I seemed to be pulled by that voice, I was like I was drawn to the hole.

Step by step I walked towards the hole, step by step towards the darkness.

I got into the hole.

I felt an endless fear, I felt an endless despair.

But I know that there is no turning back, I can only move forward.

I walked through the hole and into a realm of black liquid, each object as if it were made of black tar.

There is no light, no sound, only dead darkness and cold silence in this world.

I can't see myself, but I can feel my presence.

My tentacles swim in the black oil, my four eyes explore in the dark, my twisted nose sniffs in the dark.

I could feel the coldness, emptiness, and loneliness of this region.

After passing through the pitch-black tar, I appeared on the back of an old man.

Underneath the old man's body was a strange six-pointed star, surrounded by strange symbols painted in black tar.

This is a strange-looking, skinny old man, with loose skin, thinning hair, and deep wrinkles on his face that seem to vividly portray the vicissitudes of time.

His eyes were sunken and bloodshot, and his pupils reflected old age and exhaustion.

His back was already rickety, as if he was under a heavier weight than the years, and that was me.

When he saw me, he prayed excitedly.

"Great God! Please give me eternal life! ”

It turned out that he was calling, and he wanted to summon the so-called gods and get eternal life.

Unfortunately, it was me who summoned him.

He prayed to me every day.

I sat on his back and watched him move forward clumbly, with a strange gait, as if he was fighting against some invisible restraint that made people's hearts ache.

His mental state was even more embarrassed, and he kept talking to himself, and he looked like a beast that had lost his mind.

He would burst out laughing, then wail in pain, as if in a terrible battle with his inner demon.

"It hurts, it hurts."

He used to shout like this, his voice was harsh and hoarse, and every cry was like an awl piercing my heart.

I tried to climb off his back and try to get back to my original world, but I failed.

I was stuck here, like a parasite, stuck on his back, unable to leave.

My powerlessness over the status quo made my mind more and more confused, and I began to resent everything, including the weird old man.

The old man was in a terrible pain, and he finally realized that I was not God, and that not only could I not give him eternal life, but I would also make him miserable.

He began to look for medical treatment, but no one could find out the cause of his illness, and his pain could not be relieved.

Then, one day, a blind man found him.

It was a thin old blind man, dressed in shabby clothes and with a pair of rag shoes on his feet.

His face was gloomy, in stark contrast to the shabby clothes on his body.

His eyes were covered in a thick white membrane, and he couldn't see anything.

When he turns to you, those hollow, white eyes, like two cold undead, are creepy.

He stepped forward slowly, holding a battered cane in both hands, each step seemed so difficult, but his expression was determined and calm.

He didn't seem to be bothered by the darkness and hardship in front of him, but found his own peace and calmness in it.

The strange old man knelt on the ground, his hands tightly grasped the corners of the blind half-fairy's clothes, tears moistened the ground, and he said bitterly: "Half-fairy, please save me!" ”

The blind half-fairy's eyes rolled under the white membrane, as if looking at something. I felt a wave of fear, and I knew he was watching me.

He raised his head, as if he had seen through everything, and he slowly spoke: "Find you and become you, otherwise, you can't go back." ”

I was stunned, my words shocked me, could he see me? Does he know that I live on the old man's back?

Banxian'er said again: "If you want to live, give me half a black goat, this is what you owe me." ”

The strange old man bowed his head and did not speak, he got up, hunched over and went to the market to buy a black goat.

It was a black goat with an inky coat, its whole body was black and shiny, only its eyes were red, and the contrast was strong, like a sharp knife, and it was terrifying to watch.

Its horns are curved and sharp, as if they can puncture anything that stands in its way.

Its eyes are innocent and ill-intentioned.

It was a pair of eyes full of despair and fear, as if they had seen through the cruelty of the world, the sinister nature of human nature, and the nothingness of life.

However, in the midst of this despair and fear, there is also a hidden ferocity and murderous intent, as if waiting for an opportunity to turn over, an opportunity to turn fear into strength.

I looked at the black goat, and looking at its eyes, I felt a deep fear.

The black goat's eyes rolled, it shook its head, and the corners of its mouth turned up as if to mock me, and the ridicule made me feel so angry and humiliated.

The black goat's whole body was wrapped in darkness, and only the bright eyes shimmered in the darkness.

There seemed to be a deep malice on its face, as if it was mocking me, a weak, helpless parasite.

My heart was filled with rage, and my tentacles began to dance wildly, like an enraged serpent, and I stretched out my tentacles to attack the black goat that was laughing at me.

"Baa ————!"

The black goat seemed to have foreseen me doing this, grinning and opening its mouth, sticking out its pink tongue like a sharp knife, and curling my tentacles into it in one roll.

I watched my antennae disappear in its mouth and watched it chew on my tentacles like a graze, unconcerned.

I could hear my tentacles being bitten off, chewed, devoured in its mouth.

The strange old man began to sharpen his knife.

His movements were extremely cautious, and the sword light in his hand flickered, with a cold and decisive atmosphere.

The knife was about a foot long, about four inches wide, and about half an inch wide, and it was black all over, only the blade part shone brightly, like a lightning bolt in the night, illuminating everything around it.

The body of the knife was carved with patterns, which were ancient and mysterious, they were colorful and detailed, like a wonderful rune, full of mystery and majesty.

The strange old man's sharpening action is steady and powerful, and every time he sharpens it, it will leave a deep knife mark on the grinding wheel.

The sound of his sharpening of his knife is like a tragic song, dull and powerful, as if telling a kind of sorrow of life and death.