White City Murder Expo

To strangers:

I don't like rain, and I even moved away from my hometown because I was afraid of rain.There are some preferences I can't understand.Do you like rain because you live close to work?

**

"Look, I said someone would get back to me," I said to Six, "you lost."

This morning, I received a postcard with a drawing of an Egyptian pyramid, a huge triangle almost golden in the setting sun, like a very warm and delicious thing.

"Well, Sue. You're always right anyway."

My sixth victim shrugged noncommittally, gathered the powder on the table together, rolled the paper in his hand into a small roll, leaned it under the left nostril, leaned it up, inhaled hard, and then coughed violently for a while, He took a long breath and fell back on the sofa.That's what he was doing while I was preparing the shot.

"Stop fucking it, get up," I said, "where's your arm?"

"Here." He raised his arm.

I injected him with morphine, the lethal dose I had been aiming for.After the injection, he pressed a cotton swab to stop the bleeding, and fell back on the sofa limply, blinking slowly.I don't like number six.Every time I see him limp, as if glued to the couch, I think of myself.

"If you want to sleep, you can sleep for a while." I said, and started to pack my things.

"Are you going now, Sue?" he asked.

"Do you want me to stay a little longer?"

"Stay with me a little longer. I don't know why, but I feel cold."

"Then hold my hand."

I reached out and he hooked lightly, let go, and squeezed again.For no reason, I thought that if a boy took his stepfather's hand for the first time, it would be like this, to test it once, and then hold it tightly and not let go.

"Remember what I said? This is normal, don't worry. If you want to sleep, close your eyes, and I will leave when you fall asleep." When you fall asleep, I will collect the body for you.

He smiled.At this time, his reaction also became dull: "Why are you so gentle, doctor?"

"Do I have one?" I said.

He closed his eyes and didn't reply.

I put the number six in the trunk and drove to Cillian's house.

"You are here again."

Cillian said helplessly, then opened the trunk - suddenly froze.

"What's wrong?" I leaned over to take a look, but I also froze in place, not knowing what expression to make.

We and Six in the trunk looked at each other.

Yes, he was awake, there was no seal on his mouth, his hands and feet were not bound, he just curled up in the trunk, his eyes were round, as if he was terrified.

"Are you, uh, going to kidnap me?" he asked tremblingly, rather uncertainly. "You know I have no money and no family, right?"

"Kidnapping..." I turned my head and looked at Cillian, "Yes. If you dare to yell or try to escape, I will kill you."

With that said, I slammed the trunk lid shut.

How did things become like this?I covered my face and leaned against the car.

"Is there something wrong?" Cillian asked.

I thought about it for a while. "It must be because this guy smokes that shit every day. Regular doses of morphine don't work for him."

"So, what should we do now?"

Good question, to be honest, I don't know either.I don't know if it's true for others, but for myself I find creatures that don't get killed right away horrible.For example, a mouse that plays dead, a salmon that twitches after chopping off its head, a beetle that is half deflated and can crawl out from under a shoe... the same is true for people, I can't kill the same person twice.

"But we can't let him go," I said with a sigh. "He'll sue us."

"……I will not."

There was a muffled sound from inside the box.

I knocked on the back cover: "What did I just say? Shut up."

Both Sirian and I fell silent.After a while, aggrieved sobbing came from my car.

It sounded really pathetic - maybe that's why I'd open the trunk again, pull him up, press a handkerchief to his face and wipe away the tears and snot; maybe that's why Cillian would let him Sit at the table with the two of us and drink freshly brewed coffee.

"Actually, you're pretty good," he said weakly. "If you let me go back, I promise not to tell anyone what happened today."

"Before that, I have a question. What's your name?" Cillian asked.

I don't agree with this behavior of asking for names.But Number Six had already said, "You can call me Andy."

"What?" I said, "Your name isn't Andy."

"My friends call me Andy."

"Where did you get your friend from?"

"...me," Andy said, covering his face and choking suddenly, "well, I really don't have any friends. I just thought that if I had friends someday, they could call me Andy. It sounds... like, like a kind of stupid name for a friend."

At this moment, Cillian's eyes were already soft.The way he looked at Andy was like the helpless eyes of a mother looking at a useless child.I feel a little sick, but really only a little.

"To tell you the truth," I said, "we were going to kill you and sell the body to the surgeon."

Andy was terrified.Cillian also hesitated to speak, glanced at me, and finally said nothing.

"So... well, you don't want to go anywhere until we figure out what to do with you."

Andy curled up like a quail.I consulted with Cillian in his presence as to where to put him.Although he was familiar with me, I couldn't bring him home, or Butcher would be frightened.What I didn't say was that if I took him to my house it might have been Butcher who killed him instead of me.

Cillian lived alone on the small farm, and it seemed that an extra person would not be a problem in this place.

"...Like, locked in the basement or something," I said.

Andy gave me a nervous look.It wasn't until Cillian said: "There are also vacant rooms on the first floor." Then he breathed a sigh of relief.

So we settled on keeping Andy at Cillian's.

"You don't have to be nice to him, though I know you probably will," I said privately to Cillian, "and maybe someday I'll come and kill him when I'm ready."

"That sounds pathetic."

"Oh, please," I said, "if we let him go, we'll be poor ones."

Then Sirian asked me to stay with me at supper, and I refused.I want to go home, I don't want to be with Andy anymore.However, at night, Andy became very anxious. When I left, I felt an erratic gaze sweeping towards me frequently.

"Will you still come to see me?" Andy asked in a low voice behind him.

My hand holding the doorknob did not turn down for a long time.

"I treat you like this, do you still want to see me?" I asked.

He hesitated for a while: "Anyway, I'm more familiar with you."

This made me feel a little uncomfortable.

"Okay, see you tomorrow." I said.

"Don't forget to bring me some, just... you know. It's not good to see me go crazy."

"Okay." I said.I kind of regret giving in to him in the first place.