, Rogers, please, Mommy's going to be pissed..."
In extreme panic, Rand calls the devilish woman mother, but after he does...
"Oh, I almost forgot." Rogers stopped suddenly, he blinked at Rand and grinned like a demon, "You know, it's always going to be a little noisy when you do this, just in case. One, you have to do some preparation."
He pulled out a vial of liquid from his satchel, and squeezed Rand's mouth open and poured it in.
The severe pain that cannot be described in words completely made Rand, who was still a teenager, completely collapse from body to mind.
He howled, trembled, and burst into tears, but after just ten seconds, his voice faded. It wasn't that the pain left, but his throat was so festering and swollen that he couldn't make any sound at all—the liquid Rogers poured into Rand was diluted hydrochloric acid.
Facing the trembling body under his feet, Rogers' fingers trembled a few times in the air like playing an invisible piano. He was so excited because of the direct pain of the other party that he couldn't help himself.
"Oh yes, that's it...that's it..."
Then he straddled Rand, grabbing his hair with one hand and scissors with the other.
"Let's have some fun... my little brother, my Rand."
He whispered softly.
Vol2
Sixteen years later—
USA Kansas
Rand's eyes opened, and he stared at Rogers, tears pouring out of his eyes from the shock of the memory.
He still doesn't know anything about his past, but that doesn't prevent him from using his body to remember that fear and despair.
He began to inhale involuntarily, his lungs making an old man's ho ho, and tears gushing out and running down his cheeks like spring water. He was crying like a five-year-old, or a wounded mental retard, Rand knew that, but he had absolutely no control over his body.
It was as if at this moment, his body was completely controlled by a ghost from sixteen years ago.
"Oh, that's it, that's right, that's it, my little brother, you remember me now? Kind of a disgusting 'friendship' game, after all that way you'll open up more to me and trust me more. Alas, it's a shame that things don't always go the way you want, and you end up finding those things... you know Yes, some things are less interesting and fun if they are exposed. Now, it's time to think about me, Rand...you should know who I am!"
Rogers was particularly happy in the face of Rand's gaffe, shouting frantically and pounding on the table with his fists clenched.
"You know, Rand, I always remember you, you are the most perfect and amazing work of my life..." Rogers played with the dagger in his hand, he still spoke in that feminine tone, the dagger The tip scratched over Rand's body.
He didn't care about strength, and sometimes he would use force less carefully.
Rand's body soon appeared one after another with thin bloodstains, which made Rogers even more excited than before. He even dragged down his pants and admired the blood that overflowed from Rand's body.
The perversion and darkness overflowing from him made Rand gag uncontrollably.
When Rogers tried to cup his face with his hands covered in that warm liquid and continued the meaningless chatter.
Rand sobbed and spat at him.
"I don't remember you," Rand said, then repeated, "I don't remember you at all, and I won't remember."
…
Rogers' expression froze for a moment.
The next moment, he started another round of beatings on Rand, until his body was completely paralyzed, and the pain was too painful to move. Then Rogers untied Rand's rope—the latter, like a sack full of grain, slammed to the ground the moment he untied the rope.
A small moan squeezed out of his lips, but was quickly suppressed by him.
Rogers reached for Rand's hair and dragged him directly to the rusted bed.
Rand felt salty, warm fluid gushing out of his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, and a bright streak of blood appeared on the ground the short distance he was dragged.
Rogers had Rand chained to the bed, and he looked like he was going crazy.
"Tell me, Rand, do you remember me now? God, I love you so much, my brother, wouldn't you like to give me a little mercy and remember me?"
Rand's eyes were swollen, and he couldn't even see Rogers' face.
"I fucking… don't remember anything… I… never remember the disgusting… perverted… stuff."
He said, his voice was muffled, like something was stuck in his mouth.
Rand licked his gums. Several of his teeth were loose.
There was a mouthful of blood in his mouth.
"It's so disappointing... I'll let you remember..."
Rogers kneaded hard on Rand's broken arm, and when he saw Rand's twisted face, he said angrily.
He took out a pair of scissors and dangled them in Rand's field of vision.
"Maybe being there will make it easier for you to remember that little good time I had with you - you gotta run away first, oh so cute, and you're carrying a damn pig, thought you could He also ran out."
The tip of the scissors in Rogers' hand rested a millimeter above Rand's eyeball.
His hands were shaking slightly physiologically.
"Mom is very sad, of course, I am also very sad, so I gave you some small punishment behind my back..."
Rand stared hard at Rogers (though he couldn't actually see anything at this point).
He recommended Rogers to buy the German-made scissors. The steel is very good, and it can easily cut the crab's armor... Countless fragments without any logic floated in his head.
Rogers' words continued.
"…you know, I never felt the beauty of 'death' and 'pain' before, you opened my soul, Rand, your pain was deep and soulful, and you rescued me. What did they say about me? Sociopathy? Antisocial personality disorder... relentless personality disorder... oh yes, and social pathology... but I know for myself that I'm just driven by a strong, unexpressed desire Driven, like a rocket that's been lit, that heat burns me... I cut through the people, I tortured them, I eased my pain and searing, but it wasn't that useful until I met You, Rand." Rogers watched Rand's eyes become real and solemn, "That night was a night bestowed by God, you made my desire sublime into the power of creation, and since then, I began to understand how to use those cheap The 'materials' make the most beautiful works of art, of course they end up being inferior to you, I've always dreamed of having you one day, I always thought that was impossible, but God loves me, you again appeared by my side."
Rogers was a problem child until the night he killed Rand.
Of course, he probably has more problems than the average problem child in the entire United States combined, and he is a very typical, hopelessly sociopathic personality.
And having a neurotic, high-IQ and serial killer mother made his situation worse.
After he learned to walk, his greatest joy in life was to torture and kill small animals. He could draw the power of joy from that blood and cruelty, just like a drug addict finds some pleasure from powder, and soon , the basic cruelty and killing of small animals can no longer satisfy him.
He would still kill things and torment them, but he could only feel restless, empty inside, a burning desire that made him as miserable as a traveler trudging through the desert without water.
He didn't even know how to satisfy this dark desire that grew out of his soul.
However, that night, he got a long-lost pleasure from the act of torturing his familiar people step by step. From that moment on, he regarded his atrocities against others as a kind of "creation", and those who died of abuse were his "arts".
The most terrifying murderer in the dark world, the "spider", hatched at that dinner...
Rand felt cold.
Blood spreads under his body.
Pain, cold and exhaustion wrapped around his body like thick wet parchment. Even Rogers' words were like cotton wrapped in cotton, becoming illusory and distant.
The stone house is very dark, and those shadows seem to be twisted at this moment, and there seems to be something whispering among them, conveying dark messages that humans cannot understand or hear.
"Crack..."
The sound of scissors closing sounded, oh, scissors that can cut crab shells.
Rand saw blood on the scissors, and there was a flash of light on the sharpened blade, also red.
"… Do you remember? My little brother Rand?"
Rogers bit Rand's ear and asked.
At this moment, the scenery around Rand suddenly distorted...
In his consciousness, the stone house where he was now disappeared like mist, replaced by the rough rock with the gentle sound of the waves, and the Rand Sivers from sixteen years ago.
…
Rand found himself sluggishly open, lying flat on the wet, salty sand.
He wanted to close his eyes, but found that he couldn't close them at all.
He heard a boy sobbing beside him.
"Woooooooooo... Rand... why did you die? Oh my God, Mommy will scold me! Hey, don't die, please, don't die."
He seemed to shove Rand's body, and Rand was forced to roll over.
Rand was now staring at Rogers at a very close distance, but the real demon looked at him tearfully like a boy who had broken a vase at this time, as if to check his physical condition.
When Rogers opened Rand's eyelids, Rand saw his blurry reflection in the other's eyes.
Sixteen years ago, the young Rand Sivers had gray skin and a stiff body. He opened his mouth slightly, and a smear of blood spilled from the corners of his mouth. His face also had the expression of panic and pain in despair. Hairy glass beads.
It was a face that only the dead have.
As if a blast of thunder sounded in Rand's consciousness, the bright light evoked all his sanity and memory.
He finally remembered what happened that night, and at the same time, it was something he never wanted to remember.
- On the night of hell created by Rogers sixteen years ago, the young Rand Sivers had already died under Rogers' torture.
Vol3
"You killed me… "
Before Rand knew it, he had said that to Rogers.
Tears welled up again.
"God...you...have...killed me..."
He repeated it again.
Rogers' eyes lit up at that moment, he held his face and jumped up in surprise.
"That's right! Ah, great! Look, you still remember it!" He dropped the blood-stained scissors and wiped all the blood from his fingers on Rand's face.
"I killed you and I watched your life take away... so beautiful..." Rogers said. "Like I said, I never thought that one day I would meet you again."
Vol4
In the minutes after human death, the brain can still keep working for a short period of time... that is, they will retain a small period of post-mortem consciousness.
At least for Rand.
Rand thought.
He did die, but he did feel what was happening around him.
Rogers pushed his body into the sea. The icy sea water wrapped him, wrapped him, and carried him with the tide to the opposite direction of the coastline, and while Rogers stood by the sea, he stared deeply at Rand's body, and his whole body was dizzy because of the special image of the body being soaked in the sea water. hard…
In fact, maybe if this process continued for a few more minutes, he would completely disappear into this lifeless body.
However, he didn't do that.
Because something suddenly washed out from the shallow seabed, it was a huge creature with damp, scales, and you couldn't describe it in words at all. It grabbed Rand's body straight and attempted to drag him to the bottom of the ocean.
But at this time, Rogers, who was observing the perfect scene, immediately noticed something was wrong. He roared angrily, grabbed a sharp knife from his bag and rushed out.
He wrestled with it.
A bloody smell began to appear in the seawater.
If Rand had the experience of working on Deep White's "Project Siren", he might have given the terrifying monster a name to his memory after thinking about it. In fact, that monster was nothing but the last Red Phosphorus caught by Deep White afterwards—it had only deformed red scales.
Of course, even now, no one knows what happened to this red scale.
For Rand, the only thing he knew was that this red scale was weak, very, very weak. It doesn't even have the ability to prey on its own, it's hungry, and it has an egg in its belly that is frantically absorbing nutrients.
It was hidden beneath the surface of the water on the beach, and Rand's blood made it familiar, and he tried to rush over to take his body for food supplements, but Rogers showed up.
The end result was that the deformed red scale bit off one of Rogers's hands, dragging Rand's corpse in his sight all the way to the bottom of the sea.
…
"Tell me, how did you do it? I've seen a lot of dead people, I know you must have died then, but you're here right now... And, from an albino cub to a Normal people…”
Rogers pressed Rand eagerly.
"Is it that strange creature? It brought you to life?"
Rogers stroked his prosthetic hand, looking more excited than ever.
You know, he has always kept his mother's body intact. If Rand really knows the secret of the resurrection, his favorite mother is likely to be able to return to him...
Thinking of this, Rogers simply could not tolerate Rand's silence at this moment.
He changed a tool, an awl.
"Tell me... baby... tell me how you did it..."
"cough cough..."
Rand struggled to raise his head, his face was soaked with blood, but his eyes and tone were still full of disdain for Rogers.
"I remember... I know what that was about..." Rand said to Rogers hoarsely.
"But... I... just don't tell you..."
…
Rogers' expression twisted.
"You really let me down, Rand, you bad boy."
After a moment, he screamed.
He raised the awl high, ready to drive the sharp metal rod into Rand's palm—
"boom… "
A creature that slammed in from the side of the stone house slammed him out with its tail.
A howl of intense anger sounded.
The fragments and fines of the masonry made a gray smoke in the air, and in this smoke, two blood-red rays of light were like a demon peeping through the fog of hell - Munster's eyes were blood-red, An almost beast-like gesture appeared furiously in the center of the room.