48 Hours a Day

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“The devil?” The Old Lady was stunned when he heard the word, and then said with a smile, “Are you guys who enter other people’s homes without permission and pretend to be service staff are the devil?”

“Even so, it’s more normal than imagining that Aunt will live with him.” Zhang Heng said calmly.

“You said she was imaginary?” Agatha asked in surprise, but the queen of reasoning immediately reacted and said suddenly, “Yes, this manor only invites the author in, and every Everyone has a room. Since the owner of this room is someone else, his Aunt is impossible here. This is the most reasonable explanation.”

When Zhang Heng said that sentence, the Old Lady on the opposite side fell silent, as if the pause button had been pressed, and there was no movement expression.

When Agatha finished speaking, her silhouette became lighter and lighter, until she completely disappeared.

However, when she disappeared, the gloomy and depressive atmosphere in the house did not get better, but became stronger and stronger, so strong that other authors living in the same building felt it.

Some authors who had some mental problems, were affected by this atmosphere and suddenly became depressed. Some terrifying thoughts flashed through their heads uncontrollably. The pilot man before began to be in the room. Stopped pacing and started, Fitzgerald rubbed up half of his love letter and threw it into the wastebasket. Then he picked up his head in frustration on the bed. Even Hemingway, who was always a tough guy, turned his attention several times. The expression of the shotgun in front of my bed is fluctuating.

Agatha, who was the first to bear the brunt, felt even more intense, her complexion changed, “How could this be?”

After a long silence, Zhang Heng opened the mouth and said, “I might have guessed wrong before. I thought his Aunt was the culprit that caused his mental problems, because this room is most likely to restore his previous The place where he lives with his Aunt, only in this way can explain why it is so shabby and there is the illusion of his Aunt at the same time. The hobbit housekeeper once told me that every room will meet the needs of the guests to the greatest extent. And he chose to transform his guest room into a place where he once lived, probably because it can bring him a sense of security.”

“You’re right. He has been in the manor for so long, but no one has ever seen him leave his room. He should be an extremely introverted and autistic guy. Such a person is indeed the best when choosing a guest room style. It is possible to choose the place where he lived, even if it is simple and shabby, and he could choose a better living environment.”

Agatha paused when he said, “Wait, you…seem to know the people who live here?”

“Yes, he is its creator.” Zhang Heng said.

“Who is whose creator?”

However, Zhang Heng did not answer this question.

So Agatha asked again, “What happened to Aunt you mentioned earlier?”

“I was preconceived. The old Aunt we saw before showed a strong desire to control. I thought this was the reason for his mental problems, but now it seems that his Aunt has been working hard. Help him and solve his mental illness, and the reason why he came up with his Aunt here is to help him stabilize his mental state. This is also the reason why the manor has not been in any situation for so long, until we just broke it. His fantasy.”

“Wait, I still don’t understand. Why does his mental problem affect the entire manor?” Agatha wondered.

“This matter is difficult to explain clearly for a while. I have some connections with him. Can I stay alone with him for a while?” Zhang Heng asked.

“Okay.” Agatha saw that Zhang Heng seemed to care about the occupants of this suite, so she did not hesitate to agree, and then retired.

While waiting for her to leave, Zhang Heng closed the door and walked towards the study. He could feel that gloomy and depressive breath was the strongest in the study, and if nothing else, it was from there.

Zhang Heng also didn’t expect. Originally, he came to Room 515 to find the owner of the manor, but the owner of the manor was not found, but he unexpectedly found the initiator of all this.

Zhang Heng knows that the person in this room is the creator of the monster in the city under the ice, and given that the blood of the monster is also flowing in his body, speaking from a certain perspective, the other party is considered half of him. A creator, so the next meeting this time will also become very wonderful.

Zhang Heng put his right hand on the faded brass handle of the study, took a deep breath, and slowly turned his palm.

The door of the study is not at all locked. This is normal, because the owner of this suite keeps the door of his room tightly closed at ordinary times, so the study for work naturally does not need to be locked again.

After opening the door, the scene in the study is also obvious at a glance.

This is as simple and shabby as the reception room outside, but the number of books is not a lot. It is like a small library. There are also many old newspapers arranged according to the date and piled in the corner of the room.

An old table is placed in the center of the house, and a tall, thin man is quickly tapping on a black typewriter with his back to the door of the house.

The click of the typewriter is particularly harsh in the quiet room.

The thin and tall man at the table also seemed to hear the footsteps behind him, but not at all turned his head and just said, “Aunt Anne, please eat first. I will go to the living room after I finish writing this article.”

However, the people behind him not at all continued to urge him as usual.

The tall thin man seemed to have noticed something. He turned his head from the desk and saw a strange man standing behind him. The man was crouching down and picked up a piece of paper from the ground.

That was the end of a novel. Zhang Heng noticed the signature at the bottom of the paper-Howard Philip Lovecraft.

Then he quickly scanned the text elsewhere on the manuscript paper and handed it back to the man on the opposite side.

The latter took his own manuscript and stubbornly said thank you, then hesitated and asked a little nervously, “Who are you, is Aunt Anne’s friend?”

“No, I’m here to see you.” Zhang Heng said.

“Look at me?” Lovecraft looked surprised, and then a little shy. “But, I don’t know you. I usually communicate with my friends through letters. They rarely come to find Me.”

“Yes, this is our first meeting. Although until now I appreciate your talent.”

“Really, this is the first time someone has said this to me.” Lovecraft heard this a little excited, and there was a look on the originally dull face.