White City Murder Expo

"It's a pity..." I said.

Witnessing the horrors of the Hunter family will know that there is more than sorry to say.I can't really empathize with his loss and pain, even with casual politeness.Hunter's house was in a mess. He said that he clearly remembered to turn off the alcohol lamp before going upstairs, but last night, the lamp on the table was dumped, igniting the drawing paper, curtains, sofa, and burning from the first floor to the second floor.

He didn't have many paintings at home, and they were all his proud works that he was reluctant to sell; now most of them have been reduced to ashes, or only the blackened frames are left.When I saw Hunter the next day, he looked astonishingly tired, with bruised eyes and hyperactive, perhaps because he was feeling anxious—he was walking up and down, talking at length about his those paintings.I listened with a vague sense of horror, because none of the paintings he was pointing to seemed to me any different, art that had been destroyed, even when explained.

Later we talked about where we were going in the future, and it took a lot of money to repair the house.I said to him: "You have lost a lot of important things here, and there will be many moments in the future that you will suddenly remember. Change places."

Of course there is my selfishness in it, but it is for his consideration.Butcher had killed his dog and tried to set fire to his murder, and though he failed this time, he didn't know what would happen next time.Of course I can't tell him this, it would be nice if he could leave by himself.

Hunter fell silent after hearing this.Of course, he couldn't agree to it straight away. We have been neighbors for so many years, and he is probably used to this place.

I told him about my ex-wife, Matilda, who left me for New York.The house belonged to the two of us, but it only belonged to me; after all these years, sometimes I still feel inexplicable pain when I see the things she used.

"Do you still think of her when you're with me?" he joked.Only then did I realize that Hunter and I were sitting very close, almost touching, and that he was looking at me, or staring at me.I don't like being looked at like that.The longer I stare, the easier it is to see blemishes, and I feel like I can't stand the scrutiny.

"Are you fat?" He asked suddenly.Because Hunter had been looking at my face just now, I touched it subconsciously, which made me a little embarrassed.Is it really?I'm fat, after so many things that should be emaciated?As soon as the words were finished, Hunter reached out and touched my stomach without saying hello. I was shocked and slapped his hand away angrily; as a result, he stretched out his other hand, this time poked me, and said A sneer.What a problem!I was about to scold him, but he came up to me and kissed me.This series of actions made people dizzy.

"You are fatter, a little fatter." He said firmly, but his hands touched my body.

"I'm not as young as you, and of course I'm not...not pretty," I said, pulling him off me. "In that case, you'd better go find someone else."

"What are you talking about," he glanced at me. "You were a drunken drunk when I first met you. It's hard to imagine you being uglier or better looking."

He kissed me again, and again and again, stamping his own stamp everywhere, as if to confirm something.When he said that, I felt that I was just a stopgap measure for him, a backup option, and it was not very promising.But he's a lot more pathetic now than I am anyway, and Hunter reacts, as I straddle his lap.He's lusting after a jerk who's indirectly hurt him multiple times.

"Come on, sit on my lap." He supported my waist, fingers slightly sunken into the skin.Maybe I'm really fat. Thinking of this, I suddenly became anxious, with a sense of crisis that I was about to be ridiculed and abandoned.The worry leaked out in his sweaty breath.

Hunter's response was to whisper in my ear, "If you don't want people to dislike you, just work harder."

I whimpered in shame.Hunter grabbed my hair and pressed my head against his shoulder like a reluctant hug.He kept pecking at the pinnas of my ears, my cheekbones, the corners of my eyes, without slowing down at all, and just suddenly said in a soft voice, "That's not true, Sue."

"……what?"

"You are a soft animal," he said. "You look pitiful and vulnerable when you cry. But it's best not to show that expression again. People will only want to hurt you more."

"Only you think that because you're an asshole," I said.

"Change the position," he slowly pulled it out, "The bastard wants to use the back position."

Hunter's style was rough and barely within measure. I knelt on the ground, the knee on the injured side was aching, but I was choked up when I spoke, and I couldn't even utter a complete sentence when I called for a stop.

"Stop-stop-stop!" I said, "My knee hurts."

He suddenly remembered something and pulled me up. "Oh, sorry. Let's change positions then."

**

There was the sound of a shower in the bathroom, and I was lying on my side on the bed smoking, feeling very complicated.After a while, the sound of water stopped.The door opened.The mattress wobbled a bit, and I turned my head. Hunter hung the towel around his neck, sat on the edge of the bed, looked at me, and held out his hand for a cigarette.I handed him the cigarette: "What kind of look is this, it's so disgusting."

"Why are you talking so hurtful?" he asked.He had the nerve to say such a thing.Hunter muttered silently for a while, and said to himself: "If I move away, what will happen to the lamb?" He said and pushed me, "Maybe it just ran away and someone found it." What about it? What do you think?"

I dare not even raise my eyes to look at him.

"I'm not moving. If someone finds the dog but can't find you, I'll go out and get the lamb back and contact you."

"Oh—so I'm moving out, but you still want my contact information."

"What?" I said, getting up from the bed in a jiffy, "You have to show some face. Your worthless number is posted all over the town."

Hunter didn't answer.Maybe I upset him by mentioning the dog-finding revelation, and I kind of regret it and don't know what to do.

"Maybe it's time to go home and see. Did I tell you? I have an older brother about your age. Ah, Sue, how old are you?"

"Go home, do you mean back to England?"

"Ireland," he corrected.

"Well, Ireland," I said, "it's so far away, but it's good to be home. I don't even have a home to go back to. My brothers and sisters live their lives."

"You haven't answered my other question, Sue."

"Does that matter? I'm old compared to you. Come to think of it, my son looks almost your age."

"Oh, speaking of your son..."

"Don't mention him," I interrupted the conversation, "let's talk about something else."

Hunter thought for a while, and talked about raising dogs in detail.He seemed certain that someone would find the lamb, come to the door, find him gone, and send the lamb to my house.He seemed to expect me to suddenly become a dog expert and keep his golden retriever smooth until he came back to pick him up.Speaking of getting up, he put out his cigarette casually, jumped out of bed to find paper and a pen, and listed some "most important precautions", at least ten points, and more and more.

"Take a bath once a week, wipe the paws with a wet towel after walking the dog" he wrote, but I read "I miss it very much"; "It will stand up, be careful that it steals the food on the stove", I read " I'm very lonely".I watched him write faster and faster, and his handwriting became more and more scribbled, gradually covering the whole side of the paper, and I dared not and was not willing to interrupt him.

This is so sad.The only good thing is that he really will leave.I accompanied him to buy a boat ticket, and after my suggestion, he chose the one that departed on Wednesday.Because of the fire, he had nothing left to pack.

"Will you come to see me off tomorrow?" Hunter turned to me and asked.

"I will." I said.

When I got home, I told Butcher about it, omitting of course the part about me seeing Hunter off.

"Does that mean he won't come back once he's gone?" he asked.

"I can't guarantee it for you," I said, "but it's pretty much the same."

I thought Butcher would be happy to hear that, but it seems like he just got it.I thought he was still mad at me, but when I went to bed at night, I lifted the covers to find Butcher in my bed with a pillow in his arms.

"You can't always be like this, you're not as big as you were when you were a kid," I said.I also know he won't get up just by saying that.With his back to me, Butcher let out a muffled laugh.

On Wednesday morning, I took Hunter to the port, and I saw him carry the box up the gangway, the ship opened, and the crowd flooded onto the deck, including him, waving his hat to me on the shore.I stood there and watched the ship drift away until the figure on it could no longer be seen clearly.

……

It has been more than a week since Hunter left.

At first, Butcher didn't quite believe that Hunter had just left, and it took two days to finally accept the reality.I don't know if it's my psychology, but recently I always feel that he doesn't look as annoying as before, and I can love him again.

One day I sat in the store, flipping through the newspaper boredly, looking up at the wall clock from time to time, counting the time when the clerk came back to take over.The bell at the door rang, and a drunk man came in reeking of alcohol and asked me, "Doctor, what medicine is good for a headache?"

I glanced at him over my glasses and said, "It's better to drink less alcohol during the day." I ended up prescribing him ibuprofen.

When I came home in the evening, there was a man with shaggy red hair sitting on my front steps.I squinted my eyes for a while, and hurried over, it turned out to be Hunter!He also saw me and stood up from the steps: "So you really have a job, Sue."

I covered my face and asked, "What's the matter with you?"

"……what?"

Hunter told me he jumped off the ship and took the train back to Chicago.So he turned into the dusty look I see now. He said that he saw a drunk man on the train. His fellow travelers said that the drunk man owned a businessman with more than a dozen factories, but he was still suffering every day. .He said he thought of me when he saw that man.All his words became a humming roar in his head.

"I don't understand," I said, "why did you come back?"

"Don't you think that at all, Sue Seides?" he said, looking a little annoyed, and took his hat off his head and squeezed it in his hands. "What the hell is going on with you today?"

I'm not going to tell him my son is jealous of him and wants his life, I'm not going to say that.My mind was confused for a while, and I felt that everything was too complicated and there was no way to explain it. I was dumb for a while, so I had to say to him half-coaxed and half-perfunctorily: "Some things happened in my family recently... It's hard to say, it's too confusing. You go back first, Okay? Find a hotel if you can’t live at home, let’s go, I beg you.”

"What? Hello!..."

After barely chasing Hunter away, I walked in the house exhausted.Slowly, he took off his coat, trying to throw it into the laundry basket.The bathroom door was closed, and there was the sound of a shower. I knocked on the door: "Butcher, I'll come in and put some clothes on." The sound of water didn't stop, and there was no response.

Feeling a little uneasy for some reason, I turned the doorknob, and I saw Butcher, fully dressed, sitting in a bathtub full of water, eyes closed; It overflowed, and his arm was outside the bathtub. The red blood continued to flow down, mixed with the clear water, and was quickly diluted.

I clearly saw and understood what was happening in front of me, but I stood there for a while, unable to move.The coat slipped from my arm and fell to the ground. In an instant, I suddenly came back to my senses. I rushed up, hugged Butcher out of the water, and called his name repeatedly; he was soaked in warm water, but his body was still warm. Hot, blood kept gushing from the cut on his wrist.I clamped half an inch of skin above the wound with my jaws and pinched the blood vessels. Butcher's body kept sliding and he had lost consciousness.I wanted to tie him up with a cloth strip to stop the bleeding, but as soon as I let go, the blood gushed out again.

"Help! Help me! Is there anyone..." I wailed, with tears all over my face, all the first aid knowledge I had learned had lost its due effect at this moment, my hands couldn't stop shaking, because of panic and dizziness, I felt a burst of pain. I felt dizzy for a while, and had trouble breathing and lung pain.I took a deep breath in despair, counted down to three, forced myself to let go of Butcher, tried to tear the cloth strips from my clothes, but couldn't make any effort. Finally, I could only take off my clothes, put my feet on the hem, and bite my teeth. He grabbed the neckline, tore open his clothes abruptly, and tied up his wound in a frantic manner.

I tried to pick him up off the ground twice, unsuccessfully, he was so much taller than me.I half dragged and half hugged him and walked out the door. My right leg couldn't use any strength, so I could only move slowly, rubbing and rubbing.My tears flow down my neckline.At this time, someone knocked on the door outside, "Sui? Are you okay?" It was Hunter.

I put Butcher down temporarily and went to open the door. As soon as Hunter entered the door, he saw Butcher lying on the ground and the blood-stained cloth on Butcher's wrist. He was shocked, "Oh my God." explain.At this time, I squatted down and grabbed Butcher's armpit, lifted his upper body, and asked Hunter to lift his legs.

"Put him in my car, I'm going to the hospital," I said, "Fuck it!"

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Every time I post an update on Changpei, I have to reduce the speed of the car, so thank you Karl (?