Catherine didn't understand what Sasha meant, she just reflexively tried to stop herself from thinking of the things that had brought her pain and humiliation, but it backfired, Sasha's words were like a key, she opened the door, the black hole room opened, naked intimidation, insults, and injuries hung in it one by one like pigs in the cold storage, and all the scars were vividly turned out, displayed in the cold mist for everyone to admire.

In the orphanage, she was isolated and bullied; When she went to school, her lovely face and clever mind won her some admiration and kindness, but the good times did not last long, and the children in the orphanage also went to school, and they continued to chase and laugh at her, introducing everyone to the "little madman without a sister"—because she would cry or yell for no reason—and no one knew what it was for, and no one wanted to know. The malevolent atmosphere continued until she finished high school and went to college in another state, and because she had been isolated from normal social circles for a long time, Catherine was very rusty and timid in her dealings with others, who found her withdrawn and aloof, unapproachable, although she was indeed beautiful. As she was about to graduate from college, she tried to sexually get a boyfriend, and the result was a sex affair that was almost equivalent to rape and a year and four months of incarceration and forced treatment (reverse bondage garments, mouth plugs, tranquilizers) in the violence ward of the state psychiatric hospital, where she grabbed one of the guy's testicles.

This particular resume left her almost unemployed, and many places would rather hire a man with a criminal record than deal with a young girl with a history of violent mental illness, and at one point she lived in the worst part of the state, doing the most tiring, dirty, and longest jobs, being robbed, beaten, or abused under intense violence of one kind or another...... It hurts every time, both physically and spiritually.

But it's easy to find the heaviest scar, because it's the earliest, the biggest, the deepest.

It was her six-year-old sister, with blonde hair, purple eyes, and snow-white skin glowing soft pink in the sun, and she calmly said to Catherine, "Goodbye." ”

She was taken by the hand by the adopter and boarded into the black car with a white curtain parked behind the iron gate of the orphanage, and never looked back.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye......

Catherine never saw her again.

***

Intense and sharp pain struck the priest.

His already pale face suddenly sunken, blood flowed from the corners of his mouth and eyes, his hands and feet vibrated and opened like those struck by a high-voltage electric current, and they swung in the air, and the Bible and the sand fell at the same time, and his tall body fell backwards and fell straight into the water.

Catherine, who was already half submerged in the water, fell backwards and sank into the blackened Amazon after nearly colliding with a wide crocodile tail.

After the initial chaos had passed, she saw something glowing in the water, and it was Sasha's hair...... Or the body, Catherine didn't have time to think too much, she swam towards the child, took her by the legs, lifted her up first, and then herself.

She breathed in pain, calming her exploding lungs, as she squinted at the nearby water, a wide-brimmed hat whirling lonely, and two or three crocodiles patrolling around, yes, the shuttles, like the plainclothes guards at the Queen's side, their glowing eyes looming in the darkness, their ebony bodies floating on the river, not attacking Catherine, nor sinking into the water as they were to wait for the next prey.

Catherine's hair clung to her cheeks and neck, obscuring her vision and making her at least feel limited in her movements, she stepped on the water, put the sand on her shoulder, and with one free hand scooped it all behind her head. Sasha didn't look very well, she coughed quietly, her brow furrowed, her shoulders tucked in front of her chest, and her hands clasped Catherine's head tightly, trying not to let herself fall into the water again; The crocodiles quickly swam to help, carefully lifting Catherine and the sand on her shoulders until they were carried to a pier that had not yet been touched by the fire.

In the meantime Sand muttered a few muttered words, and Catherine's ears were filled with water, and they buzzed, and she could not hear them, but she took them as the words of a frightened child. She rested against the wooden base of the trestle, twisted her body and took off her coat, using it instead of a rescue rope noose, tying the sand behind her, moving her hands and feet, and began to climb up.

She didn't pay attention behind her.

The water rolled like boiled milk coffee, and a large amount of foam churned out of the cloudy liquid, taking on a touching pink sheen under the snowball moon.

***

Sasha knew that she was a little overloaded today, the child's body could not fully support her abilities for the time being, and just now, she had the privilege of acting as an intermediary to amplify and purify Catherine's most intense pain and hatred and pass it on to the priest, just like a voltage regulator "mistakenly" injecting excessive voltage into an electrical appliance, which burned out, but the regulator was not comfortable.

Moreover, she gave an order to the strange forest worm - it would search for the priest's corpse and swallow it. This strange and unpredictable character, Sasha, always felt that it was safest to store it in the belly of the forest snake.

The problem is that, as in all horror films, the protagonist is always not idle.

Sasha pressed her face against Catherine's wet back, feeling her muscles writhing and stretching, looking closer to black in the dim light, her purple eyes staring at the boiling water.

Not only the Snake Snakes, but also the crocodiles had joined the siege, but what Sasha saw was a Samson in a vestment (note 1), and the Amazon River seemed to be no different to him, and if it weren't for the pain that had slowed him down, the crocodiles would have followed in the footsteps of the Foresters and had the honor of being disemboweled, by a priest.

They couldn't entangle him, and Sasha knew it, so he could only delay for a little longer—so though Merry was wandering nearby, she was still stopped by her stern drink—and she didn't warn Catherine, who was trying her best to climb up, just as Samson, who had been stripped of his power by his wife's haircut, would not give him a second chance to betray, and the priest would not give them a second chance to get close easily, and as for the rest, neither speed nor strength, Catherine could not compare with her.

There are other people who deal with this guy.

***

Catherine's heart jumped for excitement when she was finally able to put her face and body against the dry, rough asphalt deck – for a few minutes she thought she would never get to a place where she could put her feet on the ground.

She lay there like that, twisting her head, and about a few hundred meters away, the first tower of Ariau was still burning, flames coming out from between the roof and the windows that had been crushed by the copulate balls of the forest worms, and several thick pillars of the main structure glowed a dazzling red light under the cover of the heavy walls of fire, and the furniture, decorations, and decorations that had been satisfactory and joyful were almost burned out; A flaming hammock flew out of the window, tumbling and rolling upwards in a whirlpool of hot air created by the waves of fire, and a little spark was blown away by the wind, like the goddess of spring who sprinkled flowers on the earth, and as soon as the bones of the flames fell there, a large area of golden and bright red flowers of destruction would bloom.

A man came out of the burning hell, his head held high, his gait firm, his hair, which had been smoothed and smooth like a mink, dried by the flames, now covered his head like a handful of soft wool. The hem of the hunting suit was a little wrinkled, and the corners were slightly charred black, and the shiny boots were covered in dust.

Even so, his demeanor and appearance still allow him to enter any opera house or hotel, even if they have more than one vicious doorman with excellent eyes and a harsh temperament.

Anthony. Hopkins.

With a comforting sigh, she lowered her head, lowered her arms, and passed out in a literal coma.

Catherine put her arms around Sasha, stiffening at the sound of slight footsteps behind her.

The priest had simply taken care of himself, his wet forehead hair pulled back, his water-soaked vestments pressed into his belt, his Bible in one hand and his large cross in the other.

The cross was large, forty or fifty centimeters in size, in the shape of a typical Latin cross, and the longitudinal one was slightly longer than the same type of cross, and it was carved with patterns and charms, looking like a variant of a medieval cross.

But Anthony only had a glimpse to know the cross as it really was, just as he could easily discern the same kind before him.

The cross is a well-groomed Malay knife – it's not very famous, Anthony . It was also because of his grandfather, who had a weapon collector's addiction, that Hopkins learned about this strange weapon from the hands of the natives of Southeast Asia - a knife made of meteorite iron and various components of metal, which was delicately folded and forged repeatedly, and its surface often showed a pattern similar to that of a plant leaf vein, with clear lines, and the pattern could be touched by hand. After the final construction is completed, it needs to be processed to make the blade pattern clearer, and there are two common methods: one is to soak it in fresh lemon juice and arsenic water. The second is to use rice soup with sulfide and salt to boil for several hours.

The former is poisonous and better at causing death, and the toxins on it are said to last for almost a hundred years. Or you can add others, such as the bodily fluids of hundreds of highly toxic plants and creatures in the Amazon.

Dr. Hopkins was even more pleasantly surprised by the fact that the young man seemed to know himself well, and he could even name dozens of names that doctors had used in the past, in chronological order.

"So," Anthony. Mr. Hopkins asked pleasantly, "Do you need my signature?" ”

With silver nitrate, sign on his heart.

(To be continued)

(To be continued)

Note 1: Samson (English: Samson; Pinyin: shēnsūn) is a Jewish judge in the Book of Judges, born in Israel in the 11th century BCE, the son of Manoah. Samson was famous for slaying lions with his bare hands and fighting the Philistines, Israel's foreign enemies, with great God-given strength

< ahref=http://www.> www.Welcome book friends to come and read, the latest, fastest, and hottest serialized works are all here!