Chapter 110: Ancient Echo (2)

The night outside the window is deep, the dim candlelight inside the window is covered with a pathological wax yellow gauze for the white walls, the simple and elegant dark red furniture is spotless, full of mysterious luster, as if the undried blood is still rippling, the East The vases in the style are clusters of withered flowers. Dark purple petals hang weakly on the shriveled bones. It seems that only a light breeze will wither them, although they have already lost their lives.
The huge quartz clock ticked like an echo of ghosts lamenting. The huge paintings on the walls were embedded in golden borders. The picture was full of scenes of death and disaster. The skeleton-shaped crowd struggled in the quagmire and flames. The pain was The only tone.
In the center of the house is a long dining table with cutlery arranged neatly on both sides. The golden candlesticks display carefully cooked food, from fresh vegetable salads to tender meat steaks in the outer coke, to unknown poultry. Meat is all displayed in the most perfect form, but there is only one person to enjoy them.
The dark brown short hair was neatly combed to the sides of the forehead, the angular chin was clean and clean without a beard, and the pale skin, although not pathological, had a rock-like texture, and the light green eyes were always drooping, It's hard to figure out a bit of feelings about its owner. The tall nose is a pair of wide lips.
This is a middle-aged man who looks quite easy-going and elegant. The slim black dress is so decent on him. No matter in any human country, no one doubts that he has a decent identity and good knowledge. A standard gentleman The template is perfectly reflected in him.
At the meal, he showed the knife and fork to the most ceremonial point, although he was the only one in this spacious but empty room.
Every piece of food was carefully cut and sent into the mouth with a silver fork. His chewing is always slow, and he does not make a sound, and he does not see any happy or contented expression on his face, as if it was just for Taste every hint of food, not enjoy them.
He hastily eaten plate after plate of food without worrying about the length of time or showing any signs of stagnation, as if giving him enough food he can continue to eat like this.
Suddenly, a clear echo of footsteps came from outside the door, and it was getting closer, but the man was not moving, and was still enjoying the food.
The footsteps stopped outside the gate. With a slight creak of wood, a woman in a black mourning dress came in.
Her face was as pale as paper, her lips painted ominous black, pale blonde hair curled up behind her head, her body full of charm and gloomy temperament.
The sudden intruder broke the silence in the house and let the almost stagnation time turn again.
"The Lins have heard from the news that the army of Ok is swept northward, and this time the commander is their king."
The man who was about to put a cut piece of meat in the mouth. After hearing the last sentence, he gave a deep sigh, put down the knife and fork in his hand, and took off the napkin on his neck with regret, and folded it. Put it on the table.
"God is the cruelest. It always kills another by one's hand."
His voice has a frosted texture, low but not gloomy, just like the final sound of the opera, a kind of emotional short tone.
The woman came to him and took out the handkerchief to wipe the stains off his mouth, but he turned his head away from the other's hand and picked up a cloth from the table and wiped it at will.
But the woman did not feel any annoyance or sorrow, but instead naturally withdrew the handkerchief with an expression. It seems that such a thing has happened countless times.
"The priest may need a party."
A cold voice came out of his black lips. The middle-aged gentleman moved the chair half a step back, then leaned back and closed his eyes.
"Crazy is the best medicine, they are too sensible."
"But Oak's invasion is imminent, and the news will soon spread throughout the Silent Hill, and all the denominations will know."
"Hush..."
The middle-aged man raised his finger in front of his lips, and a grotesque smile appeared on his face with closed eyes.
"listen."
The woman's expression remained indifferent.
"I can't hear anything."
"It's a pity that their cries still remain in my auricles, the roar of that unique life, do you know what reminds me?"
"I don't know."
"I heard the first cry of myself, giving life and ending life have the same noble meaning."
The man opened his eyes, the smile on his face heating up.
"You really should look at them, they are masterpieces that God cannot create, so pure and flawless."
"But they just want to destroy us."
"Emotion is a gift given to mankind by the gods, and cruelty is a gift given by mankind to himself."
After talking, he condensed his smile and straightened his waist again.
"But before that, they had to pass there."
"Echo Marsh."
"Let Bakshaev and Natalia take the predators to join in the fun, and I have always been curious about what secrets those things have guarded from the ancient past to the present."
"Do I need to inform Mr. Parker?"
"Isn't he always busy cooperating with blood worship? Why should we bother him? It is not easy to find a goal for one person."
"I see, Mr. Hannibal."
After the woman nodded, she turned and walked away from the gate, but suddenly the man called Hannibal spoke again.
"Bidelia, by the way, let me inform the Ministry of Foreign Affairs that I have recently arranged a meeting with the Hawks."
"Yes~EbookFREE.me~ After the woman left, Hannibal looked at the gradually cold food, shook his head helplessly, got up from the chair, and walked to the tall bookshelf.
When he gently turned a white sculpture, the bookshelf slowly opened a dark compartment, which was lined with hundreds of large and small glass jars, and various human organs floated in the slightly turbid liquid. , Eyeballs, tongue, fingers, ears, and even the atrophy brain, but none of this is comparable to the one Hannibal picked up.
In the pot with two palms, there is a dark red heart. It does not float as quietly as other organs. As part of the body, it twitches from time to time, showing some signs of survival.
Hannibal gently stroked the surface of the glass jar, as if he was touching his "Qingengren", his eyes full of intoxication and fantasy, and the same words repeated in his mouth.
"God loves the world..."
The heart is still twitching slightly.
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