Chapter 825: Finally arrived, the 14th

"You in the painting?" Chen Ge also leaned in. He had seen all the 13 paintings in the studio and had some impressions on the fourth painting: "You painted this painting?"
Zhou Tu did not speak, his soul seemed to be drawn into the painting, his eyes fixed on the canvas.
The fourth oil painting, it is this oil painting studio.
The upper half of the 13 painters sat on a chair to draw, and the lower half of the painting was a piece of blood. The 13 painters died in their own seats with different methods of death.
It should be noted that in the upper part of the paintings, the paintings drawn by the painters on the drawing board are exactly how they died.
The painters already knew their ending, but they did not choose to change, but recorded everything completely.
When Chen Ge first came to the oil painting studio, he stayed beside this painting for a long time. He didn't expect that this painting would be created by Zhou Tu.
Looking closely, you can find that the painter sitting in the fourth place in the painting is very similar in appearance to Zhou Tu.
"The other paintings are trying to express the reversed world. Only this painting is the painter." Chen Ge did not disturb Zhou Tu. His eyes moved between the painting and Zhou Tu: "What has Zhou Tu experienced?" ? Why is his painting so unique? "
Thirteen painters, Zhou Tu ranked fourth, he is not the oldest senior, but the most unique perspective.
Is different from other people's memories when they were awake. Zhou Tu stood beside the easel. Nothing changed in him, but the atmosphere in the painting room was subtly changed.
The feeling is indescribable, as if all the portraits in the painting have opened their eyes, they are being watched with one eye after another.
"Why am I suddenly a little cold?" Wang Yicheng narrowed his neck and hid behind Zhang Ju. He looked blankly around him with a trace of terror in his eyes.
"Zhou Tu?" Zhang Ju also had a very bad feeling, he patted Zhou Tu's shoulder.
Eyelashes flickered, Zhou Tu's body seemed to be frozen, his eyes reflected the entire studio, and there was no trace of blood on his face.
"Am I dead?"
'S hoarse voice squeezed out of his lips, and as he spoke, the fourth painter in the scroll suddenly moved.
The painter who was originally sitting on the chair suddenly threw away the paintbrush in his hand, grabbed his neck with his hands, and kicked his legs constantly, as if struck his neck by an invisible rope.
His eyes were convex and he was about to squeeze out his eyes. He struggled desperately, but his body left the seat a little bit.
His head was congested and his expression was distorted, gradually becoming the same as himself in the painting.
Even more terrifying is that in the lower half of the painting, the Zhou Zhou in the blood-red world slowly smiled on his face.
"Zhou Tu! Your neck!" Wang Yicheng pointed to Zhou Tu's neck and shouted loudly.
Standing outside the oil painting, Zhou Zhou's body is slowly becoming the same as himself in the oil painting. A black and purple mark appears on his neck. As time goes by, the color of the mark continues to deepen.
The neck became deformed, and a ticking sound came from his ears.
Looking at the sound, Chen Ge found that the second half of the fourth oil painting, the Zhou Tu that was trapped in the blood-red world, died somehow.
He was covered in blood under the canvas, his face pressed against the canvas, his mouth cracked, and blood was running down his face.
The raised eyes, across the canvas, stared at the Zhou figure standing outside the oil painting. It seemed to climb out of the oil painting and drag the Zhou picture outside the scroll into it!
"Mr. Bai, shall we take Zhou Tu away?"
The sound of ticking gradually increases, coming from all directions in the classroom!
Looking around, several members of the Supernatural Research Society found that all the portraits in the entire painting room were abnormal.
People in the picture lie on the frame, they all seem to be ready to come out the same!
"This was not the case last time when I came with the shadow, is it because they perceive the Zhou Tu?"
Facts once again proved that Zhou Tu was unusual. Chen Ge signaled that other members of the community were close to Zhou Tu. If something went wrong, he immediately forcibly took Zhou Tu away.
The blood color on the oil painting became bright, the red mist escaped, and the increasingly thick smell began to appear.
"The situation is not so good!" Zhang Ju and Zhu Long stood beside Zhou Tu. They found that the blood mist in the room began to converge towards Zhou Tu, just like a giant cannibal with an open mouth.
"These things want to enter Zhou Tu's body!"
Blood mist avoids other people and is attracted to Zhou Tu's body, gathering more and more.
"Mr. Bai! Can't wait any longer! Let's leave quickly!" Zhu Long reached out and grabbed Zhou Tu's arm in anxious manner to prevent Zhou Tu from being swallowed up completely by blood mist.
He had good intentions and wanted to drag Zhou Tu out of the center of Blood Mist, but who knew he had just exerted a force, and Blood Mist instantly condensed into a thick rope around his wrist, strangling Zhou Tu ’s neck and hanging him In the center of the house.
"Week Picture!"
The neck was wrapped around the blood-stained cohesive rope, and Zhou's figure wobbled around the house like a pendulum. He looked exactly like himself in the painting.
He has seen his death and recorded his complete death.
"I personally painted what I was when I died. I watched myself hanged and watched my breathlessness ..."
The atmosphere in the oil painting room is more suppressed. There are more and more blood stains flowing out of the oil painting. The people in the painting look at the Zhou picture hanged in the center of the room.
"Hanging is different from other ways of death. It is not like puncturing the heart with a knife. After a short period of numbness, the body seems to be burned by the fire, and the painful feeling spreads from the wound to the whole body. This is a very gentle method of death. By pumping it dry, oxygen will decrease a little bit, and despair will increase a little bit, and you can clearly feel your own death. "
The male voice came from a certain direction in the house, as if from the painting on the wall, or from the gap between the floor and the wall skin.
Chen Ge could not determine the position of the voice, but he could judge that the person who spoke in the oil painting room at the time was the same person who spoke in the toilet on the top floor of the teaching building.
"Don't be afraid of death, I know you will come back, no matter how many times you fled, you will be a member here after all."
It seemed that the voice was talking to Zhou Tu, and the position of the voice master could not be captured at all. If you listen carefully, you might even find that the voice seems to come from Zhou Tu's own mouth.
"Don't resist, your mission has been completed, sit quietly in your place and wait for the last artist to enter."
Blood mist enveloped Zhou Tu, his appearance became more and more terrible, and his figure became thinner at a rate visible to the naked eye.
When everyone paid attention to Zhou Tu, there was no time when the fourteenth easel was added in the oil painting room.
The scattered blood mist floated to the fourteenth easel, leaving a touch of blood red on the smooth human-like canvas, which looked like a skirt dyed with blood from a distance.