Vol1
The bright red blood was a palpitating contrast to the unusually pale skin on Rand's fingertips.
Rand stared at the piercing red, feeling dizzy.
Seconds later, Rogers knocked on the Rand door.
It seems that he has settled his friend... Rand thought, but soon another voice sounded in his heart.
Is that really his friend
Before Rand went to open the door, he subconsciously washed the blood from his fingertips.
For some reason, he instinctively didn't want Rogers to find out that he had noticed that drop of blood.
"Hey Rand, sorry for the delay, I…"
Rogers returned to Rand's apartment with the same friendly smile he always had, and he was about to find a reason to get rid of the "night watch" task. After all, it takes some time to dispose of a dead body.
Out of the killer's habit, he quickly looked around the kitchen, including all the dead ends, and because of this, he immediately found a bloodstain that had been wiped away on the floor where he ended Thompson.
Someone found it.
Rogers blinked.
His expression didn't change in any way, but his hands seemed to be behind his back inadvertently.
The blade hidden in the fingernail popped out, and Rogers cut a small incision in the pulp of his finger.
"…I'm afraid I won't be able to stay with you all night, my friend is so drunk that I have to watch him. You know, if I go back the next day in my own bed and see a vomit A good friend who choked to death with something blocking his windpipe, that's a big problem."
He stared at Rand and said.
"Oh, okay, okay. Go take care of your friend. I feel better now than before, and I don't think there will be any problems."
Rand was stunned after hearing Rogers' words, and the touch of red lingered in his head as if it had taken root.
"that… "
After hesitating for a moment, he couldn't help but speak.
That, I found fresh blood in the kitchen.
For a split second, Rand almost said that to Rogers Six.
But it was at this time that Rogers suddenly scratched the back of his head and gave Rand an embarrassed wry smile.
"Oh, yeah, almost forgot about this—do you have a Band-Aid?" He held up his bleeding fingers to Rand, "I was in your kitchen just now by that damn grocery bag. I hurt my hand, I thought I had Band-Aid stuff at home, but I didn't think I had used it up long ago. Alas, that's why I hate grocers, those plastic bags are so soft, but you always get caught by that Cut the sharp edges."
Rand looked at the counter, and found that there were piles of snacks that Rogers had prepared for his "night vigil", some vegetables and fruit crisps, one of which had been opened.
"You should have told me earlier, I think I should have a Band-Aid, I'll go and find it for you."
Rand said, his tone lightened. He obviously didn't notice the relief he was exuding when he spoke.
And Rogers was keenly aware.
His eyes darkened.
Looking at Rand with his back to him, looking for the medical kit in the drawer, Rogers thought for a moment, then suddenly said, "Hey, Rand, I have an idea. You know, you can't always be like this, because you are worried Those 'superhero diseases' of your own body and not sleeping through the night. Well, I have a nice place in the suburbs, a farm, deserted, where I make my organic cat and dog food, and sometimes Stay there for a few more days. I'm sure the living facilities there will allow you and your little monster to stay there comfortably, you see, even if you do have some problems with it, the worst is only a few Damn hares and raccoons - I'd rather you help me with those nasty little beasts..."
Rand looked back at Rogers.
When he heard the other party say that there was no one there, Rand was already moved.
"God, can you really lend us that place? That would be great!"
He was immediately happy.
"Oh, Rand... it's a Band-Aid thank you."
Rogers smiled, he came to Rand's side, put his hand into the drawer, took out the medical kit from the deepest part, and then took out the bandage and shook it in front of Rand's eyes.
Vol2
Late the next night, Rogers took Rand and Munster to where he said he was.
Like Rogers had said, the area around his farm was deserted—perhaps a little too deserted.
Halfway through the road, Rand found that his cell phone had no signal.
The road to the farm was very narrow, and the ruts on the ground were clearly Rogers's only. After leaving the artificial light source, the night became extraordinarily thick and dark, and the world seemed to be suddenly condensed into a small cloud of dim yellow on the car lantern cover. Even with Rand's current beyond mortal sight, the view out of the car window was blurry and dark to him, er, the bushes had only dark outlines, like paper cutouts left by the devil when he was bored.
"Don't worry," Rogers said, looking up in the rear-view mirror, "I have a satellite phone in my farm room, and it won't keep you connected to the world. Of course, it won't be too convenient, but I I think you wouldn't mind not being able to browse the web."
Rand pursed his lips: "Being able to escape those reporters has made my breathing a lot easier."
he said.
Munster curiously put his face on the window and peeked out, like a puppy letting out the wind. He seemed extraordinarily uninformed and excited, which made people feel sad. Presumably because of this, Rand allowed it to put its tail on his lap. He even took a small box of sea salt for body scrubs out of boredom and started cleaning the gaps in the scales on Munster's tail with a toothbrush.
I have to say that with Rand's current state, being able to escape from the crowd really gave him a sigh of relief.
They arrived at their destination an hour and a half later.
Rogers' ranch is divided into two parts, a colonial barn that he converted into a place to live, and a bungalow that looks a little rough.
"That's where I work."
Noticing Rand's gaze in the direction of the bungalow, Rogers said nonchalantly.
The room he prepared for Rand could not be described as luxurious. In fact, the room divided by wooden planks was even modest. Against the wall, there was a double bed—or rather, one wider than normal. A little single bed.
Rogers rubbed his nose in embarrassment.
"Sorry, I'm a bachelor after all, and if I bring a woman, she can stack with me too."
He said, his eyes fell on Munster, and his expression became a little stiff, "Uh, there may be some problems with Munster's body shape, I will go and see if there is an air mattress..."
"I can also stack with Rand, and I'll wrap his tail around him."
Munster, who obviously didn't quite understand the true meaning of what Rogers said, stood up a little angrily.
After the second cocooning, its strong muscles and broad shoulders made it miss many opportunities to be held in Rand's arms. The so-called "huge body" has become something that will make it painful kind of thing.
"Calm down, Munster."
Rand's cheeks were a little red, he whispered to Munster.
To avoid embarrassment, he walked around the room casually.
"Um?"
His discovery made him utter a puzzled sound.
"This window..."
He opened the window that was much smaller than the room, and the iron fence cut into about fifteen square centimeters covered the outside of the window.
Rand reached out and shook the thumb-sized rails, finding that they were very solidly welded.
"Oh, it was done by the previous rancher," Rogers explained briskly. "Have you forgotten? I told you before that this was a converted barn, and Mr. Grandet has been Worried that someone would come to steal the wheat...he had a lot of pumpkins stolen before...and then he did this. It's a little uncomfortable, doesn't it?"
Rand twitched the corners of his mouth and closed the window, letting the venetian blinds cover the distasteful fence.
"It's okay. I'll get used to it."
He says.
Munster seemed to be eager to try it. It stared at the fence for a while, and seemed to want to try to break it. Rogers looked at it for a moment, then turned his gaze back to Rand before turning his gaze back.
A somewhat tricky one - thought Rogers.
Vol3
After unloading the luggage that Rand and Munster had brought from the car, Rand noticed that Rogers had also taken out two large blue incubators from the back of the car.
"What is this? Need my help?"
Rand helped him get the boxes down—they weighed as hell.
"Oh, here's some 'venison', my friend got it for me again, just in time for me to process it."
Rogers said.
Rand offered to help get the "venison" into the processing bungalow, but Rogers flatly refused.
"Sorry, I've used some of the more peculiar ways to deal with this stuff, and it's not really suitable for outsiders to see," he said.
This time, however, he did bring too much "stock".
(Especially considering that just last night he "restocked" himself a little bit)
After rejecting Rand, he made a small mistake. The incubator fell from his arms and fell directly on the porch in front of the barn.
"boom-"
The lid was opened, and blood poured out together with a strong smell of rust. Red muscle mingled with bone and yellow fat smashed the old walnut planks on the porch like overturned pudding.
A pinch of connective tissue splattered onto Rand's calf.
Strangely, those bloodstains and flesh actually made people feel lukewarm.
They are all fresh and die no longer than 47 hours.
Rand didn't even need to think, he naturally judged the freshness of that little piece of flesh.
"damn it!"
Rogers grabbed his hair and cursed.
He quickly checked the pieces that had slipped out, and breathed a sigh of relief.
He is always willing to perform autopsies on human corpses in his bathtub. If someone who is familiar with every part of the human body is not here, I am afraid it will not recognize it. Not long ago, these corpse-scented people Mincemeat (even if they're really fresh, but a carcass is a carcass) is an ambitious paparazzi reporter.
"Looks like I'm going to be spending all of my time tonight with a bunch of son of a bitch."
Rogers jumped up cursing, begging Rand to wait a moment, then dashing to the glove box to try to dig out some cleaning supplies—though his cleaning ability was as serious as his brilliant cookie-baking ability. inversely proportional.
While Rogers was desperately rummaging through mops and rags in the glove box, Rand pinned his body to the pool of bright red and disgusting corpses.
He tried to hold his breath, but the strong smell of blood crawled into his mind like a snake along every olfactory cell.
Under the dim corridor lights, the pieces of meat looked as bright as amber.
"Gudong..."
Rand swallowed desperately, and when he realized it, he had squatted down slowly beside the pool of blood.
He couldn't even control it, he wanted to pick up a bloody piece of fresh meat with his hands and stuff it into his mouth.
Then a pale hand passed behind him, and the long nails pierced into a piece of minced meat, making a small "poof" sound.
"Mun, Munster—"
Rand slumped to the ground, his back touching Munster's cold, thick chest.
It didn't know when it came to Rand's back, and then happily stole a piece of meat and stuffed it into its own mouth.
"For God's sake, don't do this!"
Rand didn't even have time to stop it, and could only watch it chew on the meat.
A few bloodstains stuck to its thin lips, and it stuck out its tongue and licked away the rust-smelling red marks.
You should not eat whatever is on the ground at will.
Rand opened his lips. He should have said this to Munster, but when he opened his mouth, he felt that he also felt the feeling of drooling.
At least, Rand only felt hungry when Munster rejected the hunk of "venison."
Even the bloody smell that should have made people feel sick was too delicious for Rand at this time.
"I, I'm hungry..."
Munster said vaguely with food in his mouth.
"I know, but the stuff Rogers was working with at the time..."
"It's okay, just let it eat."
Rogers didn't know when he appeared behind Rand.
On this day, he seemed extraordinarily generous, as if he didn't mind that his raw materials were swept away by Munster.
Of course, what he didn't even know was that while Munster was feasting, Rand was about to be tortured mad by the intense hunger.
He wants to eat!
He really wants to eat!
To ease the eerie feeling, Rand asked Rogers for a cereal and some milk.
But sitting at the table, facing the tableware and the food in the tableware, Rand, who was so hungry just now that his stomach was curled up, suddenly lost his appetite.
"What's wrong? You don't like this brand?"
Rogers suddenly came over, put his chin on the back of his hand with a smile, and stared at Rand without blinking.
He had just cleaned the meat off the porch, and there was some blood on the hem.
Rand didn't know why he felt a sudden panic.
"No, I like it...I think so."
Rand said.
Yes, for a long time in the past these kinds of food were his real favorites, but now they just look like the excrement of something.
In Rand's mind, bright red muscles mixed with fat... they looked like real food.
No no no—it’s not like that—gosh, what the hell am I thinking…
Rand suddenly made a wit, and he found that what he really wanted to eat was not these tasteless milk and grain products at all, but meat - meat with blood.
Rand's hand grabbed the handle of the spoon.
His face was ashen as a person who had just recovered from a serious illness, but now he was eating those normal human foods at an astonishing speed.
It's really strange to say that they used to be a regular at Rand's breakfast table, but now they taste like urine and sawdust.
A strong sense of nausea surrounded Rand. He wanted to throw up at the first bite, but he forced himself to eat them all.
"Wow, you look really hungry."
Rogers sighed as Rand put down his spoon.
Rand pressed his lips together tightly and waited a moment, hoping the nausea would go away.
One second, two seconds, three seconds…
He didn't even hold back ten seconds.
Time never seemed so long.
He rushed to the toilet, and the food he had just swallowed spurted out of his throat like a fountain.
He almost vomited out his internal organs, and his whole body went limp. It took a while for him to stand up, and then he staggered out.
Rogers stared at him worriedly, frowning.
"What's the matter with you? Are you okay?"
"… "
Rand twitched the corners of his mouth, too weak to speak.
"…You're throwing up again? God, Rand, tell me the truth, how long have you been like this? You've been unable to eat, have you?"
"No, I ate something... I think I just had some indigestion. I got myself some steak before this, and I ate it."
Rand sank into his chair, his eyes darkened.
After spitting out everything in his stomach, the burning hunger tormented Rand again.
"So... would you mind having 'venison'? Since you're okay with steak, I think you might like that," Rogers added, with a sudden deepening smile on his face, "although before that I plan to use them for dog food, but I can guarantee that the meat is really fresh."
…
Rand nodded.
Rand slept satisfied that night.
He didn't know if it was because he had eaten too little because of his stomach problems before, or if it was the uniqueness of the meat, all in all, the fried venison Rogers made for him this evening was unbelievably delicious.
It tastes like the best beef shoulder but is softer, richer and has a unique flavor.
Rand couldn't even give himself enough time to chew before swallowing the meat in his mouth. Compared to the "venison", the steak that Rand had stuffed into his stomach was nothing but old rubber.
"…the secret to deliciousness?"
Rogers gave a slightly meaningful smile when Rand asked.
"It's very simple, I will use the 'deer' own fat to cook, so as to maximize the original taste of the meat. I am glad you like my craft, we can continue this menu tomorrow."
He says.
Rand thought that would be a good note.
"Rand?"
Munster's muffled voice came from under the bed.
After seeing Rand eating that plate of meat today, it showed a strangeness that had never been seen before.
There was so much shock and confusion.
"Are you happy?"
it asked suddenly.
"… Why do you ask?"
"… "
Munster didn't know how to answer Rand.
It can feel that Rand's body surface temperature is higher than before, and at the same time his heartbeat is faster, he seems very satisfied, but...
Munster felt a little dazed.
It felt that Rand should not eat those things.
Although Rogers had cut them into small pieces and fried them in fat, Munster knew exactly what they were.
In real oceans, sirens also prefer large mammals to fish. Their bodies are soft and gelatinous, their subcutaneous fat is rich, their muscles provide a lot of energy, and even bone marrow can be a good snack.
But Rand still shouldn't eat them, so when he's on the porch, he'll grab the minced meat in front of Rand.
It had a very, very vague sense of foreboding, actually, for Munster, that was kind of a gut feeling.
Rand will be heartbroken over this food.
Munster didn't know how to put his thoughts into words, it was so confusing.
Ultimately, the only thing it was able to do was reach out to Rand and ask in a low voice.
"Rand, can I hold your hand to sleep?"
Rand let out a helpless sigh in the dark.
After a while, he reached down from the edge of the bed and took Munster's paw.
For some reason, he suddenly felt so happy when he came into contact with its skin.
His stomach was full of food, surrounded by his close friends.
Everything is so complete, like a dream.
Vol3
In the "processing factory" not far from Rand's bedroom.
Rogers looked away from the darkened window.
He opened another incubator removed from the car.
Beneath a layer of ice cubes, the neatly placed arms, thighs and skulls had been frozen into a stiff gray.
"I knew you'd like this, my picky eater," he said briskly, with a tone of reproach, even though in front of him was a corpse that would never speak again, but he seemed to get it Any response became easier.
Rogers picked up the heads, shaved off the hair in boiling water, and put the meat and bones in a blender to puree.
"Look, you're always yelling, yelling, you're never going to eat our food, but this belated meal comes after all, and like Mom said, you're going to love it."