"Can we go get something to eat?"
No one spoke to anyone, the voice appeared directly in Chapman's ears. In the bathroom, Chapman pinched the wound that had reopened on his shoulder, held a needle back and forth, and sutured in front of the mirror.
This should be painful, but Chapman only felt something pulling on his body, which felt like anesthesia.
"Can we go get something to eat?" The voice sounded again, and he seemed to be very persistent, "I haven't eaten for more than ten years. I kind of miss the feeling of biting something. Like this."
Chapman stretched his neck forward and grabbed a dirty towel.
Chapman got angry, "No! Do! Touch! My! Body! Body!"
Chapman in the mirror shook his head, but his mouth with several missing teeth was biting the towel and refused to let go, "Can we go eat? Can we? Can we?..."
Chapman gave up and looked at himself in the mirror with a sullen face. Is that a person? No, Chapman didn't feel like a human being. He was more like a rag bag. The skin all over his body was pale due to excessive blood loss. The vertical and horizontal wounds were sutured with cotton thread. Of course, the random movement just now opened a few more cracks. It's like beef that has been soaked in water and is cut open suddenly.
Footsteps approached and the bathroom door was opened. Walter held the filled paper bag and glanced at the open wounds on Chapman's strong back. He frowned and said, "Don't move! Let go of me." Towel! Get down!"
Chapman, no, Wander let go of the towel he was biting, walked out of the bathroom and lay down on the sofa. Chapman hated this situation of turning his back to strangers. He tried to resist, but now that his body was no longer under his control, he had no choice. He didn't feel like he was still a human being at all.
Walter took out the daily sundries in the upper layer of the paper bag, revealing the alcohol, cotton swabs, and gauze underneath... He squatted next to the sofa and began to sew carefully.
"Walter, I want to eat." Wandel lay on Walter's sofa, tilting his head, and his face, which was bruised and covered with small wounds, was squeezed by the cushion. He actually looked aggrieved, "I want to eat, have you bought anything to eat?"
Walter clicked his tongue, "Do you want to die early! Your stomach, uh." Walter frowned. It was really troublesome to talk to the shadow man. Walter was often confused about who the guy in front of him was, "Chapman. You." Your stomach is useless and you can’t eat.”
But Walter already had a knack for it. Wander looked harmless and innocent, and Chapman looked sinister and angry.
"When are you going to let me go!" Now it was Chapman. The wounds on his shoulders and arms were cracked by the stretched muscles, but his body could not get up without anyone holding him down. Wander still had control of his limbs.
"You want to leave?" Walter's forehead was tense because of irritability, with veins pulsing, "Don't get me wrong. I want you to leave as soon as possible! In fact, if you go out now, you can catch up with the two policemen who are investigating outside!"
The wounds on his back cracked several more times. Someone was clearly fighting desperately for control of his body.
There was a knock on the door.
Walter quickly turned back, and the hand holding the gauze instinctively pressed the struggling Chapman's mouth, urging in a low voice, "Wander, hide!"
The body on the sofa jumped up quickly, and its patched body was extremely agile. He swept the medical supplies on the table and hid in the bathroom.
"Barton Police Department." The person knocking on the door urged.
Walter looked around, and there was nothing suspicious except that it was dirty. He walked to the door and opened it. He looked at the two people at the door with confusion.
The police badge dangled in front of Walter's face, "Police Barton, Detective Coulson, this is Detective Lance. We have some questions we want to ask you. Do you mind if we come in?"
Walter saw that the middle-aged police detective was already looking inside, looking beyond him, and his eyes quickly swept around the room. Walter's raised lips revealed half of his missing front teeth, and he frowned, "Do you mind." Walter walked out of the room impatiently and closed the door, "What do you want to ask, detective?"
The middle-aged man who called himself Detective Coulson curled his lips and seemed to be complaining about the uncooperativeness of the people in this neighborhood. He looked at Walter in front of him and said, "Where have I seen you? You look familiar."
The impatient expression on Walter's face became more and more serious, "Because I just passed by you."
Coulson groaned in embarrassment. The young police detective named Lance next to him also seemed impatient with his partner. He quickly raised a photo and held it in front of Walter, "We just want to ask, have you seen it?" This person?"
"No." Walter looked at Chapman in the police uniform in the photo and shook his head. He hoped that this suit was not the one he burned.
"He might look a little different." Detective Lance (James) frowned and added, "He might have injuries on his body."
Walter curled his lips, it was not possible, if the police uniform was not completely damaged and soaked with blood, he would not want to burn it and waste it. You know, as a professional liar, a police uniform can expand his business a lot...
"I said, I have never seen this guy." Walter's voice was full of impatience.
The two police detectives looked at each other and sighed. The residents in this area were really not very friendly. But they couldn't blame them. The city of Barton had good prospects when developing this area, but the result was that it was full of half-finished and unfinished housing. It is normal for people who live here to be hostile to all governments.
The young Detective Lance took out a business card with some disappointment, "If you find anything, please contact us. The Barton Police Department will be very grateful." He almost felt numb with these words.
Walter took it, glanced at it, and stuffed it into his butt pocket. He still glanced at the two of them impatiently, "Are you okay? If you're okay, you can leave." After that, he turned around and opened the door, leaving the two police detectives. Behind closed doors.
Coulson was silent for a while, shook his head, and James walked out of the front porch of the home of the man who didn't even bother to reveal his name. "We can't find anything here." Coulson complained, "This area What’s going on in the area! Even the homeless aren’t cooperating!”
The homeless people in the North District are willing to say anything for just ten dollars. Although there are many homeless people living in unfinished houses here, as long as two people get close, they will stay away!
James frowned. Chapman's car was parked at the junction of the south and north. There was a blood stain that extended southward for a while and then disappeared. He knew a little bit about this area, and it was from Ravenchi. At that time, when Ravenci introduced the stronghold they found here to James, he once said, "This is a place that is neither a city nor a country. Coupled with the problems of Barton City itself, this place has been completely abandoned, and even It’s not as good as the southeastern part of the North District, it’s absolutely safe here.”
"We should contact someone from the Southern District Bureau. He knows more about this place." James made a very reasonable suggestion.
Coulson directly rejected it, "What should we say? There is a police officer missing in the North District?" Coulson shook his head, knowing that there would be no results, but still walked to the next house that seemed to be occupied.
"Hey! You guys!" A sudden female voice sounded, "I see you!"
The two police detectives turned their heads. It was a woman who looked middle-aged, but her messy hair and tattered and dirty sweater showed that she was homeless.
"I saw you guys talking to that guy!" The woman huddled behind the wall, pointing with one hand at the house they had just visited, Walter. She grabbed the wall with one hand, her knuckles turning white from the exertion.
"What's wrong with that guy?" Coulson raised his chin and walked towards the woman. It was rare to find a homeless woman who didn't run away, and he wasn't prepared to let her go like this. Such people usually know a lot and are the cheapest informants for the police.
When the woman saw the other person approaching, she trembled with fear, but did not hide. Coulson stood at a safe distance very considerately and said in a much slower tone, "What's wrong with him? You can tell us, we are the police." Coulson waved the police badge and started to pay directly.
Looking at a banknote worth more than ten renminbi, the woman's face actually showed a look of disgust. In her heart, one hundred is enough! We all know who set the standard.
But she still took the banknotes, and then her expression became serious. However, her dirty face and bloodshot eyes made her unable to be taken seriously, and made her look a little nervous.
"He is a devil!" The woman lowered her voice. Maybe she found it easier to convince others. "He can summon the dead! He can talk to them!"
Coulson felt a little sad that he had lost his money.
"How do you know?" James frowned, glanced at his partner, and asked.
"I can hear it!" The woman saw that someone was willing to pay attention, and moved closer to the two of them. "Every midnight! I can hear him talking to them! It's very small! But I can hear it!"
James glanced at Coulson, took out his wallet, took out a fifty-dollar bill, and handed it to the woman. James was the son of a general, and don't forget, "Did you hear anything last night?"
Fifty, the woman took it with satisfaction, "Not last night. Last night was very quiet, but other times he would talk to the undead! Trust me!"
James was disappointed. They had seen neurotic tramps before. The usual tactic of these guys was exaggeration. Usually 'once' becomes 'every day' in their mouths, and 'occasionally' becomes 'often'. So James thought the other party heard something last night, and exaggerated it to say he heard it every day.
But the one in front of me seems to be just the opposite, or maybe she didn't exaggerate to the right position. James was too lazy to say anything more and waved his hand, "Thank you."
"You have to be careful!" The woman looked at the two of them and added before turning around and leaving, "Don't get close there! He is a devil!"
Watching the two police detectives walking to another house, Walter, standing in front of the window, breathed a sigh of relief. This woman is so troublesome! (..)