Silent Crown Chapter 160: Don’t struggle
For a moment, the surface silence and tranquility were broken, and the entire Arkham Mental Hospital was plunged into turmoil and madness. (Baidu search for the fastest and most stable update of the literature network)
The alarm sounded in every corner.
There was fire everywhere, and frantic patients rushed out of the cage, raging like a tide in this dark institution full of blood.
The smell of the pungent disinfectant liquid can no longer conceal the blood hidden behind it. As the turmoil spread, screams and crying sounded from every place.
In the corridor, scared doctors and nurses were running away, but the hideous figures smashed the cage, threw them to the ground and tore them to pieces.
I don't know who knocked the lamp over, and fell to the ground. As the cloth ignited and ran in fear, it spread out, and the flames spread out of control.
First, the corpse warehouse, followed by the ward area on the basement level, and then the laboratory and special research area on the basement level.
Immediately afterwards, dozens of transformants sleeping in the petri dish also lost control. Those transformants who had been highly completed and transformed into demons went into madness, angrily culled the researchers, and left the ground all over. Bloody.
In the chaos, I don't know who wanted to open the black door of the warehouse to escape, but was torn to pieces by the bone ape race hovering outside the door. Immediately afterwards, the monsters stocking outside the door also rushed into the hospital, spreading in all directions as the chaos spread.
As soon as the sirens sounded, the vengeful spirits frantically hunted down every living creature that had participated in the transformation, and the blood everywhere they went.
In the chaos, on the third floor underground, in the guarded data room, there is a misty figure flipping through the files, searching for this rich wealth silently.
Here is a collection of records from the Arkham Mental Hospital for so many years, and notes on transforming patients into monsters. All the clinically observed cases, drug use records and dispensing methods, as well as the transformation techniques left over by the black musicians.
Just under the rummaging and plundering of that figure. The hard work of the House for so many years has been put in his bag.
To the end. After a pause, the figure's movements finally found the vital document from the secret compartment, and took it into his arms.
So far, most of the purpose of this trip has been achieved.
The man named Moriart let out a hoarse laugh, and opened the door.
Soon, he noticed the turmoil outside the door, and the screams in the mental hospital one after another when he read the memory of the deceased. After understanding the origin of all this, he fell into a long silence.
"Really worthy of being the "Vengeful Spirit", Holmes."
He sighed in surprise and regret:
"——It’s a shame to kill you when I didn’t meet for the first time."
Soon, he stopped staying, like a non-existent ghost, walking through the chaotic ward and corridor, into the darker depths.
There, the ether is brewing frantic fluctuations.
The blood sacrifice is about to reach the most*!
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"The basement level is out of control!"
"The sixth laboratory lost news!"
"Sir. The detained modified body broke through the gate and rushed into the second operating room..."
"The black gate has been broken! Holmes is about to enter the central authority! Our manpower can no longer stop it!"
"Crazy! Everyone is crazy!" The insane subordinate exclaimed: "All dead! Dead!"
"Come on, drag him out for me! Drag out!"
Alberto growled angrily. But his eyes were uncontrollable panic and dazed: What is going on? Why did it become like this in an instant?
Why is the situation so inexplicably out of control? !
"Where are our musicians? Where did they go?!"
He forgot the news of the death that had been coming in succession just now, and screamed: "Where's Yellowfoot? Isn't Yellowfoot in the third laboratory? Where did he go? Let him go and put those scraps away. Ah!"
"Sir, sir..."
Staggering underground belongs to pushing the door in, looking terrified: "We don't have time, someone is about to rush over..."
Alberto's scream stopped abruptly, as if suffocated. He had never felt fear so close, across the door. He could almost hear those gradual footsteps.
"Close the gate! Seal the corridor..."
He clung to the guard beside him tightly, as if crazy. Screamed in surprise: "What are you doing in a daze, go!"
The subordinate pressed the dark button on the wall in his instructions. There was a loud noise outside the corridor after the door of the room. The isolated gate fell, completely sealing the only entrance.
Alberto is not the kind of person who puts himself in a desperate situation. A person with a long-term vision should always prepare a way for himself.
Including now.
There are so many luxurious offices and rooms in the Arkham Mental Hospital, but he only chose this one because there is a secret way to escape!
"Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up..."
He kept urging, let his subordinate push his wheelchair, walk into the secret door, and walk along the mezzanine of the cold and wet wall.
At this time, he can no longer take care of Lorenzo, who is still in front of him, anyway, Lorenzo has two younger brothers, and he will definitely be more promising than Lorenzo when he grows up in the future.
As he was advancing fast, he was panting for lingering fears, and he couldn't help but smile fortunately. But soon, that smile stiffened.
Just in front of the narrow passage, at the only exit, stood quietly a burly figure that almost filled the passage.
It seems that I have been waiting here for a long time, and when I noticed that he was approaching, the shattered horse-head mask on his face showed a hideous smile.
"Butcher, butcher?"
Alberto exclaimed and shook his head vigorously: "Impossible, the yellow feet have already killed you..."
"Yellowfoot?"
The butcher laughed and said that a spherical object was thrown into his arms: "Are you talking about the black musician?"
Alberto lowered his head dullly and looked into his arms-there was an insect-like head with six compound eyes.
After starting, it was like holding an iron ball, heavy, with no trace of blood, but the original distorted face could be vaguely seen on the torn face.
"——I have never seen such a weak black musician."
In the shining light of the trembling fire, the charred, bare-boned butcher twisted his neck and made a crackling sound.
On his eroded chest, behind the pale ribs, his huge heart beats slowly and firmly.
Behind the barrier of the ribs, an eye slowly opened in the dark purple heart that was not like a human, and he glanced at Alberto coldly, then closed it without interest, and fell asleep.
"Ah!!!"
Behind Alberto, the man pushing the wheelchair could no longer bear the weird gaze, collapsed completely, screaming and turning around to escape.
Immediately afterwards, a huge bone saw that broke through the air was pierced, taken up, and finally nailed high on the wall.
"It's your turn next."
The butcher came forward.
Alberto screamed and hurriedly turned his wheelchair backwards, trying to escape. The wheelchair overturned in the chaos. He fell to the ground and quickly got up again, crawling out backwards with both hands and feet.
Under the haze of death, his speed is so fast, like a worm wriggling on the ground, fleeing toward the road when he came.
The butcher followed him step by step, and when he passed the nailed corpse, he pulled out the bone saw and put it back on his back.
Even if he tried to slow down, Alberto was still caught up, in the extremely safe cabin he once had.
It's still so quiet and peaceful here.
The pine wood is burning in the fireplace, exuding a delicate fragrance, which makes people feel at ease. But Alberto fled here and stopped, not because of the warmth, but because of despair.
The only exit in the room has been blocked by his orders.
He was crying desperately, crawling all over the floor, avoiding the huge figure, but was stepped on the ground by the butcher, talking nonsense in his mouth.
For example, I still have my family. For example, I can make a lot of money with you. For example, the old shaman is outdated. Come with me to join the council. If you are so strong, you will definitely get a higher position than me. .
Or, recall the past and ask him if he still remembers himself, I used to hire you, we worked together so happily...
"Don't struggle."
The butcher interrupted him.
"Huh?" He was stunned.
"I said, don't struggle." The butcher said softly, "It will make me very troublesome and useless."
He lifted Alberto with one hand, pinched his throat with his fingers, and slowly tightened, his voice indifferent and stable: "The employer's original words are: You are a member of the Xiacheng District after all, try to save you The whole body. So, you can't die very happy, I'm so sorry."
"Sa, Shaman..."
Alberto struggled to squeeze the last syllable from his throat~IndoMTL.com~ scratching the butcher's palm and mask hard, struggling painfully in the long suffocation.
His pupils closed, and his body twitched and stopped moving.
But the butcher still maintained his original posture. One second, two seconds, and three seconds passed. The body that was still still convulsed suddenly, and his closed eyes opened angrily, glaring at the assassin in front of him. Kick him as hard as he can.
Until the end, that face rose to bruise, and after a sudden twitch, it was completely stiff.
After a long torture and hard work, death finally arrived.
On the deadly spiteful face, the flames burning outside the window are reflected in the pupils of the eyes.
He was the first. (To be continued)
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