Super Thrilling Live Broadcast Chapter 602: Death invitation
Chapter 602 Death Invitation
The new young man was timid, and I could clearly see his shins and shoulders shaking.
The flashlight was shaking in the hall, and the young man was in a state of high tension. He pauses for a moment every step he takes, and is very cautious, but this kind of caution is only relative to ordinary people. In my eyes, his performance is full of loopholes.
If I wanted to, I could easily approach him and launch a surprise attack.
"He shouldn't be the anchor of the show." I don't understand why these people who have nothing to do with the show game will gather here. Tonight's live broadcast is getting more and more confusing.
The young man did not find what he was looking for on the first floor, so he walked towards the second floor with a flashlight. The writer and I were hiding at the corner of the stairs at this time, and the distance between us was no more than five meters, but even if we were In this way, the "cautious" young man remained unaware of me and the writer.
I was patted on the shoulder, and the writer reached out to me: "Go out and tell him, I look different from ordinary people, so I'm afraid I'll scare him."
"You are very considerate." The two sides were getting closer and closer. In order to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings, I walked out of my hiding place slowly and whispered to the young man: "Stop! Enter."
A figure suddenly appeared in the corridor that was thought to be empty. The young man was completely unprepared, and threw the flashlight directly and yelled.
The light flickered a few times in the dark building, and then stopped at my feet. The young man was in a hurry to get the flashlight, but he didn't dare to get close. He took several steps back, leaning his back against the wall, his chest heaving , Panting heavily, it took a while to calm down.
"Don't get excited, we have no malicious intentions." My voice was not loud, and I deliberately slowed down my speech. But even so, it still scared the young man enough.
"Don't come here!" He leaned against the wall, pulled the backpack two or three times before taking it off, unzipped the zipper in a panic, took out a fruit knife from inside, held it in his hand and waved it decently. A few times.
This clumsy move made me relax my vigilance. I raised my hands, indicating that he didn't have anything in his hands: "Put down the knife, and be careful not to hurt yourself."
I picked up the flashlight and walked slowly towards the young man. His whole body was tense, holding a fruit knife, and his pupils danced with my steps.
"Take it, don't throw it away." I handed the elevator in front of the young man, who dared not look me in the face until this moment.
"You, are you not a ghost?"
"Remove that character, how can I be a ghost? You see, I still have a shadow." I tried my best to be kind.
The young man didn't dare to pick up the flashlight, and kept a certain distance from me. I even suspected that if he hadn't pushed himself into a corner, he would have escaped by now.
"Are you really not a ghost? Then why did you appear here at night? And you are wearing such a scary mask?" His voice was trembling, as if he felt that I was lying to him.
I reached out and touched my face. After wearing the mask of good and evil Shura for a long time, I got used to it. I almost forgot that I was still wearing the mask.
"I am a ghost-seeking anchor, and this mask is the effect of the show." I told the young man again what I told the writer.
"So that's how it is." He took the flashlight from me with a look of sudden realization, but he didn't put away the fruit knife: "I thought you were coerced just like me."
"Coercion?" The writer hiding behind me came out of the darkness: "Who will coerce you to this ghost place? You can't even make up nonsense."
"Who is this?" The young man couldn't help but clenched the fruit knife when he saw the writer. From his point of view, the writer's appearance was indeed a bit scary.
I coughed twice, and introduced: "This is the famous first person in horror and suspense novels——Corpse and Face."
"Corpse and face..." The young man read it a few times and shook his head: "I've never heard of it, sorry, I don't read horror novels, I'm timid, and I hate those things."
"Haven't you read Diary of Killing a Wife? You should have heard people talking about it, right?" Acting deception.
"No, don't get too close to me." The young man frowned and stared at me and the writer with an ugly expression. He suddenly pointed the knife at me and said without warning, "Take off the mask and let me see Look at your face!"
"Take off the mask? Didn't I tell you, this is all a program effect."
In order to win the trust of young people, I took off the mask casually, but what I didn't expect was that this kid suddenly took out his phone from his pocket, and pressed the shutter on me and the writer.
"I've already taken a picture of the two of you, don't even think about doing anything to me, if something happens to me, my friend will immediately bring the photo to the police!" He held the phone with great momentum.
The blood in my eyes flashed away, but my mouth said indifferently: "Are you suffering from delusional disorder?"
"Boy, I warn you, don't send out photos indiscriminately. Writers must maintain a sense of mystery. If you don't want to face a lawsuit, you'd better be honest."
Unlike me, the writer threatened directly, but the young man didn't care: "If I survive tonight, the photos will be deleted, but if something happens to me tonight, don't worry about it!"
There was a hint of hostility in the young man's words. This hostility was not aimed at anyone, but because he was too nervous and afraid, which caused too much pressure, so he resisted everyone.
The atmosphere was a bit wrong. I was afraid that the young man's yelling just now would attract other people, so I waved at the two of them: "Let's go to the ward first, it's not safe outside, and there are hidden people in the hospital."
When it comes to their own safety, the writer and the young man stopped arguing and followed me back to the first ward on the second floor.
Close the door, turn on the emergency lights, and cover the lights with a towel.
The three of us stood in three directions of the room, distrusting each other.
"There is still a long time before dawn. We may encounter some danger here. Cooperation is beneficial to everyone."
"I agree."
The writer and I stand on the same front. The young man thought for a while, then silently put away the fruit knife: "I agree too."
I looked at the young man carefully with the help of the light in the room. He was only about twenty years old, and he looked like he was going to college, but his mental state was very bad, his hair was messy, and his eyes were bloodshot.
What kind of stimulation did this kid seem to have before coming here? I looked back, put on the mask again, and then said: "My name is Xia Chi, you can call him a writer, you know the reason why the two of us are here, since it is cooperation, is it right now? Should I tell you why you are here?"
The young man hesitated for a minute or two before making up his mind to say, "My name is Chen Mo, and I'm a student of Jiangcheng Medical College."
"Jiangcheng Medical College?" I was stunned, my sixth live broadcast was held there, and I also got the **** of medicine: "I don't feel very good about that school."
The young man ignored me. The memories just now seemed to deepen his fear. He unconsciously grabbed his hair and said hoarsely: "The specific reason for my coming here starts from two days ago. Our department An old professor here fell ill in class, and my roommate and I recited it out of the anatomy room, which was fine. But when we returned to the dormitory, my roommate mysteriously took out a note, saying that it was the old professor It fell out of the pocket, like a prank by a certain student. I was curious, so I read the contents of the note with him."
After the young man finished speaking, he took out a crumpled light yellow note from the interlayer of the backpack: "Do you want to read it? I declare in advance that this is a curse."
The paper is yellow and moldy, and it seems to be from a long time ago.
The writer and I looked at each other, and we both leaned over, only to see some ugly Chinese characters written crookedly on the note, like ghostly drawn symbols.
"Your lifespan is running out. Now go to the junction of the western suburbs of Jiangcheng and Xinhu. There is an abandoned hospital called Jianghu Cancer Research Institute. I need you to help me go to the central hospital on the seventh floor of the clinic building. Take out my death certificate and birth certificate from the operating room and the morgue on the ground floor of the third ward, if you don’t go, you will bear the consequences.”