Gatson watched in disbelief, feeling like his eyes were about to burst. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

Siddish's eyes regained their brightness, and she moved her arms and slowly stood up.

"Gatson, are you here?" She looked at Gatson and said coldly.

Gatson didn't speak.

Siddis is no longer the original Siddish.

"What's wrong, Gatson? Don't you love me very much? Siddis walked towards him step by step.

Gatson suddenly felt a trance.

Did Siddis really come back to life? I'm not dreaming, am I?

If Siddis was really resurrected, he would definitely be too late to rejoice.

He forgot his suspicions, walked up to Siddes, smiled, and said, "Great, Siddis, you're all right." ”

"Of course I'm fine," Ciddis tilted her head slightly, revealing a seductive smile, "Is there any plan for you to come to my tent so late?" ”

At this moment, Gatson had completely forgotten the scene just now, and he couldn't help but reach out and wrap his hand around Siddish's waist.

Suddenly, he suddenly came to his senses.

The touch on my hand was ......

Gatson retracted his hand and took two steps back.

"What? Any questions? Siddis was still smiling.

But the smile seemed to Gatson more terrifying than anything else.

He immediately let out a strange cry of terror and rushed out of the tent.

Just now, when he wrapped his arms around Siddish's waist, the touch of his hand told him that what he was touching was not a living human body at all, but a humanoid object wrapped in human skin. When his hand strained slightly, he even felt the skin slide, which was clearly separated from the torso inside.

Gatson finally realized a very serious problem.

This Dark Raven Ridge, there are ghosts.

He ran back to his tent, where there was no one. He slipped into his sleeping bag but didn't close his eyes.

It's so weird here.

He kept thinking, but couldn't think of anything other than that.

A night breeze blew and the tent shook a little. Outside, there was a rustle of leaves shaking and a howling sound like a ghost's cry.

There were no gaps in the tent, and the wind outside was not blowing in, but Gatson felt cold all over his body, and his head hurt. He covered his head with his hands, felt his headache split, and a terrible scream came out of his mouth. Seemingly unfamiliar memories poured into his mind, like an uninvited guest, desperately squeezing in, as if to squeeze his head out.

Monroe...... Father...... Twenty years ago...... Experiment...... Disappear...... Hospital......

One by one, words squeezed into his brain like ghosts, and one by one images appeared in front of his eyes.

"Who? Who is it? What Monroe? Who am I? Gatson roared with all his might.

Suddenly, he stopped moving, his eyes became glazed, but his consciousness entered another world.

The world of memories.

At the age of twenty-two, he felt a strong wave of jealousy as he watched other young people who had just graduated from college go to their respective jobs in high spirits. Standing at the gate of the courtyard, watching the pedestrians coming and going, he felt that the world was making fun of himself.

"Hey, Desmond!" A voice came from high behind him.

He looked back and saw the weather-beaten face of his father, Monroe Sr.

In fact, his father was not old at that time, but he was forty-five years old, but his health was greatly affected by the long period of hard work, and he kept getting fat while he was constantly working, and the effects of tobacco and alcohol made him weak, and he felt out of breath with a few random swings of the hammer.

"What are you doing, old man?" He turned his head back and shouted dissatisfied.

"Don't you live in this house? Let your dad and I fix it alone? Old Monroe shouted with some difficulty.

"I don't care." He didn't even look at his father, and continued to stare angrily at the passers-by.

"Alas......" Old Monroe sighed, sat for a moment, and climbed down the ladder from the roof.

Old Monroe sat on a broken wooden chair, looking at his son's back shrouded in the yellow and clear sunshine of the setting sun, but he felt bitterness not in his heart.

Twenty-two years old, a twenty-two-year-old young man, neither studying nor working, idling all day long, and fighting and causing trouble from time to time, how can he not worry?

For him now, breathing has become a luxury. Looking at the sunset in the west, old Monroe felt that his time was numbered.

His wife has long since died, and if he dies again, how will this unfortunate son survive? He is just an ordinary worker, with a meager income and almost zero savings, so he can't leave anything at all.

Just then, an old neighbor walked over.

"Hey, Ned," the old neighbor greeted Monroe Sr., "how are you doing?" ”

"As it is," said old Monroe, "what about you, Lambert?" ”

"It's okay, let's mess around. I said, my son recently conducted an experiment at their school, are you interested in hearing about it? ”

"Don't be kidding, how can I understand the experiments in college?" Old Monroe shook his head.

"Make sure you understand," Lambert said, "I won't say anything about the experiment, but something that has something to do with you." ”

Old Monroe was a little surprised and said, "What can the experiments in the university have to do with me?" ”

"I know you, brother, are short of money. No, my son is studying psychology, and recently he is going to conduct a large psychology experiment, and he needs some volunteers. As long as you successfully participate in the whole process, you will be paid this amount. ”

With that, Lambert held out five fingers.

"How much is this?" Old Monroe was a little dazed, "Fifty? ”

"Fifty thousand. What do you think? Interested? ”

Old Monroe thought he had misheard and repeated it.

"How much? Fifty thousand? ”

"Yes, fifty thousand. Participate or not? ”

Old Monroe didn't speak, he still couldn't believe that there was such a good thing in the world. He turned his head to look at his son's back, and suddenly made up his mind.

"I'll participate!" "But there shouldn't be any danger, right?" How long does it take? Will there be any restrictions on freedom during the experiment? ”

"Don't worry, my son is a good citizen and won't mess around."

Lambert went on to explain the content and conditions of the large psychological experiment, and in the end, the elder Monroe agreed.

He needs money.

To be precise, his son, Desmond Monroe, needed money.

He hopes that he can use the last period of his life in exchange for this income and leave a living allowance for his son.

Desmond did not know the content of the experiment, only that he had not seen his father since, but that his neighbor, Uncle Lambert, would often come to his house, bring him something to eat, and occasionally help clean the room.

The next news I heard about my father turned out to be his death. Along with the news, there was also a check.