The dim corridor on the second floor, the narrow corridor makes people can't help but have an inexplicable sense of suffocation, the lamps on the walls on both sides are cobwebs, and there is a hint of musty smell in the air. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

The once luxurious erosion, after the extreme singing, quietly disappeared into the dust of history, except for an oil painting, who wrote down your surname?

At the end of the hallway, a door was hidden, and the light grazed the crack in the door, slightly illuminating the pattern of the carpet outside.

James said that the rooms on the second floor were basically locked......

I frowned slightly and stopped.

In the air, fine dust floats.

Suddenly, I felt a staring gaze behind me, and I instinctively turned around, but behind me was just a silent and narrow corridor.

Inexplicably watched, the strange atmosphere gradually expanded in the air.

Frowning, I turned my head, took a breath, and walked to the hidden door.

"Squeak......

The door was gently pushed open, and a small studio was opened.

The first thing that catches the eye is a bust standing in the middle of the room, the sculpture is a short-haired woman, looking slightly up at the upper right, her hands clasped around her chest, as if praying to the Creator to look at the holy light of heaven. Six or seven panels surround the sculpture, covered with white cloths, some of which fall to the dark wooden floor, revealing half of the unfinished painting. On the left side of the room stood two tall cabinets, on which were placed all kinds of human head statues, and I approached the cabinet, and my eyes fell on the lifelike white sculptures, men, women, old people, children, staring with their eyes open, painful with their eyes closed, laughing, and crying, intertwined into a silent picture.

The wind gently blew into the studio, blowing the light-colored bed curtains, and blowing the hair around my ears, which made me feel a little cool.

"Click." The door closed behind me.

I turned around vigilantly.

In the empty studio, a statue of an adult male stared at me silently in the right corner. With well-defined muscles, a strong **** upper body, and a cloth around his lower body, he just stood in the corner, clenched his fists, and the corners of his mouth tightened, like a majestic guardian, staring at everyone who entered the room.

Dead.

The dead silence of the cemetery.

The wind blows the curtains.

I looked at the soft white curtain and fell into deep thought.

Someone, opened the window......

Stepping over the cold wooden floor, I stared intently at the fluttering curtains.

The wind, carrying the smell of earth, blew in my face and blew my hair open.

Dark window frames, sunlight illuminates the windows without mullions, and outside the window, there is a solemn cathedral, and the blue sky in the distance is lonely without a single cloud.

The window was only up to my waist, and I leaned out slightly with my hands on the rough lattice.

Standing at the window, you can overlook the garden on the first floor, some zombies wander among the grass, on the street outside the black fence, more raged zombies drag the mutilated body wanderer, I saw a zombie crawling on the ground without the lower half of the body, its bloody hands are stubbornly picking at the ground, the body moves forward little by little, the abdomen is sticking to the flesh that has not been completely torn, leaving a bloody trace. I felt my stomach churn and I looked away.

To the left, you can see the gravel road leading to the church, and the grey gravel road is left with a pool of blood, like the one left by Andrew's fight with the zombies yesterday. The zombie that had attacked me was still lying on the ground, the back of its head completely blown away, and its white brain was exposed in the air, dripping all over the ground.

Wait a minute......

As if touching a fulcrum in my memory, I squinted.

What's not right......

Brushing my palm against the rough lattice, I looked down and thought about it.

Yesterday......

I helped Andrew down the gravel path......

The zombies attacked us, and Andrew pushed me away, but I was crushed to the ground by another zombie......

The wind, blowing on the cheeks.

Now, in the past, the images are intertwined, the memories return little by little, and I bite my lower lip.

Just as it was about to bite me......

At that time......

The wind blew the curtains silently, and suddenly I noticed something that had fallen under the windowsill.

Leaving the windowsill, I crouched down and picked up the pod-like thing.

Icy touch -

Shell casings.

Doubts, the darkness generally widened little by little, engulfing my mind entirely.

Exactly, how many other things are quietly happening that I don't know......

I looked up and noticed a painting hanging on the wall.

Putting down the bullet casings in my hand, I stood up and walked towards the painting, as if I had received an inexplicable summons.

On the oil painting, there is a long dining table, the twelve disciples sit on either side of Jesus, Jesus sits lonely in the middle, his face is reflected by the bright window behind him, looking solemn, and the restless disciples next to Jesus, each with different facial expressions, eyes, and movements, gestures, and demeanors.

The Last Supper.

"The Last Supper, 1494~1498, created by the Italian artist Leonardo da Vinci, Wolflin commented that this painting 'only can give the viewer pleasure or distraction factors are from the scene, only what can meet the urgent needs of the subject is provided to the imagination, nothing exists for itself, everything in the painting is for the whole'."

I turned my head and saw Tina standing in the doorway with the doorknob in her hands.

Her gaze shifted from me to the painting hanging on the wall, and she let go of the doorknob, clasping her hands over her chest, and walked into the room without hurry.

"The original is in the monastery of Santa Maria del Gocchi in Milan, Italy, and it is a replica." She stopped beside me and looked at the thirteen figures on the painting.

Sniffing the tobacco smell on her body, I followed her gaze and looked at the painting.

Thirteen people, thirteen forms.

The colors alternate brightly, illuminated, dark, contrasting, heavy but slightly helpless.

After a few seconds of silence, Tina looked back at me, her eyes a little wary.

"What are you doing?"

"Do the same thing as you."

"Anything unusual?" She narrowed her eyes slightly, and the crystal stud earrings reflected the light slightly.

"Nope." I turned around and closed the window.

The wind, stopped by the world outside the window for a moment, everything is calm again.

Feel her gaze falling on you.

"Click." I locked the window.

"If I solve your ...... here," Tina's voice was unhurried, "our food shortage may ease somewhat." ”

Gripping the lock tightly, I looked up at my own reflection in the glass.

“…… It's not funny. ”

After a few seconds of silence, the other party snorted softly.

"yes, I think so too."

"Dah. Click. ”

The footsteps were far behind me, and I looked back at her departing back.

I watched her until the footsteps were swallowed up by the long narrow hallway.

The warm sun shrouded my body, and the warm feeling gradually overflowed my body, but my heart was cold.

Just now, through the reflection of the glass, I saw Tina behind me take out a switchblade hidden in her pocket......

But after a few seconds of thought, she put away her knife and turned to leave.

With a chill in my eyes, I raised my hand and brushed the hair from my cheeks behind my ears.

Like, something is going to happen......

I looked at a few migratory birds flying in the distance, and my heart sank.

Lowering my head, I turned and walked to the door, and before leaving, I glanced at the painting again.

Jesus, sitting in the center of the painting, his wise eyes seem to be able to travel through time and space and predict the future.

What does it feel like to predict your own death?

[The man who shared a plate with me is going to betray me......]

Jesus said.

Treachery.

Will you choose to forgive, or judge?