White City Murder Expo

Butcher lay on the hospital bed, eyes closed, breathing steadily.The wet clothes on his body have been changed into hospital gowns, the eiderdown quilt is tucked under his armpits, his arms are put on the quilt, one wrist is wrapped with a bandage, and the other hand is hung with a hanging needle. There is a slight bruise around the skin.Hunter and I stood beside Butcher's bed, and the old lady in the next bed glanced here curiously.

"Thank you for the coat," I said.

"Is this about me?" Hunter asked.

We spoke almost at the same time, and he and I looked at each other, and then Hunter continued.

"You weren't there when I knocked. It was your son...Excuse me, what's his name?"

"Butcher."

"Oh, Butcher. He opened the door for me. He looked at me like," Hunter frowned, "like I'm a huge lie."

Huge lie.I didn't know what expression to make after hearing this, this kind of artist's description.Turning my head to look at Butcher's sleeping face, my heartbeat has stabilized at this time. "...how could it be," I said, "it has nothing to do with you, it's our family business. Thank you for coming to help, now I just stay here."

Hunter seemed to want to say something more.

"Let's go." I turned my head, suspecting that Butcher moved just now, probably because of my illusion.The doctor said he wouldn't wake up so soon.I told Hunter I would go to him when it was convenient. "Your clothes are still on me." I said, Hunter hesitated, and finally left.

After Hunter left, I went to the window to pay the hospital bill, went back to the ward, drew the curtains, sat on the bed, next to Butcher's feet, and stared at him for a long time.His dark hair, which resembled mine, made his skin as white as porcelain.The wound he cut on his wrist was only one knife, but it was so deep. I still remember the doctor came out of the emergency room and looked at me with reproach in his eyes.I brushed Butcher's hair away and stroked his cheek lightly, feeling a soft pain in my heart.

Butcher woke up about a quarter of an hour later.The first was the trembling of the eyelashes, he raised his eyes and looked at me, his eyes were blank and empty, tears rolled down from the corners of his eyes, and his lips fluttered.I leaned over to listen and heard him say:

"Dad, let me die."

Without saying a word, I held his hand, and gently rubbed the back of his hand with my fingertips.After a while, I said to him, "You'll never see him again, this time I promise you."

"Who?" Butcher asked.

I put down his hand, stood up, leaned over and kissed his forehead: "You need to be hospitalized for these two days, Boots."

"Where are you going, Sue?" He anxiously wanted to get up from the bed, his bandaged hand stretched out to catch my clothes, so weak, like a twig hanging on a corner of my clothes.

"I'm going home for a change of clothes, and I have some things to do," I said. "The next time I visit you, I'll bring you news you'd like to hear. Can you hold out until then?"

I took his hands off my clothes and stood where I was, waiting for his answer.After a while, Butcher nodded.He looked so frail and submissive, with blue eyes as clear as glass beads, looking at me morosely, and for a moment I saw contentment in his eyes.

**

After I got out of the hospital, I went to the pharmacy to get a needle and novocaine, but I stopped the clerk when he was about to record the bill. "Change it." I said.He nodded knowingly.We would sell Novocaine cheap to some dentists, who often have rich cases of medical malpractice overdose of narcotic drugs.I went home, changed my clothes, put the medicine and unopened syringes in one pocket, took Hunter's clothes, and knocked on the door of his house.

"You're back so soon, is Butcher alright?" He said in surprise, and then let me enter the room, "Excuse me, the room still looks like this."

"You can go home after a few days of observation." I took off my shoes and stepped into the entrance, bent down to straighten the shoes, and adjusted them twice.

"Is coffee okay?" Hunter asked behind him.I was startled, straightened up suddenly, put my hands in my pockets, and took them out again. "Uh, let's have some wine."

"You drunkard," he said, "whiskey or beer?"

"No beer."

We just sit at the table and drink.I held the cup and turned it around and around.

"You come back this time, won't you leave?"

"Yes," he said, "what, don't you welcome me?"

"Nothing," I shook my head, "I can't force you to do anything."

I raised my head and drank the wine in the glass. The warm feeling flowed from my throat to my stomach, and my anxiety was gradually calmed down.Hunter poured me another drink, added another for himself, and we took turns pouring and drinking, barely speaking or eating.When opening the second bottle of wine, Hunter's movement was obviously slow, and the screwdriver was clearly at hand, and I noticed that he looked for it blankly.

"I once had a little boy," he said, "I can't tell when it started. I couldn't stop crying every day, and then I hanged myself at home. When I saw you, I thought you were very similar to my little girl. Worry...Look." He pointed at me, and then simply reached out and wiped the corner of my eye.

Crying makes people look weak.Constant tears can be tiresome and take away the respect and thoughtfulness you should have, and tears are such a thing.It has a will of its own, and sometimes it just trickles down, displacing emotion and language.I felt very sad, at first it was just moist eyes, and then I couldn't control myself, lying on the table, buried my head in my arms, and sobbed loudly: "Something bad is about to happen, Hunter... a very bad thing... "

Warm palms pressed against my back and caressed roughly.I pushed his hand away repeatedly and yelled at him, "Get out of here, you should stay far away when you see me." He probably thought it was just crazy talk after drinking, and he didn't have any fear, avoidance, or even Jokingly said: "I see you drink all day long, but I didn't expect you to drink so badly." But he was the one who was already drunk.Hunter flipped the glass around casually, and the glass was pushed to the corner of the table, nearly smashing to the ground; he also lay on the table, turning his head to look at me, just like when he was a student lying on the table to look at the classmates in the next group.His green eyes were misty and amorous, blinking slowly.I stood up and made an excuse to go to the toilet, but he just rolled his eyes to follow my actions.

I splashed cold water on my face in the bathroom, leaned against the wall, adjusted my breathing, then took out the medicine bottle and needle tube from my pocket, stuck the needle into the bottle and drew a full tube, pushing out the excess air.I pushed open the door and poked my head out to look out. Hunter was still lying on the table in the same posture as before.Holding the needle in my right hand, I walked towards him step by step and stood behind him.Hunter turned to look at me dully, as if on premonition, while I inserted the needle under his shoulder blade and pushed in the potion.

I always remember his terrified, trembling eyes, green eyes that reflected my reflection, looking equally terrified.Hunter struggled to push me, and the needle came out with blood, but most of the novocaine in the needle was still injected subcutaneously.He leaned on the table and tried to stand up, but he was shaking because of the alcohol and the slow-acting anesthetic, and it was difficult to stand still. "Sue?" He called my name and walked towards me. Until his back slammed into the cabinet; at this moment, Hunter knelt down slowly in front of my eyes, and fell to the ground with a plop.

What I gave him was an anesthetic, not some deadly poison. I didn't want him to die so strangely that it would lead to unnecessary investigations.The details of my original plan to shoot him in the temple with his own gun and put the gun in his hand went like this: I needed to lift him up, sit on a chair, and shoot him. Then he put the gun in his hand, raised his hand to about the level of his temple, let go, and let the pistol slide freely to the ground.

There was a little problem when the plan was implemented.

First, I didn't find Hunter's gun.Just now I never thought that there would be an opportunity for him to take out the pistol to play with. To be honest, it was so stupid that it was almost impossible;

Secondly, two cases of shooting suicide in a short period of time in the small town will make people suspicious?I subscribe to many third-rate tabloids and know that the similarities between cases are the most intriguing.Being reported by the media is not what I hope for.

I am not familiar with his house. In his room, I found a suitcase with some cash and clothes in it; some books and cigarettes in the drawer of the nightstand, and the framed picture on the nightstand was Hunter. A photo with the lamb, in the photo, the lamb is still a puppy.I looked at it for a while, then took down the photo and put it in my pocket.

While doing these unimportant things, I temporarily decided to change the plan, let Hunter lie here like this for the time being, ran out the door as fast as I could, ran back to my own house, and found the fence used to fix the fence in the backyard. He took the bundle of twine back to Hunter's house.Holding the rope in one hand, I picked him up from the ground with both hands. I tried a lot of effort to drag him up to the second floor, but I was exhausted after only a few steps.I had a flash of inspiration, anyway, he is in a coma, why not put it here first, and then continue to drag it up later.So I put him in the middle of the stairs, went upstairs by myself, and pushed open the bedroom door. The beams in the bedroom are very suitable for hanging ropes. I hope to fake the illusion that he hanged himself.

I moved a chair, took off my shoes and stepped on it, tied the rope to the beam, and tied a loop at the lower end that my head could reach through.At this moment, I suddenly thought, if I find it difficult to even drag him upstairs, how can I lift him up and hang him up?

Just when I was troubled, there was a ping-pong-pong sound outside, as if something had rolled down the stairs, and there was only Hunter I put there on the stairs.

I was taken aback and almost fell down. I was eager to go out to see the situation, but my body could not be as flexible as I wanted; since I injured my leg, I have actively avoided this kind of activity that requires climbing up and down. Anxious, the more at a loss.I leaned on the back of the chair and tested the center of gravity left and right. The good leg landed on the ground first and stood firm, and then I carefully got off the chair.

I saw Hunter downstairs from the second floor, struggling to crawl towards the door, probably woke up halfway, and rolled down the stairs.I hurried down the banister to stop him, and Hunter turned to look at me, looking terrified.

I couldn't be more frightened, and when I saw him alive and moving, I couldn't help being afraid.But it has come to this point, and there is no room for redemption.I know very well that even if I fail to kill Hunter at this moment, he will never forgive me, and may even kill me on the spot with the gun I didn't find; even if I don't reach this point, I will lose Butcher at the same time and my liberty, after the trial they will pick a day to hang me.I don't want to be hanged by others.

In the final analysis, all of this is Hunter's own fault.I gave him many chances to leave, didn't I?He should have sensed the danger long ago and fled far away.In the end, I rushed forward and held him down. Although Hunter is taller than me, he has not recovered his full mental and physical strength at this time. He has been resisting and tripped me to the ground. I and him used the most primitive way like animals. Wrestling together, the fuzzy breath was so close to each other's cheeks, for some reason, I didn't see anger in his green eyes, but only a kind of near-substantial sadness.

He called my name with a voice that almost melted into the air, Suy, Suy, Su... It didn't seem like a curse or begging for mercy. At the last moment before death, I heard him say something.To be precise, his original words consisted of only one word and two mouth shapes: the tip of his tongue pressed against his upper teeth, released, and then his front teeth briefly and slightly rubbed against his lower lip.Gosh, such a word.

I leaned my back against the wall, wrapped my arms around his neck, and tightened my arms every time he exhaled. Soon, he could only exhale weakly; soon, even the exhalation stopped.I let go of my hand, and his body fell to the ground like a heavy bag, with a muffled sound.

I looked at his motionless body, his whole body was limp, only his chest was rising and falling, breathing, exhaling, exhaling, breathing.

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I wish everyone a happy Chinese Valentine's Day in advance, let's send Fox Hunter off with applause!The red-haired Hunter is my favorite character of the author. Although he has a bad temper and always says mean things, he is not really a bad person.It seems that the innocent always leave the scene early.Because I am worried that everyone will feel sad, so let me tell you in advance, there will be after-sales service after the ending, don't be afraid