The Sensory Animals of Ston Hill

In the middle of the night, the whole manor is as quiet as a tomb.

But not everyone is sound asleep in bed.

Mr. Wilson, the confidant servant specially left by the master of Kent Manor, is writing a letter at his desk in his dressing gown.In order not to disturb the little things that come out at night, he didn't light candles. Fortunately, it's mostly sunny nights and the moonlight is bright recently, so he can keep his handwriting neat.

When he paused to consider his words, the owl that had been standing on the branch outside the window seemed to be disturbed by something, and flew away with flapping wings.

Mr. Wales twitched the corner of his mouth, and took it back before the smile fully unfolded, as if he was deeply affected by the serious temperament of the male host.

Nocturnal animals are best able to detect the whereabouts of their own kind.

Mr. Wales stood up silently, leaned against the wall and stood by the window, and looked out - a shadow elongated by the moonlight was sliding on the outer wall, deftly and cautiously.

The renovation of the villa instructed by the Earl of Arundel is not limited to the garden in front of the castle, the woods in the distance, but also the exterior of the castle.Skilled craftsmen invited from Italy carved gorgeous patterns on those single stone walls, and carved clumsy stone pillars into human shapes.

Grace didn't know that the humanoid relief carrying the balcony was called Atlas, he just felt that the shoulders of this stone Hercules were very thick, allowing him to step on it with his whole foot and rest his whole body weight on it with confidence. Go up, then let go of one hand, reach up, grab the railing of the balcony above his head, and grab the other hand up, swinging up vigorously, he curled up like a cat and jumped into the balcony.

He stooped down and took out the knife from his pocket, fiddled with the window twice, and the window opened with a "squeak".

Grace was wearing a wide nightdress, but the skirt was wrapped around her thighs with straps. At first glance, it looked like shorts worn by herdsmen in summer, which made it much easier for him to move.

Although he knew that the vile man must be sleeping like a pig at this time, he still walked on tiptoe carefully, and placed the baby-shaped cloth next to Butler Ward's pillow.

It is very different from when it was just cut. The face of this piece of fabric has been painted with crude facial features, and thin bloodstains extend from the eyes, nose and mouth; and its body is even more weird, covered by not-so-fresh The blood was soaked, and the whole thing turned crimson—this was the chicken blood that Grace got from the slaughterhouse in the backyard, and it had been soaked in warm water for a long time before it melted. It smelled more disgusting than fresh blood, strong and pungent.

Grace put the crimson baby next to the butler Ward's pillow. If you look closely, you can still see faint blood stains on the sheet.

After finishing these, he immediately returned to the window, ready to turn out as before, but the letter paper on the desk attracted his attention.

Tonight's moon is big and round, and the silvery moonlight shines on the letter paper, making the handwriting as clear as daytime.

"Dear Uncle Ward, I am writing to you alone because I have to ask you for something... The battlefield is not what mother and Alan understand, it is like a tree full of fruits, and it will be full of fruit when you pick it up. Military merit... This is a real purgatory. Countless young lives are lost every day. There was a brave soldier who was younger than Allen. He was talking to me one second, and was shot in the head the next second. My face was splashed with blood and brains..."

"...If I were to tell my mother these things, she would definitely not believe it, so I can only ask you. Although we are masters and servants in name, I have always regarded you as my friend, and you have always treated Ai Lun is more like half a father. I believe you don't want Alan to die. A mother only needs to send one of her sons to the country. One son goes to the front to shed blood for his compatriots, and one son stays Taking care of my elderly mother at home..."

"Please be sure to convince your mother that Allen is cheerful and social. Instead of taking risks on the front line, he is more suitable to be a senior officer in the garrison..."

"There is one more thing I would like to ask of you, Uncle Ward. One of my loyal subordinates died, leaving only a sick sister in his family who was left unattended. I decided to take over for this brave and loyal soldier. His duty... That's a good girl, I've seen her once, poor and uneducated, but well behaved and gentle...Mother must mind the girl's parentage, Uncle Ward, please— —”

Grace broke out in a cold sweat, put the letter back on the table with limp hands and feet, and sat weakly in the chair. He forgot where he was, and the chair wiped the floor with a long noise of "嗞——" .

"So it's you little bitch!" An angry growl came from behind.

Grace turned her head almost dizzily, and saw the butler standing behind her at some point, holding the crimson bloody baby in her hands.The anesthetic he poured into Butler Ward's teacup was from Dr. Powell, and was said to charm a cow.Butler Ward insisted on tea every afternoon.

Mr. Wales filled his quill with ink and wrote meticulously: "Miss Grace carries out her daring plans every night, but tonight seems to be a little out of luck..."