Faced with the owner's active invitation, Jobtran and his group did not make any hypocritical excuses and simply accepted the invitation to go into the house to shelter from the rain.
Behind the door was a plainly decorated anteroom, but the plaster on the walls had peeled off a lot, and the owner had hastily pasted a beige wallpaper on it as a repair.
A faint sour smell of wood wafted into my nose, coming from behind a half-open door.
Next to the door was a narrow staircase with a door leading to the cellar on the side of the staircase, while the other doors on both sides were closed.
"You can sit in the living room and rest for a while until the rain stops."
The homeowner spoke softly, casually pointing to the half-open door.
People walked into the living room one after another. The low ceiling created a sense of oppression in the space.
The room was furnished with extremely simple and rustic wooden furniture, the only two pieces of slightly different materials being a fabric sofa and an old clock on the mantelpiece.
Dim light shone through the gray lattice windows, but this weak light could not illuminate the living room.
In addition to a table and several chairs, there is a bookcase built into the wall next to the fireplace.
There are quite a few books and scattered papers on the bookcase, but both the book covers and the yellowing of the papers show that these paper products have an old style.
If an appraiser from an auction house or an experienced collector came here, he would certainly find that the books in the bookcase have extremely high collection value.
That bookcase is also one of the tidiest places I have seen so far, and it is obvious that the owner has tidied it carefully.
"I'll go make you some tea to warm you up, you can do whatever you want."
The owner of the house spoke softly and walked out.
Jobtran opened a book on the table, which was an ancient travelogue.
The book was printed in Frankfurt in 1598 and still maintains its excellent quality.
The author is Pigafeda, an explorer and historian from Italy.
It vividly recorded Pigafeda's journey in Latin, but one of the strange illustrations made Joet Brown frown.
The illustration shows a butcher's shop in the impoverished and primitive Republic of Congo on the African continent.
Although it was a trivial matter, the eerie details in the illustration and the pieces of meat hanging on the hooks made Joet Brown feel a little uneasy.
The black people in the illustrations are drawn with white and Caucasian faces, which is obviously because the illustrator has never seen a black person.
This feeling makes people feel particularly grotesque and bizarre, but it is far less visually shocking than the body parts hanging in the butcher shop.
The butcher in the illustration and the axe in his hand are extremely asymmetrical. I don’t know if it is due to the style of painting or if the illustrator did it on purpose.
"Oh? You're reading this page? What do you think?"
The owner of the house, carrying a teapot and several teacups, walked in silently from the door and came behind Joet Brown.
Joe Boutron raised his head and shook it slightly.
"I don't like it very much. It feels very weird."
"Ha, have you never seen anything like this?"
The owner of the house became excited instead. He picked up the book that Joet Brown had just put down, found a comfortable position, crossed his legs, and leaned against the sofa.
He pulled out a pair of dirty glasses from his pocket and put them on his nose.
The glasses had small rectangular lenses and a wooden frame, and their old-fashioned and tacky style was surprising.
He reached out and gently stroked the illustration on that page, which was creepy, as if he was stroking his lover's hair.
“When I saw this painting, I felt my blood boiling.
Look, is what the butcher in this painting doing sinful
Killing one's own kind is a sin in our eyes, but it is sacred in that kingdom.
We should not use our opinions to figure out the other person's thoughts, but appreciate it as I do.
See that guy who got chopped up
Every time I look at this painting, I feel incredible.
The butcher's axe had chopped off his thigh, his head was on the bench, and an arm was on the table next to him.
Look at this cut section, it's so magical."
As the owner of the house spoke, he seemed to be immersed in his own ecstatic imagination.
Every word stimulated the confused people, and the atmosphere in the living room became increasingly depressing and weird.
He did not raise his voice, but instead lowered his voice lower and lower, like a whisper in the dark night.
All kinds of disturbing factors came together, and a fear that was originally hidden deep in the heart slowly and vividly began to stir up waves in the lake of the heart.
It is undeniable that the owner of the house is not as normal as he seems; his character seems to be obviously distorted, and he even has a certain degree of mental defects.
His words penetrated into everyone's mind in a soft and feeble way, like a breeze, thus influencing the worldview they had established since childhood.
Murmurs and whispers, shrieking voices are far more terrifying than shrill screams.
When Sif heard this, she could no longer bear it and her body began to tremble slightly involuntarily.
"Thank you for your kindness, sir. Can we have a good cup of tea?"
Joet Brown frowned, somewhat unhappy but he did not show it.
"Haha, I said too much without realizing it.
Don’t worry about it, don’t worry about it.”
After the owner of the house said this, he closed the book, then stood up and put the book in the bookcase.
"If the rain doesn't stop tonight, I'll prepare some food for you and you can spend the night here."
The owner took off his glasses and asked politely with a smile.
"Then I'll have to trouble you, Mr. Lao."
Sif clenched her still trembling hands tightly so as not to reveal her uneasiness.
The owner waved his hand and walked out of the living room.
The four of them heard the owner push the back door open and looked at each other.
“Do you think we should still stay here to avoid the rain
I always feel uneasy and confused, and these bad emotions keep lingering in my heart."
Sif said softly.
“In fact, we can’t go far now.
You can hear the rain is getting heavier outside. If it were just the three of us walking it wouldn't be a problem, but we can't just leave Joe Butran here."
Professor Robert rubbed his eyebrows and said helplessly.
Columbia nodded slightly.
"Professor Robert is right, and we don't have much food left in our backpacks.
It would be nice to have a meal here.
Maybe the owner of the house looks a little weird, but it's better than those other scary villagers in the village. At least we can communicate, right?"
As Columbia finished his words, he heard a creepy animal scream.
Although the sound of rain was very loud, the desperate cries of animals mixed in with it suddenly gave people goose bumps.
This was followed by several heavy blows.
Professor Robert peeked out from behind the door and found that the owner was slaughtering a fat lamb in the fence in the backyard.
The sharp blade chopped down mercilessly, one cut after another. The homeowner held the knife in one hand and the sheep's head chopped off from the lamb in the other.
From the broken neck of the sheep's head, bright red blood was dripping onto the ground.
Under the impact of the rain, the ground soon turned red.
He smiled, without any fear, and just kept waving the butcher knife in his hand.
He cut through the lamb's fur, severed the tendons between the skin and flesh, and pierced the fat over the internal organs.
The knife cut into the flesh, but he still smiled.
The homeowner seemed to enjoy the process. His face was stained with splattered blood, but he did not make any move to wipe it off, leaving his face covered in scarlet.
For a moment, Professor Robert seemed to see a grinning devil.
But when the owner of the house carried the lamb into the kitchen and began to cook dinner for everyone, Professor Robert finally came to his senses.
The aroma of peppery mutton soup wafted from the kitchen, arousing the appetite of the four people.
The owner of the house hummed an unknown tune, wearing a dirty apron, and made several dishes with different flavors using the lamb slaughtered in the backyard.
Soon the table was filled with dishes, including mutton stew with both meat and vegetables, as well as exquisite yet simple lamb chops.
The owner took off her apron and walked into the living room.
"My guests, dinner is ready."
It was the same enthusiastic smile. Although Professor Robert witnessed the cooking process, the scene of slaughtering in the rain was still vivid in his mind.
Everyone gathered around the dining table, feeling a little surprised by the sumptuous meal.
Choate Brown habitually said a silent prayer before his meal and made the sign of the cross.
The owner of the house placed his hands under his chin and looked at the four people with a smile.
"Eat it, don't waste it, it's very fresh."
Although the dishes are worn out, they are still usable.
Although the dishes in front of me are ordinary, they taste very good.
The only one was Professor Robert, who only ate some vegetables from the stew.
"Why? Not to your liking?"
The owner of the house looked at the picky Professor Robert, frowned, and asked unhappily.
“No, I just don’t quite understand.
You seem to enjoy the killing process?"
Professor Robert put down his knife and fork and wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“Haha, that’s a very interesting process.
During the process of growth, every human being needs a large number of other lives to support the nutrients needed for growth. This is the law of nature.
You and I both understand this, so there's no need to pretend.
Just like this gentleman in a wheelchair, he believes in the Holy Light and thinks that the Holy Light can bless him.
But in fact, it is not the holy light, nor the life of the lamb that gives us this delicious meal, but our desire to eat. "
The owner took a piece of tender lamb chop from the plate and elegantly cut it into small pieces with a knife and fork.
The blood from the lamb chops flowed out of the meat and onto the plate, reminding Professor Robert of the blood flowing on the ground.
And everyone knew that the owner of the house was going to start speaking his own unique language again.
“Desire, desire, desire.
What is desire
Desire is the craving for satisfaction, and only when satisfaction is achieved can the erosion of desire be offset.
When you are sleepy, you go to sleep; when you are hungry, you go to eat; when you are thirsty, you go to drink water.
Desire takes root deep in everyone's body, and desire spreads deep in everyone's soul.
This is something that cannot be avoided as a biological being, as a human being.”
After hearing this, Joet Brown shook his head slightly.
“Mr. Landlord, you are quite right, but not entirely correct.
The reason why humans are human is that they can control their desires and not let their desires override their reason and logic.
Humans have added morals and laws to regulate themselves, while animals are always ready to satisfy their desires. This difference makes humans different from other animals. "
When the owner of the house heard Joet Brown's rebuttal, he was not angry but happy. He laughed and clapped his hands.
"Hahaha, that's an interesting theory, but can you tell me what troubles are in your opinion?"
Joet Brown frowned when he heard this, put a piece of meat into his mouth with a fork and chewed slowly, while thinking about the answer to the owner's question.
The owner of the house served himself a bowl of mutton soup and drank it in big gulps.
After finishing the soup in the bowl, the owner said,
“The essence of trouble, in my opinion, is the emotion caused by the inability to satisfy desires.
Look at you, when I ask you a question, you want to find an accurate answer to answer me.
This is what just happened.
You may not realize it, but you are already deeply trapped in the quagmire of desire."
At this moment, the owner's mumbling was accompanied by a thunder outside the window. Lightning flashed across the sky, making the originally dim scene extremely dazzling in that instant.
Columbia seemed to want to say something to refute the homeowner's point of view, but Joet Brown stopped Columbia from saying anything next with his eyes.
Joet Brown began to understand the difference in Arkham.
In this mysterious town, people's emotions and all thoughts will slowly be influenced and become extreme.
This is true for both the residents' shyness towards strangers and the homeowner's persistence, but the old woman in the Traveler's House is the one who behaves even more extreme.
Jobtron glanced at the wooden frame hanging on the wall. In the frame were written "Honorary Fellow of the Department of Philosophy of Miskatonic University", but the line with the name had been painted black.
Jobtran knew the identity of the owner of the house in front of him, and realized that his words could no longer influence his thoughts.
The owner of the house in front of him had obviously spent his entire life searching for the meaning of life and the correct answers to various philosophical theories, but his thoughts were slowly eroded into extremes by the small town.
Joe Butran seemed to see the future of the homeowner.
He would be consumed by his own desires, just as he had said.
His current indifference to life will turn into trampling on life, and this path is already destined.
Today, we are lucky, or one day, the owner of the house will completely reach the extreme of thinking.
The dish on the table would not be lamb, but human flesh as shown in the horrifying illustration.
The desire for slaughter is lurking in the heart of the homeowner, planting an invisible seed that will one day take root and sprout, turning into a bloody towering tree.
When reason collapses, the painting will become the scene in this abandoned wooden house.
The owner of the house will become the butcher in the painting, and that scene will become the abominable painting in the house.