[Hot Night Dream] Absurd things

absurdity

The Absurd

1,

Towards evening Abner Marsh peeped out from among the low bushes and looked around.A squirrel sprinted across the forest path, stepped on the dark red puddle made by the horse's hooves, and disappeared on the beech on the other side.Marsh struggled to his feet, trying to step over the half-bent tier of vegetation he had crushed.His big belly and poorly tailored jacket made the move a little more difficult. "Aiyo." He muttered annoyedly, and managed to stand firmly in the mud, then bent down to remove the cockleburs from his leather boots and trouser legs.

"Need help?" A voice rang out from the top of his head.

Marsh almost jumped up in fright. He straightened up quickly and turned his head away.Behind him stood a young man in his twenties, only a little shorter than he was, with thin, pale cheeks hidden in the shadow of a black leather wide-brimmed hat (I had a hat that was nearly as nice, Marsh thought. ), Marsh would have regarded him as a head of white hair had it not been for the extinguishing red glow that set off his strands of blond hair so brilliantly.But Marsh bet he never heard the man approaching.

"No, no need. I'm fine." He wiped his bloodstained hands on the corner of his clothes and put them in his pockets. "It's just a flesh wound. Just fell down. It's no big deal."

The man frowned slightly, and his two cold eyes tracked Abner Marsh's hand like hounds.It was then that Marsh saw his eyes--gray and fierce.Obsidian-like dots on the snow-like skin.This reminded him of the years when he lived on the edge of the mine, and the boys eager to show off their youth often ran to the deepest part of the cave.There is a kind of fluorite, which always shines darkly like this in the dark underground world.

The stranger finally turned his attention elsewhere. "But your horse doesn't look very good." He walked to the corpse with light steps, carefully avoiding the spreading pool of blood with the tip of his shoe, and looked at it for a few seconds.

"It's dead," he concluded.

"Yes. Of course." Marsh replied grimly, and walked over to look at the body with him.On the chestnut fur of the horse was a bloody cut, which seemed to be torn open by claws, revealing a large red and black belly.Its neck was tied to the carriage, its front legs were awkwardly upright, and its hind legs were half-kneeling.

"They did it." Marsh gritted his teeth. "They hit me. I fell off the wagon and rolled into the bushes, and they killed my horse. Bloody beast."

"Do they come out before sunset too?"

"Of course... maybe sometimes."

The young man wrapped himself in a long black coat, and the sun had almost disappeared, so that he became one with the darkness.

"I'm sorry, sir..."

"Marsh. Abner Marsh." Marsh reached out to shake his hand. "Just call me Abner."

"Okay, Abner. My name is Josh Anton York, and my friends will call me Josh." His voice was soft and courteous, and Marsh couldn't help wondering if he was some nobleman from the other side of the Atlantic, or Is a shrewd businessman.His hands were very strong, but they felt a little chilly through a layer of glove leather.

Marsh had to squeeze back hard.

"If it were me, I wouldn't choose to walk through the forest at night. Let alone hike," Josh York said. "But I think we all have valid reasons for having to travel at night."

He was right. "Then what is your suggestion?"

"I know this neighborhood very well. If we take a horse-drawn carriage, we can get to a lumber mill by five o'clock. There is a short-cut road. It's only half an hour from St. Louis. But unfortunately, the axle of my wagon broke. There it is. Look—it's there."

2,

Josh's horse was harnessed to Marsh's boxcar.The reins were in Josh's hand, and Marsh sat beside him.They left the horse's body where it was so that the smell of blood could cover their tracks after nightfall.

Abner Marsh was not used to walking with strangers.Especially after experiencing the horrible accident just now, fear has been hanging over his head like a crumbling guillotine.He squinted at the handsome young man beside him, secretly guessing what the other party might be: he seemed to be a businessman, but judging from the pale and delicate skin, he shouldn't be in the triangular trade.It's not like the group of arrogant and rude Mr. Cleo, who don't have the slightest French accent when they speak.More likely a musician or a painter, those hands that are always hidden under the gloves must not be able to do rough work.At this time, Josh swung his whip twice, and the horse neighed and accelerated.

Could it be one of "them"?

"You don't look like a river dweller, do you?" Marsh casts an honest look. "No offense, just curious. You know, we've got to get through the night together, and if we don't know each other that's too regretful."

The air was silent for about four seconds as the hooves and wheels rolled over the wet dirt.

"I was born in France, in the Pyrenees countryside." York stared intently at the road, the oil lamp hanging on the roof of the carriage cast a bright yellow halo on his face, "My father is a local nobleman, But he left us very early. I came to North America when I was four years old and lived with my aunt. Right in St. Louis, where we were going. She had a piece of land there, and a small theater. I was in London studied law, and has been working in a law firm in Concord since then, and only recently returned to the Mississippi River." Then he smiled and gave Marsh a sideways look. "Is this what you want to know? You should know, Abner, St. Louis didn't have that creature when I first came here. But it's a good habit to be vigilant."

God damn it, he saw it.Abner Marsh's heart tightened, and he suddenly felt that he looked like a delusional patient with a small belly.But Josh didn't make it too clear, maybe he wanted to give him a step down, or maybe he was just trying to avoid lying.They had exchanged names only half an hour ago, and it was natural to be instinctively wary of each other—you can never trust anyone in times of blood fear.And they're always everywhere, they could have been anyone.

Marsh was going to introduce himself first.Thanks to York's self-disclosure background, he has to give more details than any previous self-introduction, and a little bit of it will be a lie.But it didn't hurt, Marsh thought, everyone lied when they were insecure, even though he wasn't good at it.

"I didn't mean that, really." He scratched his scalp, only to find a leaf or two still tangled between his hair, "I'm a native American, and the Pfeiffer River is pretty much mine." All. I didn't see my parents very much, but I've heard they were unfortunate people. I grew up with the port boys, first as a fireman on a ship, then as a helmsman, and for a living A few years in the army - it was a 'horrible' time."

"It's hard life on the river." York sighed softly.

"Nearly killed me," Marsh quickly echoed, "though I'm not so quick-witted, but luck is not bad. Do some cloth business now, at least make enough money for a few years." ."

"That's fine, Abner," Josh said gently.

He urged the horse to pick up speed again.From time to time, one or two fist-sized rocks hit the wheels, and at that time, the entire carriage would be bounced high.Marsh clung to the protruding iron piece on the side of the seat. He heard the box he had placed in the car rushing, and he secretly prayed that the things inside were not broken.

"What's the rush that compelled you to travel at night?" Marsh asked.

"There's a dinner party," Josh replied. "Some friends always throw parties in St. Louis. I don't go to them very often—I don't like loud noises. But this one is so important that everyone has to go."

Abner Marsh's heart sank again.

"Hey," he choked to keep himself from screaming, "what a coincidence! I'm at the dinner too."

Josh York suddenly turned his head, and quickly sized him up with a wandering gaze.Marsh knew he wasn't dressed properly, the dark blue coat was worn and faded; the overly brightly colored bow tie and the wrinkled creases in the collar of his shirt made him look like a clown rather than about to attend banquet people.If it was a warm season, he might not be so embarrassed.He left the lodgings in such haste that he forgot to take his walnut cane, and what was worse, he forgot to put on his handsome top hat.

But that didn't seem to be what York noticed.His eyes were soaked in the coolness of the early winter night, faintly revealing a dark atmosphere, those coal-like pupils seemed to be ignited suddenly, and then extinguished by other emotions, swaying tiny sparks.

His face became even more frighteningly white.

"Abuner." Josh took a long time to speak, almost making Marsh think he had forgotten what he was going to say, "Do you think we are going to the same place."

"Maybe." Marsh didn't know whether he should continue to feel scared or let his guard down, but either way, he was emotional now.He noticed that Josh's eyes were also shining with a sharp light that sent chills down the spine.

No one said a word for the rest of the way.

3,

They found the lumberyard at ten past five.It was pitch black, and the windows of the building had been shattered clean.Here and there are fallen tree trunks and clumps of grass, apparently untouched in a long time.

Abner Marsh suggested that the fire be lit on the side of the road away from the lumber camp, next to a small pond.He was rather worried about something rushing out of the ruins of the building, and Josh acted resigned.

Josh York took off his hat and sat down on a lying beech.Now Abner could look at his face more clearly, and those smooth and silky pale gold hair.Josh undoubtedly has a good-looking face. If he were in Boston, there would probably be many girls pestering him.Marsh is the exact opposite.His ugliness, combined with that wart on his face, could literally scare away all the opposite sex within a mile radius.

Marsh watched as York pulled out a can out of nowhere, and used twigs and damp leaves to build a simple frame over the fire.He put the cans on a rack to roast for a while, then dropped them on the floor to cool.When the aluminum iron plate was finally pulled away, Marsh smelled a rush of aroma, like the smell of spam and fennel beans stewed together in tomato sauce.His stomach was the first to sigh for him.

"My God, I haven't eaten in almost ten years." Marsh was a little embarrassed.

Josh smiled without malice, his eyes narrowed like a cat's: "I can share half of you."

Marsh took the can, which was still somewhat hot, and had to put it on the tree trunk immediately (he realized one of the reasons why Josh Yorke always wore gloves) and he glanced inside. The red one is a paste of liquid mixed with solids, still bubbling from boiling.York handed over a silver spoon, and Marsh heard a "chuck" as he thrust it into the hideous-looking objects.Then he almost frowned and put those things in his mouth, and then he had to use all his strength to prevent his tongue from continuing to output signals to the brain.

It seems to be the smell of cooked oysters that have been stored for half a year and the rotting rat corpses, and there is a forbearing sweet and sour smell.What's worse is that they smell so attractive.Abner Marsh felt for the first time that he had been tricked by food, if it was "food" at all.

"I think it's better to smell it." He resolutely gave up and continued to spoil his taste buds.

However, Josh smiled slyly, and put the products of hell into his mouth as if nothing had happened, his every move was as elegant as if he was enjoying a meal belonging to the aristocratic class.

"Not everyone can stand this," York said, "but it fills you up, especially if you're very hungry."

His ending drifted upwards, and it sounded a little playful to Marsh.

"There are rumors of 'they' appearing a little further south from here." The subject was jerked off to the other side.

"Why bring this up all of a sudden?" Marsh felt his boots on fire, and looked down at them. "I thought you weren't interested in these things. No one was."

"Of course." York put the empty jar at his feet. "I'm usually only interested in work-related things, including this one." He was wiping the silver spoon in his hand with a clean white square. "That's A private estate, owned by a kind old gentleman. Three of his sons were found dead in the woods last week--all with their necks slit and bleeding from their bodies."

"My God... those things are beasts," Marsh sighed mournfully.

"Perhaps. But this time I don't see it that way." York's gray eyes were fixed on Sparks.This look is so "terrifying", Marsh thought, it should not be human at all.However, in the next second those two frightening gazes were directed at him, and he felt some clammy pressure pushing against his back.Josh York clenched his fists.

"There is a group of humans who aspire to be one of 'them'." York chuckled coldly. "For such an impossible goal, they do terrible things to their own kind. They drink blood and kill , bathed in the guilt that overwhelms them, and every full moon performs a terrible ritual. Surely you know, Abner, that some human beings are much more terrible than 'them'. What if we ever misunderstood how something happened ?"

"You're justifying them?" Marsh protested loudly in disbelief. "They're monsters, our enemies. No human being can be as crazy as what those things do. You're much younger than I am, you You don't know anything about the shit that happened to me." He had said similar things to many people before, but this time he found his voice trembling.He looked around, trying to make sure that nothing in the dark woods around him was crawling and preparing to attack.He suddenly thought of countless pairs of eyeballs shining in the dark, as if right behind him.

The traveling companion sitting across from the fire paused, and his eyes seemed a little more confused.Marsh's heart was about to snap together.He prayed in his heart that Josh would not go any further.

"Abuner," Josh went on, "you didn't experience what happened to me either. I often shared them with people, but no one believed them. I almost died at the hands of a few humans when I was young, but One of 'them' saved my life."

"Oh, of course. They like to protect their weaknesses." Marsh was almost sure what kind of existence Josh York was.What the other party said made him feel more and more uncomfortable, but he knew that he should appear calm and composed.

Josh’s eyes were even weirder. "Abner, I was optimistic that you and I were going the same way, now I'm a little skeptical - are we?"

"Of course, I think we are indeed on the same side. There is no doubt." Marsh deliberately elongated the last few syllables, "It's just that in some other respects, our positions may be different."

"Also." York lowered his eyes regretfully, his long eyelashes casting curved shadows on his cheeks.His voice was still calm. "But I hope we can be friends. At least your answer is different from their silence. I appreciate your decisiveness." He took off his gloves.

"No hindrance." Marsh breathed a sigh of relief, and grinned to shake the other's pale hand.However, just as his fingers touched the palm that was so cold that it was barely warm, a mournful howl suddenly came from the darkness behind him.

Then the light disappeared.Josh withdrew his hand suddenly, his back arched, and the fire that had been trampled out was under his feet.

Sloppy always brought bad luck to Abner Marsh.And only now did he realize that today was a full moon.

TBC.