My Iyashikei Game

Dim lights reflected the faces of people, and the ticking of the clock represented the passage of time.

When the pointers crossed again, everything seemed to go back to years ago, and all the dead began the journey that was doomed with memory and pain.

Each butterfly is the ghost of a flower that came back to find itself.

The reader closed the book in her hand, leaned on the sofa, and looked at the people around her weakly.

She seldom attends such parties, but this time she will come only because her favorite writer has invited her.

His eyes swept secretly to the writer sitting in the corner. The man was as quiet and silent as usual.

I can't understand, just because of a letter, we are coming to this broken place? The student crossed his hands in front of his knees, he took off his earphones: I am not interested in whether there are ghosts in the world, you want to prove , then you stay here to prove it yourself.

There are no ghosts in the world, only people who pretend to be ghosts. The thug stood at the door, his broad and strong back leaning against the door: No one is allowed to leave this building until that person is caught.

The person it wants to kill is me, why are you panicking? The doctor put out the cigarette, and there was a trace of gloom and displeasure in his eyes: I don't know if there are ghosts in the world, if there are no ghosts in this world, The person who wanted to kill me should be in the house, among the eight of you.

But why did it kill you? Uncle Li didn't lift his head, looking at the medicine bottle in his hand: Did you do something behind our backs?

I just hope to cure you all. The doctor stared at Uncle Li, as if trying to determine whether the murderer was him.

Everyone should stop running around recently, it's really not safe in this building. The teacher's voice was very gentle, but there was also a trace of unease and deeply hidden fear in the gentleness: I have inquired about it, and the neighbors in the building said this It’s not clean, and many people die without understanding, and people from other places like to go here to commit suicide, and it feels like this building is like a black hole that keeps attracting the dead.”

She tried her best to persuade everyone not to run around. She likes everyone to stay in a safe room and stay away from danger: The deaths of those people should not be simply accidents. There are many particularly scary stories circulating in this building. , like a monster with a pig face, the stench in the corridor that can't be washed away by any detergent, a suicide person who has to walk upstairs with a broken body, etc. In short, no matter whether there are ghosts in this world, we Be careful.

Isn't there only a few of us living in this building, aren't the other residents living well? The student walked to the door, but the thugs were unwilling to let them go. The students were not afraid of ghosts, but were somewhat afraid of the thugs.

Regarding the question of whether there are ghosts in the world, several people in the room had different answers, and none of them could convince the other. After arguing for a long time, the doctor suddenly looked at the writer who said nothing.

Writer, you were the one who first saw the letter, and you were the one who accepted the invitation. Do you think the person who wrote the letter was a ghost? Or a human?

The doctor is a very intelligent man, and there seems to be a special meaning hidden in every word of his.

Although it was not specified, everyone present heard something from the doctor's words, and the doctor seemed to be suspicious of the writer.

It seems that the lights in the house flickered a few times because of the unstable voltage.

Everyone looked at the writer sitting in the corner. Compared with the others in the room, he had a unique temperament that was difficult to describe in words.

It was as if there was a rope that was a mix of reason and madness hanging around his neck. The rope was falling from the heavens, and it was slowly tightening. When he was about to hang him, it also brought him closer and closer to the answer.

Raising his head, the writer glanced at the doctor, and his gaze made the doctor feel dodged involuntarily.

If I want to kill you, then it should be eight of us around a corpse, discussing why you committed suicide.

There is no redundant elaboration, but it is full of persuasion, and there seems to be no reason to refute it.

I accepted the invitation just to finish writing my book, and this place is the perfect place for me to give myself the end of my story.

The lights in the house began to flicker again. When the writer spoke, footsteps were faintly heard in the corridor outside the door, and a faint stench poured in from the crack of the door. It seemed that all abnormalities would only appear when the writer spoke. .

The doctor stared at the writer for a long time, and his facial expression changed several times before finally returning to normal.

As if nothing had happened just now, he changed the topic: My experience is a wake-up call for everyone. The murderer is using all kinds of terrible rumors to kill people. After you leave here, just stay in your own peace. In the room, don't go out under any circumstances before dawn...

Before the doctor could finish speaking, he heard a strange sound coming from the door of the living room. It seemed that someone was scratching the door with their fingernails. Everyone who approached heard the wind chime. The strange sound seemed to come from room 401.

As the wind chimes rang, a pungent stench emerged from every corner of the room, and no one knew what the stench was coming from, as if the room itself was a corpse.

The students started retching, the teacher and readers frowned, A Meng covered his mouth and nose, and only the doctor, writer and Uncle Li looked as usual in the room.

The discussion about Specter and the murderer was fruitless, and the physical discomfort gradually became obvious. The students looked around to find the source of the odor.

in the end unable to

While enduring the strong stench, the student pushed the thug's body away: Do whatever you want to do yourself, don't get involved with me, I'll go back to the room.

The student grabbed the door handle, and when he was about to open the door, the other hand pressed on the door panel.

Looking along that arm in confusion, the student saw that the writer had walked beside the door at some point.

He was about to push the writer away, but his hand stopped when he was about to touch the writer's shoulder, and he saw the writer's face.

Deep in the calm eyes, there is a world that is completely derailed from reality. Auditory hallucinations, hallucinations, and delusions are the most destructive positive symptoms of schizophrenia. The writer has become accustomed to it, and for him, the boundaries of reality are very blurred.

If you go out, you may die

Silently looking at the living people in the room in front of him, the writer gently pressed his temples, and various noises came from his ears.

He is trying his best to control his behavior. He has tried very hard to suppress the desire to scream, hit the wall, and tear everything to pieces, but every word of his will still make the whole room depressed, and his emotions seem to be able to Infected all sub-personalities.

With his palm extended to the student, the writer who was in extreme conflict clearly wanted to grab the student and prevent him from leaving.

But the reality is different from the script. The students subconsciously avoided the writer's hand, pushed the door and ran out!

This is almost the body's instinctive reaction when it encounters danger. The student has forgotten what to say next, he just doesn't want to be stared at by the writer in front of him.

return!

When the door was opened, the odor in the house dissipated a lot, and the atmosphere that was suppressed to death also weakened. Several of the actors looked at Han Fei and even breathed a sigh of relief.

The writer played by Han Fei is only a supporting role, but he really seems to be the main character. His emotions can infect everyone in the house. His ability to control the scene is terrifying, and Bai Xian, who plays the doctor, is secretly shocked. : Young people these days are really good at acting.

It's more than good. Li Huaiming, whose expression was not affected by the smell or other experiences, took out a bottle of medicine from his clothes pocket, poured two tablets and swallowed: His acting skills are like A knife with a sharp edge, it can break through some appearances and directly pierce the hearts of the audience. He can let his emotions infect everyone, and he can also take it freely, but I am worried that he will be affected by the characters in the play Himself, after all, his role is relatively dangerous.

The two veteran actors recognized Han Fei very much, and everyone got to know each other. Just when they were about to chat with Han Fei, a scream suddenly came from the corridor.

What did not happen in this script completely pulled all the actors back to reality, and all of them ran out of room 404.

They saw the child who played the student fell down on the stairs, and the steps leading to the third floor were thrown with the corpses of many birds. Some of those corpses had been dead for a long time, and their feathers and blood had solidified together.

What's going on? Hearing the screams, the door on the third floor was opened, Director Zhang and the staff ran over, and they also saw the bird corpse on the stairs: Who did this? Props! Props!

Director Zhang, we didn't do this! The staff in charge of the props rushed over: Didn't you say that we should all leave the fourth floor and give the actors a separate break-in time?

Didn't you do it? Director Zhang asked people to quickly clean up the bird corpse, and then ran to the fourth floor: Everyone is okay.

It's okay. Several actors were also a little puzzled: You haven't come to the fourth floor?

Yeah! We've been watching you on the third floor through the broadcaster, and you've done a great job.

What's the matter with the sudden smell and the sound of scratching the door? Bai Xian was stunned for a moment, he thought it was arranged by the director.

Smell? Director Zhang smelled it, and there was no peculiar smell in the corridor, but he did not refute Bai Xian: It's probably the ghosts of other neighbors in the building, we have given a lot of money, but there are still a small number of people. I don't want us to come here to film.