Dow and Carbon-Based Monkey Breeding Guidelines

Chapter 1007 Ligeia (Part )
At midnight, the fog in the garden became thicker. The faint white fluff looked even darker under the light, covering the main walkway paved with porphyry bricks. Looking from the study window to the main door, one could only see two hazy yellow circles vaguely emerging from the fog; they were the two chandeliers hanging at the main door, but now they looked like a pair of huge, piercing eyes hidden behind the fog.

Chadwick had been sitting in the study for more than two hours, and his legs and feet were already cold. However, he did not look for his thick trousers in the bedroom closet, wondering where the servants had taken them. He was also unwilling to wander around the house alone at night, because the house had not welcomed its owner for more than two years, and the loneliness and desolation had already penetrated into the skeleton of the building with the night dew, making it lack a breath of life. Since the house was given to the Campbells, that is, Chadwick and Gillian, by the previous owner as a wedding gift, it has always been used as their country vacation residence. They usually come in spring, when the countryside is lush and green, the scenery is beautiful, and it is most suitable for people with weak bodies to go outdoor activities; in summer and autumn, there is not much fun, because there are too many people who want to come hunting and it is too noisy, and his own business is also in the busy season.

This morning, he dropped all the work at hand and rushed here in a hurry. The house was cleaned up by the cleaning workers in a hurry, and many gardens and equipment in the house were not opened in time. He himself was confused and forgot to bring more luggage. Fortunately, the wine cellar was not empty, so he took some wine to the study to prepare it, it was hard to say whether it was for warmth or to calm the nerves.

The house was quiet, both inside and outside. The housekeeping staff had left at dusk. There was an old-fashioned clock in the living room that made a lot of noise, but it was not wound up. In the courtyard outside, the endless mist made the birds, insects and frogs dare not speak. This strange loneliness could corrode one's mind, making him more uneasy than the gloomy and noisy life in the big city. Chadwick poured himself a large glass of local light beer; he also prepared whiskey, but that was for others. He must keep his head clear tonight.

He sat in his study, looking out the window every few minutes, but he could not see the garden at all. The hollies that the old owner loved (locals still call the house "Holly House"), from their lush green leaves all year round to their gradually revealing red fruits, were all swallowed up by the silent fog, leaving only the jagged and sharp silhouettes of the branches, like ghosts lurking from the underworld. It was the end of August, the frost was just beginning to appear, and the golden wind was bleak. On rainy days in autumn, he was always prone to headaches, palpitations, and coughing.

The thick fog in the garden was slow to dissipate, as if it was under a spell of frozen time. Chadwick was upset and couldn't help but take out the cigar box from the bottom of the suitcase. He had just quit smoking for two weeks, and this time all his efforts were wasted. He twisted the cigarette between his fingers, and just as he was hesitating, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a black and twisted claw on the wall, which surprised him. He looked up and took a closer look, and it turned out that the light was just shining on the antler decoration next to the cupboard, casting its shadow on the wall.

Chadwick put down his cigar and walked to the wall where the antlers were hung, looking at them with mixed feelings. The antlers were real, taken from a once-live and majestic buck and kept in the house as souvenirs; however, the hunter who killed the buck was not Chadwick himself. He and Gillian had never pointed a gun at a living animal in their lives, and they both felt that hunting for sport as a pastime was somewhat barbaric and cruel.

Of course, the government should artificially regulate the rampant species, but... Alas, a person of high birth, talent and education has been enjoying this since he was eight or nine years old! Thinking of a pair of tender little hands holding a hunting rifle, or using a dagger to peel off the warm and wet deer skin, and letting the deer's wide-open and misty eyes reflect the child's tender and innocent face... Chadwick stopped his unhappy imagination and recalled those happier past events: Ten years ago, during the Christmas holiday, the real owner of the "Holly House" invited them, a group of homeless friends, to spend the holiday here. At that time, the deer antlers were hung in the living room, decorated with holly branches and golden bells, looking like cheap decorations bought in the store; the white snow outside the French window made the green leaves and red fruits more beautiful and lovely, and they laughed and drank heartily in the warm room. At that time, they were young and pretentious, thinking that a bright future was in their hands, but in the blink of an eye, they were separated and it was difficult to find old friends again! What a good old time! Now it is all gone, all the light and the sound have faded.

Chadwick sighed deeply, walked back and put away his cigar. He was depressed to think that he had just turned thirty, but his health and energy had declined severely, and he could no longer enjoy life as recklessly as he did ten years ago; then he comforted himself that things were not so bad, after all, he was successful in his career, which was enough to justify his efforts in the first half of his life; he and Gillian were in harmony, had similar interests, and the flower of love was about to bear fruit. He already had most of the happiness that a person could have in his life, and was the object of envy of everyone... It was just that the email disturbed his peace.

He walked back to the table with dejected steps and continued to look out the window. The fog still did not dissipate. The driveway and the garden gate leading to the house were shrouded in white gauze, and the situation outside the house could not be seen at all. Thinking that the guests might have arrived, but their traces were hidden by the fog, he slightly opened the window and listened for any movement outside, but he could not hear even the sound of the wind. This foggy autumn night was filled with demonic energy, summoning back all the sad and resentful scenes of the past, making them appear vividly in front of Chadwick's eyes. Even though he was inclined to be an atheist - at least a skeptic, he couldn't help but feel that there seemed to be another pair of invisible eyes in the house.

The atmosphere in this house was too ominous. He drank another half glass of beer to make himself bear the hazy figure reflected on the window glass. That's your own face, Chad! He seemed to hear Gillian's smiling voice, wishing she was with him at this moment, but... No, he thought firmly, he couldn't let Gillian and her unborn child come to this place. This whole thing was too weird, and I really didn't know what would happen tonight. At such a gloomy and mysterious time tonight, in such a house filled with the Gothic atmosphere of death, the foggy whispers in the middle of the night, the devil will enter the house without scruples, and the dead can also be resurrected.

He didn't want to be tortured by his wild thoughts anymore, so he reached out and pulled up half of the curtains to block the glass that reflected his panic. The breeze came in through the gap in the window again, making the curtains sway gently like the breath of a ghost. Chadwick decided it would be best to close the window tightly. He stood up and pushed open the curtains. Just as he was about to push the lock, the phone on the table suddenly vibrated. He shuddered and vaguely caught a glimpse of the two dim lights at the door flickering.

Was it the mist pushed by the breeze that blinded his eyes? Chadwick grabbed the windowsill with both hands and ventured to lean half of his body out, determined to see what was going on. The main path of the garden was shrouded in fog, and only a dark and bare section could be seen occasionally, like a riverbed exposed during the dry season. Fortunately, the dry season of the canal this year was very short and the waterway was very smooth, so his business did not suffer too much loss, but the sea was a little uneasy...

This troubled thought almost made him forget his current situation. At this moment, the night wind suddenly tightened, and the mist in the garden suddenly flew like a ball of catkins, rolling and retreating into the bushes. Chadwick stared with his eyes wide open, and was so frightened that he almost fell out of the window. I don't know when a figure has stood on the main walkway! This strange figure, as quiet as a wandering soul, stood in front of the steps leading to the gate, as if looking at the facade of "Holly House". The head covered by the hood of the coat was slightly raised, facing Chadwick behind the study window. From this angle, he couldn't see the other person's face clearly, but only saw two cold eyes shining slightly on the dark face - what a hell! The eyes of mortals, even the eyes of peerless talents, even if they are burning with the hot flames of passion and ambition, and overflowing with the brilliant spirit of outstanding wisdom, how can they really emit light in the dark night!
He stared at the figure like a wooden sculpture, until the other party raised his arm and waved it gently at him. The fear that almost caused his heart to stop was slightly relieved; when he saw the hand exposed from the sleeve was wearing a heavy leather glove, the haze of uneasiness enveloped his heart again. For a moment, Chadwick even regretted that he did not follow Gillian's advice and buy a gun for self-defense. He stood stiffly in front of the window, keeping his eyes on the visitor in the garden, and stretched out his arm to touch the ceramic vase on the desk. The vase was also a gift from the previous owner of the house. There was a group of deer among the pines painted in blue and white on the vase. It was both exquisite and sturdy. There were also two handles on both sides of the neck for holding. The previous owner once joked that it was the most handy fighting weapon in the study. Oh my God! When he thought about who he was facing with the vase, Chadwick felt like he was about to faint.

The person downstairs moved forward. His gait was also very different from the old person in his memory. No! No! It was totally wrong! How could the swift and graceful steps of the past become so stiff and heavy? Where did the elegant and graceful demeanor go? Even if several years of time had worn away people, it would never be able to completely devour a will that was stronger than steel! He staggered away from the window and pushed it open. In a trance, he thought that he should go downstairs and lock the door to prevent this strange figure from invading his home. But it was too late! The door on the ground floor was open like the garden gate, originally waiting for the long-lost person to return home, but now it gave the sneaky figure an opportunity to take advantage of it. He heard footsteps coming from the room, clanging and heavy as if wearing iron armor. Chadwick pounced on the table, clumsily hugged the two-handled vase, and held it upside down like a mace.

He didn't have a chance to think of a place to hide and ambush, because someone was knocking on the door outside the study. The knocking sound was so cold and crisp, not like the fingers of a living person at all. He didn't dare to make any sound, and stared at the half-open door with bated breath. The door was slowly pushed open, revealing a bloody shadow standing in the dark corridor - could it be that this thing didn't need a light to walk up? He didn't even feel it breathing. Under the red tweed coat with a hood, it seemed that it was not a living person with a heaving chest, but a completely still dead object. At that moment, he really believed in ghosts and the underworld, believed that zombies would crawl out of their graves, or that wooden puppets and clay figures could move their eyes when no one was around at midnight.

The thing outside the door slowly stepped into the house, and its long boots covered in wet mud left stains on the carpet, proving that this person was not a wandering ghost who never touched the dust. When the person hiding under the hood finally made a sound, her low voice was extremely familiar.

"Good evening, Chad."

Chadwick lowered the vase in his hand. His lips trembled, and just as he was about to say something, his eyes became wet.

"Lee?" he whispered as if afraid to be heard. "Is it you? Really you?"

"Yes, Chad. I thought you got the email."

"You almost scared me to death just now."

The visitor turned around and looked around, taking in the current furnishings in the study. Chadwick wanted to put the vase back on the table, but he still had some doubts, so he just focused on the face under the hood. From his angle, he could only see the lower half of the face clearly. The short black hair and the round and small jaw were exactly the same as he remembered, and even whiter and plumper, with a better complexion. However, for a life with a strong will, its most unique and awe-inspiring spiritual power always comes from the eyes. He took two steps with the vase in his arms, trying to recognize the visitor's eyebrows and eyes; in order not to appear deliberate, he kept saying, "I've been waiting for several hours, and I thought it was a prank email."

"No one can use my email address to play pranks on you."

"Yes, that's right, that's usually the case... but there's Anthony after all..."

He mentioned the name carefully, trying to test the other party's reaction. As a result, the guest pretended not to hear it and asked in a casual tone: "Is Jillian okay?" "She's fine, but I haven't told her about the email you sent. If she knew, she would definitely follow, but I don't dare to take the risk because she-"

"Almost nine months, right?"

Chadwick was dumbfounded. The visitor sat down across from the desk and said with a smile, "I thought you were not planning to have children."

"Oh, no, that's not the case. We just want to save our careers first. She really cares about the movie and doesn't want to lose control of the script--"

"I've seen it," the guest said. "It's a film very much in her style."

Where did you see it? Chadwick almost couldn't help but ask her. The movie hasn't even been released yet! But this question is out of the question right now. He knows that the other party has always been very powerful.

"Lee," he slowly moved back to his seat, still holding the vase, "where have you been all these years?"

“There are so many places, I can’t name them all.”

"You haven't contacted us in years. No news at all! God, we all thought you had..."

"Thought I was dead."

6◇9◇Book◇Bar

Chadwick shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He noticed that the man across the table still had his hood up. "You should at least reply," he said, trying to be calm. "Jillian and I only heard that you were sick, and then we couldn't get any more information. Do you know how many times Gillian sighed when she mentioned you?"

"It was clear to me that my disappearance was bothering her."

"How can you know?"

"Her film, Chad! It's a work of art that speaks volumes. I can see where the climactic scene was modeled. It was the house right here. She wanted to make it Edgar Allan Poe-like, but once the story was in her hands and in her heart, the House of Usher became tinged with Holly Cottage. She couldn't forget the house, and, of course, the heroine."

The guest's endless chatter suddenly stopped, leaving only a knowing smile on his lips. Chadwick also laughed twice. "You are right... Her thoughts were completely disturbed by your matter. You destroyed her original imagination of the character, which really made her not know what to do. The character that came out in the end was completely different from what she had originally thought."

"I don't think it's that serious. She still grasped the essence of the original plan: the kind of women with death images that troubled Poe all his life. Those unfortunate women with pale skin and ethereal expressions, like Madeline, Morena, Berenice, Aphrodite, Eleonora... Poe was so obsessed with writing about the death of women, making them suffer dangers and diseases again and again, but he was deeply impressed by their struggle with death. He even brought the strongest among them back to life, Chad, we can smell fascination and fear in his writing at the same time. Especially Ligeia, who knows the secrets of the underworld! Her coldness and passion are unique among all the women. I know that Gillian is thinking of her, only her."

The guest suddenly lowered his voice and chanted in a rhythmic tone:
"The will is there, and the will never changes... He who is not defective in his will surrenders neither to angels nor to death."

Her soft voice suppressed a terrifying passion, and the low words she uttered made Chadwick shudder. When she raised her head and exposed her entire face to the lamp, the beer he had drunk earlier was like boiling poison in his stomach, and together with this nameless fear, it was almost crazy. The orderliness and agility in business in the past were all gone. The two-handled vase slipped from his trembling hands and fell to the ground with a bang, and he almost slipped off the chair. The guest still faced his loss of composure with a dignified calmness.

"Lee!" His voice was hoarse and distorted by fear. "What happened all these years? What happened to you? Your face...what happened to your face?"

The guest's face maintained a frozen and demure smile. That ethereal and mysterious expression could only be presented in portraits or sculptures for a long time. But no matter how strange the expression was, it could not be better than those eyes! Those eyes that had previously shone faintly in the darkness were now pure black under the light, so black that only the pupils were rounder and larger than those of a spotted deer; those were the two deep holes that the insane sculptor had chiseled out on the face of the statue, but forgot to embed the black gemstones for the eyes. There was no will or spirituality in those eyes, only the cold emptiness of the universe!

Chadwick was about to scream when the guest across the table suddenly leaned over and grasped his shoulders with his iron-like hands, pinning him firmly to the chair. The human limbs hidden under the gloves were so hard that they almost crushed Chadwick's shoulder blades.

"Calm down, Chad," she said slowly and softly, her voice as melodious as ever, completely at odds with the strange expression on her face. "I'll explain everything. I promised that I would come back and tell you everything when I had a clear idea of ​​what was going on. Now is about the time."

(End of this chapter)