Mermaid Effect

The rain has been falling.

The whole of Kansas was as dark as hell, and the cold wind was blowing raindrops on the cold glass.The elms and poplars on both sides of the road are dancing wildly, and looking out of the window, you will feel that they are like devils in carnival.

Bright red blood flowed from a crack at the bottom of a door and mixed with the rushing rain.

Inside the Brothers Jim pit, the room smells of rust like human blood.

These smells are still fresh now, until tomorrow, after the sun comes out, the heat, blood, and corpses scattered throughout the room will fill the place with a choking stench, enough to make a new rookie The forensic doctor vomited outside the door for a while...

Rogers touched his chin with interest, thinking aimlessly.

Because he was bored, he turned on the TV, and the sweet voice of the show host came from the blurry picture, and it was another typhoon—it was another blow to Kansas, which was already in the shadow of the bombing. .

"I don't like typhoons. That's the bad thing about high-rise apartments. You'll never feel safe during a typhoon."

He said happily to the man in front of him.

Mick Brewster, who is now the only one who survived Rogers' massacre.

But two rusty screws, about one centimeter in diameter, with stubbed ends, the kind that would be used for mechanical maintenance, were in the center of Mick's two palms at this moment.

They punctured Mick's hand, spun and screwed onto a historical remnant of Brother Jim's garage, a lathe that was barely recognizable as the original.

Out of bad humor, Rogers deliberately made Mick's hands level, and his current appearance is like a parody of Jesus Christ.

The nut protruding from the palm was stained black and red with blood and muscles, and the severe pain of Mick could be seen intuitively from the excrement under his body.

The previous screams had severely damaged his vocal cords, and now the only thing he could do was to make faint breath sounds from his throat.

He did not answer Rogers' questioning.

Rogers couldn't help but sighed deeply, he stood up and came to Mick.

Mick struggled, cloudy tears streaming from his eyes, shaking and convulsing with fear—eventually causing the wounds on his hands to become even more bloody clumps.

Gazing at everything in front of him, Rogers smiled, the kind you see on the faces of kids who dismantle dragonfly wings and burn ants with matches.

"Poor little fellow."

Rogers sighed.

Mick's struggle became more desperate, and a bloody "ho ho" came out of his throat. If you identify it carefully, you may be able to hear it, it is "please kill me".

Rogers shrugged.

"Answer my question and I swear I'll set you free."

The moment his voice fell, Mick stopped all movements, and he stared at Rogers with bloodshot eyes.

"Very good..." Rogers nodded comfortably, "So, these people here, are you all? The so-called avengers... Oh, sorry I forgot, you claim to be victims. Tell me, these preparations Are there any organizations that have come together to exact revenge on Rand Sievers?"

He gave Mick some water and a stimulant, allowing him to answer questions with slight gestures like nodding.

Bright red blood gushed from Mick's ears and nose, and his eyeballs turned completely red, but he didn't even feel anything.

He told Rogers everything, including those soliciting with ulterior motives, the simple intimidation of the so-called "dead mouse" and the deception of the whole organization afterward. Such a sympathy.

However, in the next second, what he saw was Rogers turning around with a smile, and picking up a badly worn knife from the dining table.

There was even some Uncle Harry's strawberry jam left on the knife.

Mick opened his eyes in disbelief, watching Rogers stab the knife into his stomach.

As a killer, Rogers' arm strength is really good, but the table knife has been out of sharpness for too long. He tried a lot of times before stabbing the knife in. Mick let out a howl that is only possible when a livestock is slaughtered, of course Well, the howling was only for a short while, once or twice, and Mick's vocal cords were soon completely unable to make a sound due to damage.

"I'm sorry, what I said just now... was actually a lie to you."

Rogers winked at him and whispered playfully in his ear.

He cut a gash in Mick's stomach with the table knife, and blood and some of his intestines gushed out from the pressure in the abdominal cavity, but Mick would have to be tortured for a long time before he could actually die.

He was experiencing the hell of this world as a living person, and in front of him, Rogers stared at him inquiringly.

"Hey, you know what?"

The man with strawberry hair had a frightening look of nostalgia on his face.

"Your testicles taste a little gross."

He said.

Mick, who was about to collapse completely because of the pain, had a very brief lucidity at that moment. He looked at Rogers in shock, and then, the other boy's face slowly turned into another boy's face in his blurred vision. .

Next to Sievers back then, there was always a boy who was innocent and cruel like a child. 16 years ago -

"Rogers, you have to take good care of Rand, he is your younger brother."

Lena Makinson leaned coquettishly on the door frame, frowning at everything in the room.

"Sorry, Mom."

Rogers turned around, flinched, and smiled flatteringly.

"I did not do it on purpose."

He said.

"Oh, my God, look, you're scaring Rand."

Behind Lina is the noisy crowd. As a "newly moved" single mother, her humorous conversation and beauty have attracted the attention of many people in the community.And today is Lena's banquet with her friends.She was too busy to be a fairy, but the two children in the family could never give her peace of mind.

"Tick tock..."

"Tick tock..."

"Tick tock..."

……

Blood slowly trickled down the face of the third person in the room, a boy as pale and numb as a puppet.

The blood came from an invisible fragment of internal organs, and it was now on the head of young Rand Sievers.

In fact, he's now covered in bits and pieces of viscera.

On the floor in front of him, a furry animal carcass had been gutted and its guts removed.

"My God, Rogers!"

Lena looked at the blood on the ground in disgust.

"Blood-stained carpets don't smell good when it's hot..."

"We'll have new rooms and new carpet until then anyway."

Rogers said indifferently.

He stretched out his hand and put some blood in his mouth with his fingers.

"That's not the point, why did you make 'Little Monster' like this... Rand loved it!" Lina said.

The 'little monster' she referred to was the disemboweled puppy on the stall. They got it when they went to the next house.

It was still a puppy at the time, and Labradors were always cute when they were puppies-Rand, who had always been like a puppet and had no response to the outside world, tried to keep it for the first time.

He doted on the dog he named 'Little Monster' to such an extent that he was even willing to communicate with Lena and Rogers for it.

For example, in order to leave its name, Rand actually yelled the word to Lena-"Mom".

Now, however, the dog is nothing more than a stiff corpse.

"I know," Rogers twitched his lips, "but, is there a problem? Rand is closer to the 'little monster' now than ever before? Blood and internal organs are now sticking to his skin, and he can now I can feel the warmth and softness of its life, and the color of the blood is also beautiful. I almost don't know why he is always angry with me..."

"Oh, Rogers..."

Lena came over and held Rogers in her arms.

"Sometimes, people just can't understand what we're thinking. Rodgers, Rand's been around those people for so long, he's lost, he's become numb to the art of life. And we're telling him Be careful not to scare him when doing these things. Next time you can use a more gentle way..."

She said softly, then turned her head and gazed at Rand bathed in blood tenderly.

"Sorry, almost forgot about you. Rand, you know, we really, really love you."

She stretched out her hand and held Rand in her arms.

And because of this, Rand's elbow slipped out of his sleeve, and on the abnormally fair skin, there were neat and thin bloodstains cut by a razor.

Lina picked up his elbow and pressed it against her cheek.

"How beautiful, Rogers, you are a genius." She touched the scar on Rand's elbow and exclaimed.

This kind of exaggerated praise even makes people feel shy.

"Rand's skin is very soft, and that's what we've done together."

Rogers' cheeks were slightly red, and he scratched his head embarrassedly and said.

Beside the moved mother and son, Rand's eyes like glass marbles just stared at the void.

The blood trickled down from his body, one of which flowed along the hair, and slid past the corner of his eyes.

After 16 years--

"Do not--"

Rand sat up abruptly from the bed.

He covered his face, realizing again that he was crying because of the nightmare.

"Oh my god..."

He knew how stupid he was - he couldn't even remember the dreams, and yet he couldn't help crying over them.

He sobbed violently for quite a while before regaining his composure.

After this, however, a strong sense of incongruity emerges...

Something is missing.

he thinks.

The clock was ticking in the dark apartment, and it was at this moment that Rand realized where the feeling of absence was coming from.

Quiet.

Too quiet.

It seems that apart from the wind and rain outside and the clock inside, Rand is the only one left in the whole world.

"Munster?"

Rand was full of confusion.

According to many past experiences, Munster would always appear by his bedside at this time (it would appear even before Rand woke up from the nightmare), but at this moment, it did not move.