White City Murder Expo

Help……

If I call for help, will someone come to my rescue?

I just watched him unzip it and pull the thing out, almost touching the tip of my nose.I smelled animal, and now I know that lingering smell of wet fur is his, the smell of someone who is getting old.I smell power.

I turned my face away, closed my eyes, neither obeyed nor resisted, silent.

"No, no, damn it..."

After waiting for a while, I heard a burst of suppressed sobs. I was feeling strange, and then I was hit on the right cheek. I fell to the ground and was completely stunned. My right eye was swollen and couldn’t be opened, and tears flowed instantly Wet half of my face.Before I could struggle to get up from the ground, this lunatic kicked my knee, and my kneecap slammed to the ground. There was no chance to resist. He beat me like crazy, and I could only hug my head and curl up in the In the end, even the screams turned into weak whimpers.

Just when I thought I was going to be beaten to death, all movements suddenly stopped.In the tinnitus, I heard the rustling of clothes, the sound of zippers being pulled up so abruptly, any wind and grass would make me hug my head tightly and tremble all over, it took me a while to realize what I was doing, huge The absurdity surged up in an instant.

Are you kidding, come on, is he just throwing his dick and kicking me like this...

My mind was completely turned into a mess, and I laughed uncontrollably. The blood foam in my mouth choked the air duct, and the saliva flowed out from the corner of my mouth. The laughter was mixed with coughing and retching.He yelled angrily, "What the hell are you laughing at?" I raised my eyes to look at him, and he took half a step back, drawing his gun and pointing it at me.

I finally remembered that I had indeed seen him, in my pharmacy.Our small town detective went round and round the drugstore shelves, took advantage of the empty space, and suddenly walked up to the checkout counter. I was reading a newspaper, and half of the paper was about horse racing. news.

"I can't sleep," he said. "Give me some medicine."

I told him there are some colored pills here, blue tonol, red sucrose, orange and yellow vitamins, take your pick.

He said he felt pain.

Well, there's aspirin too.Take ibuprofen if it's not that serious.

"No, no," he said.He explained to me in evasive tirade that he was in good health, but in unexplainable pain.I understand, this is probably a psychological problem, is your wife cheating?Of course I didn't really ask that.

I told him that taking aspirin for unreasonable heartache would also help, because there is a thing called a placebo—I'm not kidding, please make sure you don't smash my counter, it's made of glass.

"You're a doctor!" he yelled at me, "Why open a pharmacy if you can't fucking see a doctor?"

I spread the newspaper on the table, took off my glasses, and pressed a corner of the newspaper.I took the pistol out of the drawer, put it on the cabinet, and told him calmly: "If the painkillers don't work, why don't you try this."

I remember him being furious.He drew his sidearm and put the barrel against my chin, as it is now.The difference is that I was terrified then, but now I can look into his eyes and spit out a small piece of broken tooth from my mouth to the ground.Both he and I were shaking.

The room was very closed, like a sealed can, I smelled failure.

I thought of him holding his little nephew on his lap, the child staring blankly into the corner, like a puppet, at his disposal.The kid didn't look pretty at all, those brown freckles on the bridge of the nose, the protruding ears, the rash that didn't fade away on the arms, looked dirty, was short and small, looked numb, didn't seem to care about anything, didn't Who is more like a child than him.

"Are you guilty?" I asked.

He froze for a moment, grabbed my collar and lifted me up from the ground, staring at me, his cheeks puffed up, "I don't know what you're talking about." He said slowly.I felt like he was going to hit me again, and I closed my eyes tightly——

Boom.There was an unhurried knock on the door.

"Sorry, Inspector, are you all right?" was the frustrated officer's voice.

After a moment of stalemate, the inspector let go of my hand and made me fall to the ground again. I turned around and kicked over the chair. This loud noise caused an even more disturbing knock on the door.

"...Go away." The inspector bowed his head and said to me, I carefully moved aside, my ears were still buzzing, half of my cheek was swollen and painful like a pinprick, and my mouth was full of fishy smell.He put the gun back in the pouch and was about to open the door and go out.

"Can you get me a cup of coffee?" I asked.

He slammed the door and left. 10 minutes later I had a hot cup of coffee and a blanket brought in by the young frustrated officer.He also brought in a washbasin with towels floating in it. He didn't know what it meant.

"Does it hurt your eyes?" He asked, and before I could answer, he turned the damn light on, which surprised me a bit, especially when he put his index finger to his lips and made a silent motion for me.I leaned against the corner.

"Don't be afraid," he moved a chair and sat in front of me, "if you don't mind..." He leaned over, carefully stretched out his hand, and tentatively touched my swollen right eye, which was very painful.I took a deep breath and avoided his hand; he also retracted his hand as if he had been scalded, frowning, looking sorry.

He looked at me carefully, with misty and soft eyes, and I felt as if I was being watched compassionately by an icon in a church. "You've had a lot of injuries," he said. "It's pathetic."

I lowered my eyelids in embarrassment, turned my head away, he gently pinched my chin, asked me to raise my head, and wiped off the dirt on my face with a wet towel, the movements were very careful, this kind of caution was almost weird.From the first time I saw him on the way to the police station, he didn't seem to notice me at all, but now he suddenly became so gentle.In my blurred vision, his eyelashes trembled slightly, and his eyes were foggy gray. His deliberately shallow breath brushed against my skin, causing a shudder.

"You may call me Cirrian," he said, "and you?"

"..."

I didn't speak, and then he—Cillian hurt me again. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Sedes. Sue Seders," I said resignedly.

His hand obviously paused: "It's a strange name, Suy. I remember it."

I don't like strangers calling my name, so I tried to change the subject: "How long am I going to stay here?"

"Generally, you can be detained for up to two days, but if someone can come and release you on bail, it will be shorter."

I glanced at the sky outside from the corner of my eye, and my heart gradually sank.Two days, such a long time, I simply don't know what else will happen.I closed my eyes in despair, and after a while, I heard Sirian's unhurried voice: "Why don't you ask me?"

"……what?"

"If you want to contact someone, maybe I can help."

I hesitated for a moment, and rummaged through my body with difficulty, only found out a pack of cigarettes, and handed it to him.Cillian raised his eyebrows, picked out one from the inside, held it in his mouth, struck a match and lit it, took a puff, and slowly exhaled the smoke. Time seemed to freeze at this moment.After a while, he said, "Can't I be a purely nice guy?"

I didn't talk to you.

He gave me a piece of paper and a pen.I took it, still asking, "What else do you want?"

Cillian looked at me with a half-smile: "I haven't figured it out yet."

After a moment of stalemate, I picked up a pen, wrote down my home address on a piece of paper, and asked him to pass on my news to my son Butcher, who knew where the money was.

"Is he of age?" Cillian asked.

"Uh, no."

"I'm afraid it won't work. You can't just take the money with you."

After hesitating for a long time, I wrote Hunter's address to him as well.

Cillian glanced at the note, "Your handwriting is beautiful, Sue." He said.Then he folded the note in half, and then in half, and stuffed it into the front pocket of his shirt. "I'll pass it on to you."

Cillian sat here until he finished that cigarette.I don't know why, he looks so thin, and he doesn't say a word out loud, but it makes me feel unspeakably depressed.After he left, I finally breathed a sigh of relief, leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and the ringing in my ears didn't stop.Beyond the hum, my brain seemed to hear the rustling of beetles crawling on the other side of the wall.

-

The frustrated police officer with the same background board is the attack, I didn't expect it =v=