I let out hot air to warm my hands, and finally calmed down and lit the torch.

Looking around, it was pitch black six or seven paces out of the woods, and the alarm clock was ringing from my left-hand side of the slope, which didn't seem too far away.

It was the most common kind of mechanical alarm clock with a small hammer striking back and forth between two small bells like buns, which was particularly noisy, and was often woken up at 6 o'clock in the morning when reading. So there is still a conditioned reflex for that sound. I'm sure it's that kind of alarm clock.

I froze there, not knowing how to react for a moment. Listening to the bell makes my heart beat wildly.

Carrying it like that, the clock was clockwork-driven, and when the clockwork was finished, absolute silence returned to the jungle. The moment the voice disappeared, I let out a sigh of relief. The heartbeat just started to slow down.

The piercing ringing in my ears continued to hallucinate for a long time. The tiredness combined with the transition fright made me dizzy.

After taking a few deep breaths, I remembered the countless clocks in Sue's basement that were submerged in formalin, and my hands began to tremble, could it be that every clock was a trophy for him? Is there something in the clock, so it should be embalmed.

The more I thought about it, the more I felt that Su's expression and behavior had an indescribable weirdness.

No, I absolutely ignored it, and followed my thoughts to the end, I took a sip, cheered up, ignored the direction from which the alarm clock sound came from, and ran straight in my direction. While running, I read it over and over again: **, mom, hahahaha. Courage yourself.

Ran out more than ten meters, almost slid down the hill to stop, stood firm and got up, and suddenly heard the sound of the alarm clock again.

This time it was in my uphill direction, a little further away from me.

My heart began to beat faster again, my mind was a little dazed, and I tried to retract my mind, but I stopped my ears and began to run wildly. I didn't stop sweating until I couldn't hear the bell, and suddenly behind me, the same bell appeared again.

This time it was so close, almost behind me, that the hairs on my body exploded, and I immediately turned around and covered my chest with a torch.

The bell kept coming, it was so noisy that my blood began to rise, I lost my cool, and scolded a few times: "You pervert, you!" With that, he rushed over.

I couldn't walk a few steps along the sound, the sound came from overhead, I raised the torch and looked up, suddenly stunned, I saw another hanged person, hanging above my head, a few steps back, this person was a little shorter, wearing a tourist's jacket, with a thick layer of mud on it, and he had been dead for a longer time, and had completely shrunk into a dried corpse. And the sound of the alarm clock is coming from its head. Because of the tremors, the corpse's head was shaking slightly.

I tiptoed up the torch and approached the corpse's gaping mouth, and I could see the alarm clock in its mouth.

"Neuropathy." I swallowed. I was really scared now. It's weird.

The alarm clock kept ringing, and slowly quieted down again, and after about a few minutes, far away, the sound of the alarm clock came out again, this time far away from me so it was very slight. It seems that all the way through the forest, there are alarm clocks, calling the whole forest to wake up.

This kind of alarm clock is going to start a clockwork, could it be that someone is constantly patrolling the forest and fastening the alarm clock clockwork in the mouths of these corpses on time? Day in and day out, that's not your average perversion.

I tried to contain the idea of running away and forced myself to calm down.

Figure out what's going on first? I said to myself.

Climbing up the tree, covered in a cold sweat, he approached the rope from which the corpse was hanging. I looked at the rope, which was one of several strands of a climbing rope, and the ends were wrapped with metal pieces like shoelaces to prevent the threads from blooming. There are also some more neutral patterns on the metal sheet wrapped around the thread, I don't know if it is a Western or Eastern decoration. The tied knots are beautifully played.

This is Su Gan's, I have a strong intuition in my heart, that person is an obsessive-compulsive disorder and very particular, this rope is not something that ordinary people can pick out. If only I had to use a nylon rope.

The person who hanged himself before also used this kind of rope.

It was beginning to light slightly, and the sun was rising early, and I began to grow bold, and cut the rope that had fallen off with my knife.

The corpse did not become brittle, falling to the ground like foam. I went down and pulled the alarm clock out of its mouth.

The alarm clock shows the time at 2 a.m. I absolutely knew it couldn't have been two o'clock in the morning, it should have been around 4 o'clock now, the eve of dawn, it's very early in the morning.

What does it mean that the alarm clock is at the wrong time?

A lot of Sue's words started to spin in my head, and I remembered that when he first started, he kept asking me the time. I realized that everything I had been through was metaphorical, but I couldn't find the connection.

At this time, I noticed that behind the alarm clock, there was a Polaroid photo.

I tore it off and looked closely, the photo shows a person crouching with his back to the camera, checking something on the ground, although the person is holding a torch in his hand, but the light is very dim, many details are blurry, judging from the light perception of the photo, there was no flash when shooting.

I had some doubts at first, but in a trance, I realized that the crouching person in the photo was myself, and this was the back of me when I examined the first corpse a few hours earlier.

The picture was taken behind me, very close to me, but at that time, I didn't feel anyone behind me.

I pinched the picture because I was afraid that my hands would start to tremble, and my attention was often very focused on what was in front of me and I didn't pay attention to what was going on behind it. But this picture made my throat tighten, and I was surprised that someone had taken a picture of me behind my back, and then I immediately realized that my movements were very similar to those at that time, and I was also squatting now, reflexively, and my attention shifted to my back.

At that moment, I could clearly feel that something was standing behind me. Very, very close to me.