Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

Darkness, the darkness behind the light. Like being hit by a heavy hammer composed of light and sound, a huge amount of intensive sensory experience swallowed up the last of my consciousness.

At the last moment of losing consciousness, it is difficult to judge whether it is the fear of an unpredictable fate or the joy of getting rid of the unacceptable image.

Of course, this is not based on subjective will. His own will has not changed. His vision was swallowed up by darkness, and the buzzing tinnitus replaced the waves of accumulated noise. He was temporarily relieved at the cost of giving up control of his life. .

Sinking into the darkness that seemed to last until the Day of Judgment, I truly thought about death for the first time, and what I had been unable to think about after half a lifetime of endless toil and numbness when I returned to the shack at night - meaning.

The existence that has never been seen or heard overturned the world view known to this soul running between the salt tide area and the port. The religious parents were influenced by it. The priest expected another world when he died. He stepped into the church and knelt down on the rare occasions. Under the towering dome.

The lofty light shines from the gem-colored stained glass collage windows. It is impossible not to believe that the story heard from the heaven can be conveyed with such gorgeous materials.

Behind the heads of those figures, apertures made of bright yellow glass highlight their status as being superior to ordinary people. The feet are made of gray and black stone sculptures with bat wings on their backs and twisted horns. The devil has many fangs in his mouth and spits out a funny tongue. Smaller dwarfs of the same kind squat on the eaves outside to serve as drainage.

The choir, with handsome faces and pure and clear voices like children, stood in the projection of stars comparable to the colored windows, illuminated by thousands of candlelights and sang a cappella in unison, praising the glory of the Supreme Lord for protecting the world and driving away evil.

After that, he returned to the shack in the salt tide area and continued to live a repetitive and thoughtless life. He believed in a being that existed higher than the church steeple, protected and judged everyone equally, and never felt inappropriate. .

And those candlelights and colorful lights cannot compare to its appearance. It transcends all experiences in a short and deprived life, including the holy scripture story pictures collaged on glass, which are not worth mentioning in front of white light.

It rose from the window, like a living moon being pulled before his eyes. In the bright, moving light was its incomprehensible body, unlike any mortal creature he had ever seen.

Countless voices sounded with its arrival, filling the entire church with a choir, and the combined total was less than one-tenth of the shock of the roaring and shouting voice. It's not composed of syllables and rhythm, but it feels like it contains meaning beyond words.

Without personal experience, no one would have imagined its existence, including of course the priests who were holding holy scriptures and describing "ordinary" things in repetitive and difficult-to-speak holy words.

Breaking away from the shackles of dogma, something more unearthly than the humanoid figure with a halo above its head and the demon with wings on its back came here, revealing its inhuman and extraordinary malice.

Its existence punctures the life composed of religion and repetition, eclipsing it, and realizes that it is just content woven by people. From the heaven above to the hell below, the human-shaped statues collapsed together.

The foundation for protecting the world and maintaining spiritual life was lost, and was replaced by an incomprehensible malicious existence.

The shock of the shattered worldview, the impact on the senses, and the shattered consciousness wandering in the darkness. He floated until he felt the existence of his body again and returned to the human world.

It seemed like a long time passed. Coop opened his eyelids a little awkwardly, and the light shone from one side, which stung his eyes and made him cry.

This brings to mind the beam of light falling from the high window of the church, and then the blurred vision of tears as the source of light twisting and flowing, connected with that thing.

He subconsciously raised his hands to cover himself and tried to move his body to move backwards, but his whole body was restrained and only his fingers could move. His instinctive fear made him scream and struggle, making a rumbling sound as the boards shook and collided.

"Oh oh oh, relax, this is just a safety measure." A young voice sounded, more active and brisk than Kraft's calmness, "Are you awake?"

"Craft said you might move around when you woke up, and he was worried about falling, so he fixed it specially. Don't worry, he asked me to tell me that everything is over and you are safe."

Noticing that Coop turned his head, the man understood the problem and walked away quickly. After a sound of wooden shafts turning, the bright light shining directly on the facade suddenly dimmed. Coop realized belatedly that it was just the sunshine outside the window, bright but not warm.

"Is everything okay...?" His dry lips were as soft as a low question for himself, and he muttered behind the dry skin that felt rough and rubbed.

The owner of the brisk voice walked to the bedside, rolled up the same black sleeves as Kraft, and put the back of his hand on his forehead, "There is no fever, the situation is good. Please wait a moment, I will inform him."

The rapid footsteps faded away and suddenly stopped at the door.

"No, I heard you." A calm, slightly tired response came from outside the door, along with the muffled sound of leather boots on the stairs.

Coop blinked and squeezed the tears out of his eyes, and saw the blond figure in black robes bending to avoid the iron chain and walking towards him with a cup in hand, a smile that was obviously tired but not fake.

He untied the rope that had been wrapped several times on the bed, lifted up Coop's upper body, and handed the cup to his mouth, "Drink some water. You consumed a few glasses of beer last night. You must be thirsty after a night of hangover."

"No need to worry, the matter has been resolved. If you observe for a while, you can go home safely." The cup was thoughtfully tilted at a just right angle, so that the water could flow into his mouth at the right speed, moistening his lips and throat without being irritated. choked.

The cool liquid lifted Coop's spirits a bit, moisturizing his vocal cords and regaining his ability to speak. He looked at the black cuffed hand, holding the water glass flat and stretched out, steady and strong.

"That's not an evil spirit, right?" Coop asked softly.

Of course it couldn't be an evil spirit. Kraft turned his head and handed the empty cup to Lucius, "Thank you for helping me take care of the patient, Lucius. But next time, please remember not to make too much noise in front of mentally weak people, okay?"

"Now give me and the patient some space to communicate alone."

"Okay." Lucius took the order and left, holding the cup and going downstairs. Soon, the sound of cups falling to the ground, messy footsteps, and someone's cry of pain were heard in the corridor.

Kraft listened for a while, and then turned his mind back to the present when normal footsteps sounded.

"What is it?" he asked, his tone calm, completely different from the one who had experienced a night of terror, as calm as if he was greeting good afternoon elegantly.

"That's it..." Coop wanted to express what he saw and his gratitude for saving his life, but found that he couldn't express that scene.

The memory filled with white light is like a piece of cloth covered with a rough outline. The rest of the details are stuck when the words come to my mouth, and I can't recall the specific content anyway.

There was something squirming in the white light, but I couldn't remember what it was; the complex and layered sounds had no clear nature. Even the metaphor can't find any exact suitable object in the world.

"...It's just white light, sounds, a lot of sounds." The more I recalled it, the more panic emerged. It was like digging up the sand on the beach, and what seeped out below was not sea water but a different-colored liquid.

"Pah." The hand with black cuffs patted his shoulder, interrupting the vague narration, "Don't say it, don't think too much, everything has passed."

"Seize the time to rest and have a sumptuous dinner in the evening. There will be serious barbecue and soup. You can also drink a few beers, but I really don't recommend drinking too much of this stuff. Your stomach is not suitable for being overstuffed. , please pay attention to it in the future.”

Kraft held Coop's shoulders and shook him back and forth, shaking his thoughts away. This thing is almost over, and it would be best for Coop to squeeze it into the corner of his memory with a pot roast after his second hangover, wash it away with the beer foam, and stay away from the nasty deep connection for the rest of his life.

He went around the table, neatly folded the scattered grid diagrams, flattened them on the table, and inserted them behind the large medical record he had taken the time to write. Last night's information will be very valuable and worthy of further analysis.

He will first carefully collect the research, sort out the patterns and the experience of this diagnosis and treatment, and finally form a case report style manuscript.

Regardless of whether there are conditions for reproduction, this written record will be retained, and under the premise of ensuring safety, it will be summarized with the events in the salt tide area and handed over to those who can preserve them, so as to provide experience and evidence for responding to similar cases in the future.

But who to look for? This is still a question mark. Objectively speaking, Kraft does not feel that he is reliable enough, and he is not very good at reading people. If he makes a mistake, he will create a second Kalman.

"Well, it's really not easy to cure your disease." Kraft stuffed the paper into the box, fastened the metal buckle, and chatted with Coop, "Is there anything you want to eat? I'll talk to the bar owner It’s very familiar, so it won’t be a problem to save a copy for you in advance.”

"Huh?" He picked up the box and hummed two easy syllables to prompt Coop to give his suggestions for dinner, and was about to go out to see if Lucius had hit his head.

This long and attractive paragraph did not achieve the expected effect. Coop had no interest in the cuisine and was still immersed in unorganized thoughts. Craft paused, waiting for a response.

After thinking for a long time, Coop did not give the name of the dish. Instead, he asked another question: "Mr. Kraft, are you religious?"

"If this is at the door of the church, I have to answer you, yes." An affirmative negative with a hypothetical premise expresses Kraft's personal point of view more implicitly. He knew that Coop was a church member, and this statement was considered caring for the sick.

This sentence gave Coop the courage to continue, "I saw that thing. I really saw it. I can't pretend that nothing happened."

"It's definitely not the devils, demons, evil spirits or the like that the priest said. It's more...not like the human world than those things."

"Oh?" Kraft asked curiously. Neither the demons of hell nor the evil spirits wandering around the world, then there is only one thing with supernatural power?

"No, of course it's not that." Coop didn't even realize how disrespectful a word he used to refer to the supreme creator of all things. He was holding that guy's holy badge last night, "And it's more..."

He couldn't continue and looked at Kraft, wondering what he was looking for, advice or support?

"So, what the priest said is wrong, and the world has another look?" Kraft held his chin as if thinking, and gave a brief summary of his words, "If you are still willing to think that way after half a month, , just come to the academy and find me."

After the young doctor with blond hair and black robe finished speaking, he saw that Coop was still stunned by the deviant words that were easily spoken, and left with the box. At the door, he seemed to suddenly remember something and turned around.

"By the way, don't forget the big dinner tonight to celebrate your waking up."