"What are you doing?" Oppenheimer was still thinking, wasn't the corridor brightly lit? Wasn't there a soldier garrison? He got up sleepily, rubbed his arms in the cold, and went down to pick up the quilt. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

As soon as he stood up, the light suddenly brightened, and suddenly he could see clearly: the strong man was holding the guard's head. He had gnawed away the guards' faces. Half of the guard's face and facial features had been eaten, and his flesh had been rolled up, but he still maintained a hideous and terrifying expression of death. And the strong man's cloth was dripping with blood, his face was full of red, very familiar, Oppenheimer remembered this face in an instant, and immediately screamed in horror: "Farragut...... Aren't you dead?"

The corpse-hungry Farragut let out a beastly roar in his throat, as if he had found something more tasty, and suddenly abandoned the leftover guards, roaring and pounced on Oppenheimer beside the bed.

Oppenheimer let out the screams of a 9-year-old girl when she was scared to pee, and suddenly she was refreshed, and her adrenaline was rushing, and she rolled on her side, dodged the pounce, and ran into the corridor on all fours, screaming: "Help!

As soon as he burst into the hallway, a strong smell of blood irritated his nostrils like mustard. The hallway lights were all extinguished, the thin moonlight sprinkled on the corpses, the elaborate wallpaper was wiped beyond recognition by blood, the dead guards sat in the corners, the blood was nearly dry, and the dead guards crawled on the ground, wriggling miserably, trying in vain to escape from hell.

Oppenheimer's pupils shrank in fright.

"Help me......" muffled breathing and faint cries for help lingered in the hallway. The cries of these lives in their dying days left Oppenheimer with only the only thing left in his mind to flee for his life, and when he woke up from a nightmare, he was liberated.

Oppenheimer struggled to close the door, but was immediately knocked open by the corpse-eating Farragut. Oppenheimer desperately held the door, and the wooden door trembled violently under the wrestling, making it difficult for Oppenheimer to fasten the deadbolt.

The sound of faint breathing lingered, and the tense wrestling was urgent. Suddenly, in the darkness deep in the corridor, there was an abrupt grinding sound of "bell bell", ringing for a while, silent for a while, the sound was unhurried, but firmly approaching, as if the claws were scratching people's eardrums.

Oppenheimer turned his head in a daze, and saw a long-dead maid, wearing a blood-stained shroud worn by a funeral, with stiff limbs and staggering steps. She dragged a logging axe in her left hand, the sharp steel back scraping against the marble floor tiles with a screeching sound. The female corpse staggered a step, scratching her eardrums with the sound of scraping, approaching step by step, even slowly, like death knocking on the door, as if it would not be long before Oppenheimer would be struck in the shoulder with a logging axe, chopping open his collarbone, his head and neck all crooked to the side, and arterial blood spurting all over the sky.

Oppenheimer was so desperate that his body was cold, and he suddenly remembered Richard's faint sigh that "justice that is buried by the living in the day is pursued by the dead at night", and he suddenly thought in horror, is this world really rewarded for good and evil, and reincarnation is not stopped?

Oppenheimer was scattered against the door, behind which seemed to be blocked by a group of hunting dogs who had been hungry for ten days, and Farragut could be heard biting the door indiscriminately.

"Oppenheimer...... You owe a debt like a sea of blood, how are you going to pay it?" Suddenly, an old and resentful voice floated slowly, and Oppenheimer, who heard it, was excited, and immediately looked around, lest he see the fleshy face: "Don't look for me! Go find those big guys! Don't come to me!"

It was pitch black at the end of the hallway, and I had no idea where Mendelssohn's ghost stood.

In his panic, he was immediately rushed open by Farragut and gnawed at him with great hunger. Oppenheimer's urine was dripping all over his trouser legs, and he screamed, turned and fled.

Then he crashed into a man's arms, and the smell of blood rushed into his nostrils, almost choking out his tears. Oppenheimer's scalp exploded and he let out a heart-rending cry: "Don't look for me! Don't blame me!"

Suddenly, Frederick's voice rang out: "You are still alive, and it is wonderful that there are still people alive...... Let's get downstairs and run...... The living dead below have been dismembered by me......" he hurriedly finished speaking, dragging Oppenheimer and running to the second floor, Farragut was like a ferocious velociraptor that couldn't stop the car when it ran over, slammed into the end of the corridor, got up hand and foot together, and rushed down the stairs again, opening his mouth to gnaw in the air, saliva splashing after the two living people.

Oppenheimer was glad to have met a fool like Frederick, who had the courage to search for and rescue the survivors in the strange and bloody murder house. He admired the courage of the stupid beep, so he accepted the leader of the stupid beep, panting and being dragged down the second floor by Frederick, and vaguely saw clearly when he was running wildly, Frederick was extremely seriously injured, a noble pajamas were soaked in blood, and he was a little lame when he ran, obviously as strong as him, and he was hit hard in the torn.

Lying in the hallway lay the long-dead guards, their weapons brutally broken, their bodies soaked in a pool of blood in a twisted position. Oppenheimer's teeth chattered, he was all too familiar with Mendelssohn's murderous methods, not only cruel and innovative, but also unrivaled in power.

Rushing to the second floor, Frederick was suddenly attracted by the hoarse cry for help. I saw the police chief Richard lying on the ground, struggling to climb to the stairwell, while raising his head and crying: "Help me......! The pistol doesn't work against ghosts......" He crawled as he crawled, dragging a zigzag red mark on the ground.

Oppenheimer knew that Frederick wanted to save people, so he immediately tugged on Frederick's sleeve and pulled him to the first floor, while reprimanding him with a fierce voice: "Saving people at this time is harming yourself! He is dead, let him go to heaven!"

"No! No, don't leave ...... "Richard watched Frederick and Oppenheimer flee with all his might, and before he could finish his shout, he let out a hoarse cry of fear, as if his lower body had been hoisted into a blender.

Oppenheimer grabbed Frederick and ran downstairs without looking back. On the second floor, the heart-rending screams of the police chief continued, and after a while, the screams were low, and the sound of teeth gnawing on raw meat and shaking their heads indiscriminately became clear.

But as soon as the two ran out of the mansion, they retreated step by step. Because the perfect lawn was suddenly full of dirt pits, and countless ragged and mud-covered waddled corpses were staggering and wandering in the bleak starlight.

Oppenheimer then remembered that some of the Mendelssohn people who were slaughtered fourteen years ago were not easy to collect and were directly discarded in mass graves, which were probably located in this area.

Oppenheimer and Frederick stood in horror in the doorway. Frederick said blankly, "Damn, I should have moved sooner." (To be continued.) )