Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1511: True soul torture

Before Edgar Allan Poe quietly sneaked back into the hall down the slope, he lay on the ground like a gecko and looked down motionless for a long time. After he was sure that the tall woman was really gone, he dared to let out a breath of relief. Even though the protective words under his coat were always there, he still felt that he could only feel at ease when the other person was gone.

The woman not only took away the humanoid objects, but also took away Zhouxian. Looking down from where he was at this time, although he could only see half of the hall, the place where Zhouxian fainted after being hit by the woman's hands was right within his field of vision. It was now empty and no one was around. He pricked up his ears and listened for a long time, but there was still no sound at all in the other half of the covered hall - gone, must have gone, finally gone... He, damn, stepped on dog shit.

Edgar Allan Poe slowly climbed down the gentle slope, looking at the bare gray cement land around him, he really wanted to scold someone. For such a large valley, he had to design and adjust everything and find suitable words to finally present a scene in the style of Edgar Allan Poe; now he has to do it all over again, and cut the wood himself after the strong wind blew down the house. Cover it up, what's the difference?

It would be much easier for him to give up the visual presentation of Edgar Allan Poe's novel. Anyway, Edgar Allan Poe has not actually read Edgar Allan Poe. He has only read the first two pages of "The Fall of the House of Usher", one of which is an illustration of the House of Usher; but he knows that Edgar Allan Poe's style is higher than that of Stephen King - it is a pity that he has not read Dante's "The Divine Comedy" illustration, otherwise he would definitely have one.

While going downhill, he was lost in thought. He walked into the hall and was about to return to the door of his room, when he was suddenly startled. It turned out that the woman named Lin didn't take away the dead body - come to think of it, who would? Move a dead body?

The body of the young girl was still lying in the doorway of the room as it was when she died; she looked sideways in the direction of Edgar Allan Poe, her eyes were wide open, and she seemed to be a little expectant and excited. Forever frozen in the black pupils.

Edgar Allan Poe stayed far away, turned around twice, finally stamped his feet, strode up, grabbed the trousers of the female corpse with a few fingertips, and pulled her away from the door; he I didn't know where to throw the body, so I pulled it out more than ten meters and threw it in the middle of the hall. It's not that no one is in charge here. If a dead body is thrown out, it will be taken away soon... right? Having said that, what is the power of operations to maintain this new game release space? Is it a human being...

Edgar Allan Poe wiped the hand that had just touched the corpse's trousers on his trousers, then opened the door wide and looked inside. After he put away the words "山ridge" and other words, the place returned to a large, empty room. Although it was large, one could see all four walls at a glance. He saw that there was nothing strange, and was about to walk into the house when he suddenly heard a low rustling sound behind him.

It sounded like the sound of cloth rubbing on the ground.

Edgar Allan Poe slowly turned his head, but there was no one in the empty hall except him and the female corpse. His eyes fell on the female corpse and met her eyes. For a moment, he couldn't remember what direction the female body was facing when he just dragged her over and threw her down.

Stepping into the door, the rustling sound of cloth behind him followed him gently like a long snake in the grass. Poe's scalp exploded, and he hurriedly turned around again - just in time to see the female corpse holding her hands on the ground, her neck limp, tilting her unsupported head, as if she wanted to get up.

"Why are you trying to hurt me?" Her chin pointed straight at the ceiling, her lips didn't even part, but her voice slowly leaked out of her throat.

A scream that he couldn't even understand suddenly sounded from Poe's mouth.

He rushed into the room in a flash, and when he was about to pull the door shut with his backhand, he found that it didn't pull no matter how hard he pulled. He stood up with all his hair, turned his head, and his eyes fell on the palm-long crack in the door. Through the crack of the door, a white human face with faint corpse spots appeared, like a pale full moon gradually rising above the horizon and into his field of vision.

The hand of the female corpse was still outside the door where he could not see it, and she was probably holding the door handle tightly.

"Why?" she asked again.

She tilted her head, her eyes seemed to have fallen into the corners of her eyes, and a large bloodshot hole on the other end appeared deeply. When she made the sound, her lips, throat, and chest did not move at all. Looking down, she saw that her two feet were tilting outward in a mind-numbing manner, and she fell to the ground. .

...No one can live like this.

Edgar Allan Poe found himself sitting down at some point. "No, it's not my fault," he covered his coat with one hand, constantly reminding himself secretly that he was protected by words, and said, "It's you who didn't read the rules carefully..."

The female corpse slowly pushed a shoulder into the crack of the door~IndoMTL.com~ and seemed to be squeezing in sideways.

"I was going to remind you!" Poe shouted hurriedly, "It was Master Zhang... Master Zhang encouraged you to continue, do you remember? I was about to explain to you at that time... But, But Master Zhang has been here the longest, and I heard that the deadline is almost up, so he definitely hopes to stay a little longer..."

The female corpse stopped moving. She seemed to want to turn her head right, but with a slight movement, her head tilted to the other side like a seesaw. Poe trembled with excitement, almost biting his tongue, and asked: "You, you are not actually dead, are you? Are you...ah, I understand, is there any protection for game creators here? It's something we don't know yet... So, you died and came back to life?"

"By the deadline," the female corpse's eyes were not looking at him. Instead, she seemed to be staring only at his two feet, and her voice was vague: "By what deadline?"

Not only does it look like a zombie, it seems that even the brain and thinking have been damaged by death. Although Edgar Allan Poe was convinced that the other party was not dead now, and felt somewhat confident, he still had to muster the courage to reply: "Yes, you are new here, and you may not know many things yet. At the new game conference, the crowd is full Under the circumstances, each of our creators can only stay here for ten months at most... Only when there are fewer people, can the time limit for us to create games here be extended... until the new members are Send it in until the group is full of nine people again. So, there are those crazy people who want to keep the gap forever, so they can stay for a few more days..."