dramatic death

Chapter 8. Doctors

Who sent those weird letters?

Today, Yintong has some clues.

He seldom gets along with others, and he is almost alone on weekdays. There are only a handful of people who have exchanged terminal numbers with him, let alone people who know his specific home address.

When Yintong first received the courier, he felt that something was wrong.

It's not that he didn't doubt the courier brother, it's because the kid's goals are too big.If he really had a problem, with the speed at which Christie looked at the monitor, he would have been persuaded by the courier company to return home.

A courier usually only goes through the hands of three types of people from sending to receiving, the sender, the courier, and the recipient. If the problem is not with the courier, it should be with the sender.

So maybe the mysterious sender really knew him.

Yin Tong pondered for a while, and the scope of the term "knowing him" was too large.

As we all know, Boss Yin runs his business on a small budget, and he is the only one inside and outside the dessert house, and he can at least face hundreds of students every day.Is there any impure purpose in this, is there any ulterior motive, is there any ingenuity?Yintong really doesn't know.He is a good citizen, and he can't come up with the supernatural ability of "hearing other people's thoughts". It is considered a blessing to be able to avoid a few nightmares.

He originally planned to catch big fish for a long time, and turned on the surveillance recorder in the store for a week. Unexpectedly, just as Christie left, An Qi consciously snatched the throne of the number one suspect.

This guy's eyes are too obvious, if he has no other ideas, Yin Tong will write his name upside down ten times now.

No, he can't write it now, he has to deal with the doctor in front of him first.

At 12:18 noon, after promising An Qi to go to the hospital to get medicine for his hand, Yin Tong sat in a small clinic in Central City.He looked at the doctor's face, and the doctor looked at his hands. The noodles covered in sauce swung back and forth in the plastic lunch box, and rolled down his throat along the doctor's flaming red lips covered with chili oil.

Yin Tong smiled and asked, "Is it delicious?"

The doctor licked off the oil from his mouth, and as soon as he opened his mouth, he hiccupped repeatedly.

"I'm not, hiccup, Mr. Yin, what are you doing here when you burn your hands? Look up, I'm a psychiatrist. Do you know what a psychiatrist does? Psychiatry treats the brain, not the paws." !"

"I'm socially terrified. I'm nervous when I see outsiders. And look at my pitiful appearance. Do you have the heart to let me run around looking for your little nurse who basically doesn't exist?"

"Be patient, I can bear it," the doctor wiped his mouth angrily, looked down at the red oil on the back of his hand, twisted his expression and went straight to the faucet.With his back to Yin Tong, he pressed the hand sanitizer on the sink until it rang loudly, "Social terror? Are you socially phobic? Your dessert shop is overcrowded, and you tell me you are socially phobic? What's more, you This hurts the hand, not the foot, and running two more times will at most tire your calf muscles that have been inactive for years, and it will also help your physical and mental health."

"I dare not," Yin Tong picked up the pen that the doctor threw on the table, glanced at it, pulled off the cap, and looked at the bright nib on the pen holder, "Look, I have nightmares all day long. Yes, the broken classroom in my dream was full of dead people, maybe one day in reality there will be another hallucination, and I will stab the little nurse who is the flower of your clinic."

The doctor stopped washing his hands. He watched the water flowing silently for a while, turned off the tap, and wiped his hands while pretending to be careless.

"Are you hallucinating again?"

Yin Tong shook his head: "Not yet, but you know this thing is like the little girl's aunt, it may be late, but it will never be absent."

The doctor twitched the corner of his mouth, cleaned up the takeaway boxes on the table, and sat back opposite Yintong again.

"Come on," he sighed, knocked on the double-sided light screen on the desktop, and opened Yin Tong's case, "I can't control your aunt, let's discuss my old business, such as yours. Is the mind still healthy?"

"How many nightmares have you had recently?"

"You should ask me which night I slept well," Yin Tong shrugged, "The scene in my dream has changed. The original iron box-like classroom can be opened, and there is a corridor outside the back door of the classroom."

"Well, where are you going?"

Yin Tong smiled: "I can't go anywhere. When I opened the door the night before yesterday, a student died in the corridor. When I opened the door last night, the executioner hadn't left, and he was holding the murder weapon."

"It was a small sharp knife, tempered by the setting sun. The blood of the victim was still hanging on the top of it, and a blurred portrait was reflected on the side peak."

"The dead man lay in the shadows facing the blade, bleeding all over the floor."

The doctor didn't look up, and asked with the light screen on, "Whose is that portrait?"

Yin Tong reached out and dragged his screen away, looking directly into the doctor's eyes across the table.

"I don't know," he gave a short laugh, "I can't see clearly. Maybe the executioner in my dream can come a little closer tonight. If he doesn't come rushing to kill me, I'll try to see clearly. Who is the knife showing."

The room fell into silence, the doctor looked into Yin Tong's eyes silently, he could only read some emotions of fear or panic from those dark pupils, and then realized that the patient sitting opposite him, Maybe he wasn't as calm as he appeared.

He's scared, he's really scared.

The doctor suddenly wanted to laugh.

He thought who wouldn't be afraid?For a normal person to have nightmares for two or three years in a row would have been crazy.What's more, this nightmare buy one get one free strong buy and strong sell not only tortures your nerves while sleeping, but also tosses your will when you are awake.

This is no nightmare, this is simply drugs.

You can't survive, you can't die.

He looked away, searched twice in the address book, and opened a contact interface.

"I suggest you go and take a look if you have time," the doctor zoomed in on the postcard on the light screen, and pointed to the high-definition ID photo of the contact person, "Look, my brother is an outstanding young man of the new era, with excellent character, learning and facial features Zhengzheng, it’s not bad for you to chat with him for an hour in the past, isn’t it?”

Yin Tong smiled: "I'm seeing a doctor, not a blind date. No matter how good-looking your senior brother is, he is still a member of the Academy of Sciences. If you get excited, you might hand me over to the National Laboratory."

The doctor rolled his eyes: "What are you thinking? Human experimentation is against the law."

Yin Tong shook his head: "Theft and murder are also illegal. Look at the edge of the city, where the sky is high and the emperor is far away. Isn't it still in a mess?"

The doctor wanted to say something, but was cut off by a sudden knock on the door.He straightened his clothes, and shouted loudly: "Please come in." The one who opened the door was a little nurse. Seeing someone in the consulting room, she cautiously only showed her head.

"Doctor Tong, the burn ointment you want."

The doctor let go of his strength instantly, yawned and leaned back in the chair and stretched. He was like an office worker who heard that he was on vacation, and he relaxed.

While beckoning to the little nurse, he said, "Bring it in," while looking at Yintong, rolling his eyes obviously.

He said: "Patient, why don't you stretch out your pig's trotters?"

……

Yintong received the fourth letter the next morning.

Breaking from the previous two-day routine, this time the diary is quite urgent, just like a girl who is waiting to be married, she can't wait to climb into her lover's wedding bed immediately.

With a toothbrush in his mouth and a mouthful of foam in his mouth, he signed his name in a fluttering manner, then threw the letter on the coffee table in the living room, and rushed back to the bathroom without stopping.

The morning time is always short and busy, and the hour hand will not stop just because you are handsome.One and a half hours before 9:00, Yintong finally cleaned himself up. He poured a glass of water and collapsed on the sofa, staring at the ceiling for a while, enjoying the thin winter morning sun.

He counted the seconds in his mind, and before he could count to 30, the mobile terminal on his wrist vibrated crazily.

The video call is from Miss Christie who flew across the ocean last night.

"Morning, little girl, today is a new day, are you excited and happy?"

Yintong leaned on the back of the sofa and finished reading the string of "Internet celebrity greetings" in a tone like a stick reading.However, Christie on the opposite side of the light screen didn't take this at all, and said coldly with a sullen face, "Read."

read what?

It must have read the letter.

After figuring out what the popular movie star who was almost half a day away from him was thinking about, Yin Tong couldn't help casting complicated glances at the letter on the coffee table.Something that would allow Christie to give up her sleep time monitoring and squatting must be extraordinary. Either there is a problem with the content of the letter, or there is a problem with the sender.

This judgment is a bit difficult, Yintong decided to wait and see.

He picked up the letter on the coffee table, followed the old rules, and flipped through the envelope first.

The fourth unopened letter was as unremarkable as the previous ones. On the surface of the pale envelope, only the name of the recipient "Yintong" and a hand-painted postage stamp that looked like a small animal were written.Yin Tong cut open the side of the envelope, and pulled out the letter from the narrow seal. He carefully opened it according to the creases on the paper, complaining about the sender's rudeness, and couldn't help but be amazed at what he saw. .

The owner of the diary was probably injured. The crumpled paper was covered with large ink dots and smudges, and the messy pen writing was messed up like dried blood.

He raised his eyebrows, looked at Christie across the light screen, and continued to read.

……

[March 9, overcast]

A week has passed since the violence.

Whether it was the classmate at the front desk who was stabbed by me, or the instructor who disappeared halfway, everything had already come to an end in the unanimous silence of the students.

The only thing that lasts is the violence against me.

From the night when the instructor came back, the nightmare was like a never-ending carousel, which brought cruel demons to my bed over and over again, and dragged me along a road with the three bells in the morning. The dark road. *

I don't know how I left the dormitory, I was like a demon, sending myself to the execution ground over and over again.

Send yourself under the devil's steel pipe.