Secret. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

Your sweet and dirty, little secret.

The deepest longing in the bottom of my heart, wrapped in endless greed and a little attachment, spreads, multiplies, blooms blood-colored petals, and is dotted with the madness of death. You hide it in the night with all your might, forgetting to cover up the temptation of the secret itself.

The person who told the secret did not find out, and the moment the secret was revealed, it lost its sole value. When your secret is known to everyone, anyone can play with you and kill you.

Weakness, which is also the value of secret existence.

Hush......

Listen, there's a voice behind me, he's telling me, your secret.

―――――――――――――――――――――――― the dividing line of the main story―――――――――――――――――――

"Sand ......"

Quietly stepping through the mist-soaked grass, dark boots treading through the slightly muddy soil, piercing through the thin coolness of the air, and the next moment carefully crushed against the gray stone bricks as if deliberately muffled the sound.

Wet and heavy, cold, water vapor suspended in the air at my fingertips, frozen in front of the small gray tombstones, stepping on the cold, my cheeks were covered with fine moisture, I couldn't help but clench my arms, take a deep breath, a chill jumped up my spine from the bottom of my heart, from the inside out, I shivered lightly.

A silent central cemetery.

Gray tombstones stood silently on the cold stone bricks, row after row, as far as the eye could see, occupying the hillside, extending to the fog-hidden peaks and overgrown slopes at the foot of the mountain.

Walk through the central cemetery.

It's the eastern cemetery......

I silently pondered the words of the mausoleum keeper, silently stepped over a potted plant that had fallen on the stone steps, and walked past the tombstones that were "coldly watched". On the tombstones in the central cemetery, the names and years of death of the deceased have been blurred, and occasionally some tombstones are pasted with black and white photos of the deceased, but a corner of the photo has been damaged under the baptism of time, or the face in the photo has been blurred.

Old people, children.

Men, women.

Both.

They don't breathe, they don't remember, but they have eyes.

The night is their pupil, and Satan is their subordinate.

They peep at the incoming and going, those things that they have pursued, those joys, sorrows and sorrows that have been overturned in the bottom of their hearts, once again repeated in strangers, infinitely looping, are they mocking, or are they sad? Life is always beginning and ending.

The collar was full of moisture, I lowered my body slightly, the tip of my nose was cold, I folded my arms and silently looked at the tombstones beside me that had been corroded and melted by the wind and rain, the chill penetrated into the bone marrow, and the eyes that had lost their brilliance in the photo stared at the world emptyly.

The corpse, speechless.

Stepping up the stairs, the dagger hidden in my boot was a little ankle-high, and I stopped, pursed my lips and looked at the white mist grove on the other side of the cemetery.

Where is Andrew now?

The question broke into my mind out of place, alone, the chess game was messy, and I somehow missed the resolute black man.

It's been a while since the zombie outbreak, and all the Heavenly Punishment participants are gathering at the Grave Tombs, and the sacrifices are bound to appear.

Sacrifice Tina or Joanna?

I was silent, and took a step, stepping into the group of tombs surrounded by white fog in front of me.

The air was filled with fine moisture that wet my hair and stained my collar, and the cold touch awakened the vigilance of every pore.

The silence of death made my heart beat slightly.

Lowering my body, I walked past the rows of somewhat worn tombstones.

The tombstones on the east side of the central cemetery are obviously much more dilapidated than those on the west side, some of the tombstones in front of them have cracked, some of the tombstones are missing a corner, some of the tombstones are overturned on the ground, the weeds next to the graves seem to have been turned over, and the dead yellow roots are lifeless and exposed to the humid air, silently accusing the gravediggers of sin.

The white light is sprinkled at the last end of life.

The dirt that had been turned out on the stone bricks was wet, as if it had been dug up a long time ago, and a small corner of the black coffin was exposed to the air in the dark brown dirt.

It seems that I am not the only visitor......

With my heart sinking, I quickened my pace and rushed to the eastern cemetery, raised my foot and stepped over a tombstone that had fallen to the ground, lowered my body and was about to move on, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the black-and-white photo of the overturned tombstone.

Wait a minute......

I was stunned, my heart beat seemed to stop for a few seconds, and I couldn't help but pause with my right foot.

That man......

Turning around slightly mechanically, I crouched down with bated breath.

The cold, wrapped in the breath of death, rolled in.

"Rustling ......" The sound of the wind brushing the dead leaf forest in the distance is slightly noisy.

I narrowed my eyes slightly, and the white light grazed my shoulders, illuminating the black-and-white photograph of the tombstone - it was a boy, dressed in a white shirt, with a well-defined face, he pursed the corners of his mouth, and a pair of dark eyes looked at the camera calmly, but with a little unfocused, a few strands of hair hanging down in front of his forehead, framed in the moment on the photo.

A feeling of suffocation inexplicably welled up my throat, and my gaze followed the black and white light.

Suddenly, I saw the gray-white tombstone chiseled with the name and year cut out.

【Hall Howard】

【1986－2012】

Like a scorched thunderbolt on my head, I was instantly stunned in place.

In my mind, a face under the light of the fire slowly emerged, and that face overlapped with the boy in the photo, the eye sockets, eyebrows, eyes, and contours all matched...... Suddenly, a dull pain came from the deepest part of my head, as if a nerve was being pressed by death, I gritted my teeth and subconsciously curled up between two rows of tombstones, my hands tightly grabbed my hair, and in my heart, a certain voice, with a bit of sarcasm, repeated a sentence in a hoarse voice.

……

[Seeing is believing.] 】

[Seeing is believing.] 】

[Seeing is believing.] 】

……

It seemed that a smiling face was gradually amplified in the depths of my mind, and the low voice was like a dark messenger of hell, constantly repeating hoarse and terrifying words, the dull pain pulled and dizzy, and the eardrum faintly whispered, I couldn't bear it, I gritted my teeth and rushed out.

"Get out of my head, you ****!"

Airplanes......

The sneering voice was instantly suppressed, and the mixed thoughts in the depths of his head were swept away.

The next moment, the heart is like a hollow sculpture, and the cold wind swishs in, but it does not feel any warmth.

Breathing heavily, I clenched my fist and punched the hard ground.

The phalanges ached.

This hellish place!

I cursed, staggered, and stood up with my hands propped up, but my eyes were fixed on the picture of the tombstone, as if the boy with his lips pursed would turn his gaze to himself the next moment.

Must be crazy......

I turned around with a gloomy face, tugging at my hair irritably, and a pang of pain came from my scalp.

"Whew...... Whew......"

Suddenly, a strange sound came from the silent cemetery, like a sharp thorn in my heart.

All my troubled thoughts were cut off at once, and the movement came to a screeching halt in mid-air.

"Whew...... Whew......"

The voice was a little clearer.

Like a fist hitting the heart hard, I nervously held my breath.

I'm not alone in this area......

The white mist, which vaguely enveloped the layers of tombstones, also wrapped my heart.

I bit my lower lip and propped up my ears to distinguish it, the sound sounded like a bit of male wheezing, but mixed with a little hurry, inopportunely piercing the tranquility wrapped in the white mist, fermenting in the silence, as if venting, but also as if begging. Hurriedly, a little faster, a little heavier, like a beast silently venting the longing that had been suppressed in his heart for a long time, becoming more and more unscrupulous.

The sound made my scalp tingle, and I subsided the sound, and I followed the place where the sound had come from.

"Whew...... Whew......"

It's close.

It's closer.

I stepped over the weeds on the stone steps, bit my lower lip, and lowered myself to hide behind a tombstone with broken edges.

"Whew...... Whew......"

The sound is close at hand!

I leaned out from behind the tombstone.

The first thing that catches the eye is a small tombstone in the next stage of the tombstone that falls to the ground indiscriminately, behind the tombstone, many deep layers of black soil are messily turned out of the ground, the grass roots mixed with the soil contaminated with moist air, a small black coffin is placed crookedly next to the tombstone, and the cold coffin lid is open, revealing the white lining.

I squinted my eyes vigilantly and saw a man crouching in front of the tombstone.

He was on his side to me, his knees on the stone bricks in front of the small tombstone. The thin body was covered with a gray knit sweater, the black trousers were stained with mud, his hands were pressed on the wet and cold steps, supporting the slightly lowered upper body, the slightly faded hair ends hung down in front of his forehead, the man opened his mouth slightly and let out a strange gasping sound, and his body moved with the rhythm of increasingly rapid breathing.

Wayne!

I snapped in breath and recognized the pale-faced man.

"Whew...... Whew......"

A few meters away, Wayne's breathing grew heavier, and something seemed to loom in the shadows of his body......

A clammy fear crossed my heart, and I gritted my teeth and pressed my hands on the clammy weeds, cautiously, and poked my head out a little.

My gaze swept over Wayne's waist and saw "something" beneath him—short limbs, tiny bodies wrapped in broken fabric, white skirts and panties torn, immature chests exposed to the cold and wet air, little girls with two ponytails lying on their backs like a discarded doll, their eyes rolled and their pale cheeks bloodless.

Wayne impatiently raised his hand and pressed the little girl's calf, and the rhythm under his body accelerated a little faster with the sound of rapid breathing.

I gasped, and fear jumped up my spine for a moment.

He's in ****?!