This card game is kind of weird

Chapter 65 Sleepwalking
"this is mine?"

On Wednesday, I stretched out my hand and compared it with the half of the handprint on the quilt, and found that it was just right.

It really is his!
"Did something happen while I was asleep?"

On Wednesday, he hurriedly lifted the quilt, only to see blood splattered on his collar and cuffs, which means...when the blood spurted out, he was on the side, or...he was the one holding the knife!

Regardless of putting on his shoes, he immediately got out of bed and ran to the master bedroom.

The door was closed, but there was a bright bloodstain on the doorknob.

I made mental preparations on Wednesday, then tiptoed and opened the door...

A strong smell of blood came over the face, the room was very quiet, the curtains were drawn tightly, not a little bit of light came through.

With the light behind him, Wednesday saw the raised figure on the bed...and the hand hanging down beside the bed.

"This can't be... I did it?"

Although the duration trial is fake, the situation inside is copied from reality... If it is true that he killed men and women in his sleep, that means...

He pursed his lips, and didn't go inside on Wednesday.

He first went to the door and checked. The lock that was locked yesterday was still locked.He went to look around the window again... The situation outside was exactly the same as that day in the office, all "still" pictures that would only change at critical moments.

It is impossible for anyone to come in from outside, and there will be no one at all.

"It's really me..."

It can't be that they committed suicide, right?How about the blood donation on his hands and body?

On Wednesday, I returned to the master bedroom in silence.

The trial is not over yet, which means that he still needs to do something before he can start the second trial. After thinking about it, there should be nothing more terrifying than "witnessing the death of his parents".

He walked into the master bedroom and came to the bed.

The man and the woman hardly ever didn't argue for a moment when they were awake, but now...they were leaning close to each other lovingly, their twisted bodies were covered by the quilt, and they looked no different from ordinary couples.

Wednesday lifted the quilt with no trace of blood on the surface.

Just one glance was enough to shake my head, and I passed out.

……

[The duration trial has been started, the current count is 2]

Feeling the recovery of consciousness on Wednesday, without opening his eyes, he quietly played back the scene just now in his heart.

It disappeared a bit quickly, but enough for him to see the several stab wounds on its chest.

"Ordinary people should wake up immediately after receiving such a stab wound... It either died at the first stab, or it was in a deep coma. If I want to succeed in this trial, I must first confirm the murder weapon."

After getting out of bed on Wednesday, instead of going to the master bedroom where the noise was getting louder, he went to the kitchen.

Last time he looked almost everywhere except the kitchen where it was cooking...

Like his room, the kitchen was kept clean, and even the range hood didn't have too much greasy dirt.

"The joint efforts of both husband and wife are absolutely indispensable to keeping the home so clean... So what are they arguing about all the time? Money?"

On Wednesday, he raised his head slightly to look at the knives on the edge of the sink, and reached out on tiptoe.

No.

With the height of a child, the only way to get the knife is with the help of a chair or the like.

He suddenly thought of the small plastic chair in the room. If he could add it, his height would be enough. It didn't look heavy, and it fit well.

When he returned to the room on Wednesday, he looked around, and took the plastic chair and another small storage box that he might have used to step his feet to the door of the master bedroom.

"Don't say it anymore!"

"He shouldn't have been born!"

"You say it again?! That's my son!"

Has the content of the quarrel changed?
Will the longer the quarrel, the more content?
On Wednesday, I gently put the things on the ground, sat on the small bench and listened carefully.

"That's my son too! Do you think I think so?!"

"Do you want to give up?! Tell me! Do you want to give up!"

"I didn't! I'm also thinking of a way! Don't force me!"

"Listen to me well, if something happens to my son, I will take you down to accompany him!"

"You crazy woman!"

"..."

On Wednesday, he rubbed his chin and thought about the news revealed in the words.

No wonder the little boy would be so impressed by his parents’ quarrels. He had heard such content before.

"Judging from the word 'abandon', their son should have some kind of disease, or his personality needs to be corrected. From the perspective of 'accident'... the former is likely to be the former? Otherwise, it should be a crime."

But in a few moments, a whole speculative plot appeared in Wednesday's mind.

It can be seen that the couple really love their son, but they don't know how to express each other, and they are used to saying hurtful things, which led to this situation.

"Their son's illness...couldn't be sleepwalking?"

In the subsequent quarrel, neither the man nor the woman mentioned anything related to the disease, so it is temporarily uncertain.

The plan of action was shelved, and in its quarrel, day turned from day to night and back to night.

On Wednesday, afraid that he would fall asleep again, he quickly put the chair into the toilet and locked it, then went to the living room and curled up on the sofa.

After a while, it came out of the master bedroom.

It seemed that it didn't know what happened in the living room on Wednesday. It knocked on the door like last time, said "it's time to go to bed, baby", and then dragged its body back to the room.

A strong drowsiness surged in, and Wednesday pinched his thigh hard to stay awake.

He thought that this would prevent the last incident from happening, but he didn't expect that a few minutes later...he directly entered a state where he could not control his body!
On Wednesday, I just watched myself move a few books on the table to the kitchen, stood up to take out the fruit knife, and then opened the door of the master bedroom...

The room was full of warm breath, it was whispering inaudible dreams, he came to the bed and raised his hand...

The bed covered most of his body. He struggled to lift the quilt covering it, and then stabbed it with a knife the moment it woke up in confusion!

Hot blood spattered all over his upper body, and the whites of his eyes were quickly stained red.

There was pain in his wrist, which pierced through the flesh and bone and brought a great burden to his immature wrist, but he didn't know the pain, and he pricked his hand several times in a row before stopping.

Put the quilt back on, walk out of the room on Wednesday, close the door, put the knife back into the knife holder, and put the book back on the table... Finally, as if the target task was completed, I got into the bed and fell asleep comfortably.

He didn't know why nothing happened when he witnessed the whole process of it being killed...

Maybe everything he did was judged to be a dream, and his consciousness was also judged to be in an "unconscious" state, so that's why?

do not know.

For the rest of the day, Wednesday just stared at the ceiling with eyes open until dawn.

……

[The duration trial has been started, the current count is 3]

(End of this chapter)