Rogers took off the shirt as soon as he got back to his room.
On the collar, the small spot where the water had been splashed before showed charred marks in such a short time, as if Rogers had been working as a welder at the Rands a few minutes ago.
A very light fishy smell emanated from the piece of clothing.
Rogers stared blankly at the clothes in his hands and walked straight into his room.
Completely different from the fancy appearance, his room is very simple, with a bed, a chair and a huge workbench. There is no carpet on the floor, but a rough concrete floor. If there is something special, I am afraid it is the treated poplar wood boards attached to the walls, and there are sponge sound-absorbing sheets behind the wood boards. In short, no matter what Rogers does in this room, the sound is probably the same. It's hard to pass it on outside.
He took the clothes to the workbench and turned on the ultraviolet light. Under the special light, the small trace flashed with dazzling fluorescence.
"Oh, things seem to be getting more and more interesting," Rogers said with a sudden smile on his face, turning his head to the human figure on the bed. "I don't think it's an ordinary fish, honestly, it reminds me of that thing... what do you think? Mom?"
When he mentioned the phrase "that thing", a hand fell on his prosthetic limb and his fingers rubbed lightly on the DW logo.
…
Rogers waited for a while, and the room fell silent.
He didn't wait for any response.
But after a few seconds he shrugged and continued in a brisk tone with a hint of tolerance: "Oh, I know, I know, I'll take good care of him, no, Mom, how could I? Jealousy, he and I will always be your children, there is no closer family in this world than us, and I love him as much as I love you."
Then he put the shirt in a special plastic bag and sealed it.
He made another call.
"I'll send something to you to test..."
he said to the man on the phone.
Behind Rogers, a silver moonlight clearly fell on the bed from the gap of the curtains that were not fully drawn - dry hands were exposed from under the white quilt, and the black skin had completely shrunk, sticking tightly to the one Another human skeleton.
Rogers came over while talking on the phone, and carefully put his hand back under the quilt. From beginning to end, his attitude was gentle and sweet, full of happiness...
And outside Rogers and Rand's door, in the shadow of the apartment corridor, a woman nervously took a cigarette out of her pocket, lit it, and stuffed it into her mouth. Her hands trembled a little, after all, she didn't touch the powder after all... She couldn't buy much with the new money, not to mention she still owed a lot of money to her ex-boyfriend, who It just so happens to be the only dude dealer in Kansas who doesn't blacklist "Diamond A".
"... oh dear, don't do this, I'll get the money right away, I swear... I'll definitely make a lot of money this time, leave me some stuff, and I'll be right over there... oh, you better not ask , anyway, I have my way..." She stuck out her tongue and licked her chapped lips, her palms wet with sweat, "You won't believe it, you know the deep white Sivers, right... Yes, I got it Something that could make them pay... oh, damn—"
"Block A" listened to the busy tone on the phone, and the muscles of his face twisted in an instant. After she raised the curtain on her little secret, the other party obviously didn't believe her as she thought.
Instead, after a sarcastic laugh, he actually hung up on her.
"Do you think I'm a lunatic? Asshole, you'll regret it!"
"Diamond A" almost wanted to smash the phone in her hand like that, but fortunately, at the last minute, her sanity returned. She remembered that she still kept the biggest and best chip in her life in this baby's outdated phone. After muttering a few words into the phone, "Block A" turned around...
"Oh, God!"
She was so frightened that she almost screamed at the man who appeared silently behind her.
"Shh..."
The bright-haired man stretched out a finger, and he stared at "Square A" playfully, tapping his hand on "Square A"'s lips before the other party's series of curses blurted out.
"You're not a resident here," he said in a quirky and sweet tone, looking into the eyes of "Cube A" that had become dull from his long-term drug use, "who are you?"
Rogers noticed the woman in the shadow almost as soon as he opened the door.
He's changed into his clothes, a new pearl coat and peach tights, he's changed his blush, and he's repainted his eyeliner. All in all, he's ready to share a TV night with Rand, but the woman is like a jarring note that makes Rogers's introductory less smooth in the first place.
With just one glance, Rogers could tell that she didn't belong here.
It can be seen that the woman has actually dressed herself well, but the overly revealing skirt and exaggerated cheap jewelry with poor texture (even more intolerable is the terrible cheap perfume), all revealing her status.
A prostitute, a drug addict, a homeless...or all three.
From any point of view, she has nothing to do with the occupants of this apartment. After all, the rent of this apartment is not cheap (although it is still some distance from the top high-end apartments) .
Rogers also noticed the woman's scratched stockings and dust on her knees, some cobwebs still hanging in her hair - she didn't even come in through the gate, presumably because of the registration? She apparently climbed into the building through the ventilation window.
Considering what he had heard before - the thing that made Sivers give money - Rogers' gaze at "Diamond A" became so icy that the back of the pussy on the bottom couldn't help but shudder. A layer of goosebumps.
But the sad thing is that although she has already sensed the invisible fear, "Cube A" does not have enough wisdom to silence her. Of course, even if she is really silent, it is probably useless.
Her nerves grew more tense with the strange tension.
"... Of course I have something to do here, fuck you!" She lowered her voice, and quickly and nervously expressed a series of curses and threats to Rogers. Finally, she saw Seeing Rogers' outfit, he said contemptuously, "Damn shemale, you just need to take care of your own asshole!"
As her voice fell, Rogers' teeth touched the back of his lips lightly.
"Oh, okay," he said briskly, raising his eyebrows slightly, and he even took a step back. "Sorry."
"Diamond A" involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief after seeing his move, as if the invisible gun that was holding her back had been removed. She tossed her hair, and arrogantly walked past Rogers with her neck outstretched like a proud hen, ready to knock on Rand's door.
Then, she only felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck...
Rand felt like he heard something. He put the roast meat for the evening in the oven and hurried to the door and opened it.
However, there was no one at the door, but Rogers, who was facing the door, just stuck his head out and looked at Rand.
"Rogers? Did something happen just now? I heard..."
"A friend of mine is here temporarily," Rogers gave him an apologetic smile. "He has something for me, and he's on his way back to the plane to San Francisco. I'll take a beer to your house later. It won't take long."
Rand nodded dazedly.
"Oh, say hello to your friend for me."
He says.
He naturally wouldn't know that behind the door panel beside Rogers, who was in a gentle conversation with him, a woman was digging her throat frantically, her legs were kicking on the ground weakly, and her face had turned purple. , bloodshot eyes—and yet, the inherently raucous pre-game propaganda on the Rands’ TV, plus Munster’s protest slaps in the aquarium… The slightest movement didn’t even reach in his ears.
Rogers heard it, the smile on his face had not changed even the slightest, and in his hand, the plastic tie between the woman's neck was getting tighter and tighter.
When Rogers and Rand finished chatting and closed the door, "Cube A" had completely quieted down.
The woman's body lay there, some hair covering her face, her neck and fingernails covered in blood, and the eyes were wide open, looking lifelessly at something on the ground.
Rogers kicked her with his toes unhappily, and rubbed the center of his eyebrows in annoyance.
"Damn... I just bought cream, there's no room for you in the fridge..."
…
An hour later, Rand frowned as he watched the countdown on TV, opened the door and knocked on Rogers' door.
"Rogers? I think the game is about to start, are you sure you're coming today?"
He's a little disappointed, after all being able to watch games with friends has always been a little dream of his -- it might be hard to understand for some, but Rand has never been the sociable type before.
He even made a grilled burger for the evening, which would be quite good with mustard and beer.
Rogers yanked the door open, and Rand smelled the scent of shower gel on him.
"I'm really sorry, I'm fine... I just accidentally spilled my coffee and had to take a shower but you know I have to take off my makeup before I shower and it's such a hassle I really don't understand why my friends love coffee so much . . . ” he uttered a barrage of complaints.
Rand unconsciously saw Rogers' living room through the crack of the door, with an empty coffee cup on the coffee table.
"Your friend is gone? So quiet I didn't hear anything."
Rand and Rogers said absently.
Rogers laughed. "Oh yeah, I think he's crazy, he's almost late... oh, speaking of this..."
Rogers suddenly patted his head, he rushed back to his house, and then appeared in front of Rand with a large bag of meat that smelled strongly of blood.
"This is?"
Rand involuntarily took two steps back. He stared at the thing in Rogers' hand, and the smell of that thing made him feel inexplicably wanting to vomit.
"Vison," Rogers said with a smile, "my friend hit a deer while driving, and I don't know what he's doing... Maybe he's trying to make fun of me, of course, maybe because he's coming back soon. San Francisco didn't know what to do with that dead deer...he gave me this shit anyway."
Rand's face paled.
"Oh, for God's sake, why did you give me this? You can throw it away if you don't want it."
"Actually, I was about to do this, but I suddenly thought of that little pet in your house." Rogers walked into Rand's house with the bag of meat. "If it has chicken and beef in its recipe, I don't think it will refuse venison."
"No, I think I'm still..."
The game on TV had started, but Rand was completely oblivious. He felt agitated, and racked his brains to reject Rogers, but when the latter got stronger, he would become Rand's worst kind of person.
Rand didn't know how to describe the current Rogers - his smile was still so bright and his voice was low, but he looked like a demon who loved to trick humans.
You know something is wrong, but you never know how to deny it from happening.
Rogers went to the kitchen, pulled the fork out of the drawer, stuck the bloody piece of "venison" on the fork, and handed it to Rand.
"Just try it, maybe Munster will like it?"
Rogers lowered his voice and coaxed Rand softly.
Rand looked at Rogers in a trance.
He even had an inexplicable feeling, as if he had encountered the same thing a long time ago. A strong sense of prostration crept into his brain, and by the time Rand came back to his senses with a quick wit, he was already standing beside the aquarium.
He reluctantly put the piece of meat above the aquarium, frowning tightly.
"Hey, I really don't think it's great, and Munster just ate something, I don't think it's going to be appetizing..."
His murmur, however, was interrupted by Munster.
The damn little monster rushed up with a clatter and swallowed the meat in a way that Rand had never seen before.
"Look, it likes this."
Rogers blinked and smiled at Rand.