Showbiz Escape

Chapter 52
As Wen Juan expected, the square mirror in the guest room was not actually a mirror, but a picture frame.

At this moment, her image reflected in the mirror is slowly becoming blurred, replaced by a gradually clearer picture.

She leaned closer to the table, carefully observed and identified.

It was a very weird picture. It showed a man dressed as an aristocrat torturing and killing slaves. The picture was bloody and cruel, which sent chills down the spine.

The man's expression was obviously ferocious. He was standing on the bloody muddy ground, stepping on the corpse of a dead slave, and was using a bowstring to tighten the throat of a slave—the slave's throat had almost been severed, and his head was limp. The soft crooked on the shoulders, the mouth is wide open in horror, the eyes are empty and hopeless.

The scene is realistic, as if you are on the scene.

Wen Zhuo leaned closer to the mirror, she narrowed her eyes slightly, and the more she looked, the more she felt that the bow in the nobleman's hand was exactly the same as the bow hanging on the wall of the guest room.

It's just that the bow in the guest room is not equipped with arrows, so...

On the corpses of the slaves in the picture, there is an arrow inserted straight into it. The material of the arrow seems to be the same as that of a curved bow. They are all made of bone and glow with a slight phosphorescence.

She seemed to realize something, and immediately turned around and took the bow from the wall, and placed it in front of the mirror.

It was probably an illusion, at that moment, she seemed to see the noble man in the picture, casting a gloomy glance at herself.

Almost at the same moment, the lights in the room dimmed, and the line of sight turned into darkness.

She took a wary step back.

The strange thing is that there was no abnormal movement in the room. About five or six seconds later, the overhead light flickered a few times and returned to normal, but it was a little dimmer than before.

... The mirror on the table disappeared together with the picture, only the bow that had just been put on it remained in place.

In the previous position, there was an extra bloody head.

A human head strangled by the bowstring, the skin and flesh were torn apart, and the eyeballs were gouged out.

The empty eye sockets of the human head were rotten and maggots, pointing directly in her direction, still maintaining the horrified expression of opening the mouth before death.

In this situation, if you were a player with poorer psychological quality, you might be scared off on the spot.

However, it's a pity that standing here is Wen Zhuo, who has studied horror movies frame by frame carefully since childhood. In the words of his best friend Tang Chunen, "A Zhuo was born not afraid of that string".

Vanity Fair games have always been bad tastes, and many times are no exceptions, and a pattern has long been formed.

So Wen Zhuo was familiar with the road, stretched out two fingers, and took out a reminder paper from the open mouth of the human head.

The reminder paper is concise and to the point, only five words:

[The left eye of the god. 】

She was pondering the meaning of these five words, when she inadvertently turned her eyes to the left, and found that the big bed next to her, which was neat just now, seemed to be tilted a little, revealing a gap about two fingers wide. Will pay attention.

She walked over, put her hands on the edge, and then with a sudden force, lifted the whole bed.

...Sure enough, the bed board was hollow, and there was a skullless skeleton lying inside, and the whole skeleton was glowing with a familiar phosphorescence.

In addition, a sharp saw and a file were placed next to the skeleton.

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Seventh floor, room 703.

All the guest rooms in this hotel are similarly decorated, but the secrets hidden inside are different.

It is true that Ye Lingchuan also saw strange pictures in the mirror in his room.

The painting depicts an ugly woman with red eyes, long black hair that drags the floor covering her whole body, only her pale and slender limbs are exposed, crawling on the ground like a spider.

She seemed to be roaring, and in front of her, there were piles of mutilated corpses of young girls in bloom, a mess.

There is a small scythe hanging on the wall of the guest room. To be more specific, it is about two feet shorter than the scythe of the god of death in the film and television drama.

Ye Lingchuan took off the sickle and held it in his hand. When he approached the mirror again, the lights in the room suddenly went out, and then the picture in the mirror changed to the terrified faces of those dead girls. Together, they frantically patted the void with their hands, as if desperately trying to escape.

He paused for two seconds, his eyes slowly moved to the upper right corner——

On the arm of one of the girls, those fine bloodstains seemed to be connected into five words:

[The head of the god. 】

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204 rooms.

Tang Chunen stood in front of the mirror holding a copper pot with a strange shape, the expression on his face could not tell whether it was disgusting or speechless.

What was drawn in the mirror was a fat man in cloth armor, all his clothes were torn by his multi-layered fat, but his mouth was still full of greasy food—especially his mouth, which almost took up the entire area. Half of the face looks like a mutated piranha.

In the boiling oil pan in front of the fat man, the source of the meat he cooked could be vaguely seen.

It looked like a dog's head half-skinned and bruised.

...Then the light was turned off and then turned on again, and the dog's head, which was almost separated from flesh and blood, was placed close to her, half of which was steaming blood and bones, with sharp canine teeth sticking out, desperate and terrifying.

I have to admit that Tang Chunen was indeed taken aback, but fortunately, she calmed down quickly and boldly re-observed the dog's head.

She finally took out a note from the dog's mouth, and the note was still written with a five-character reminder:

[Invitation from the gods. 】

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312 rooms.

Everyone was looking at strange pictures, and Jiang Zhou was no exception.

The room smelled very damp. He was holding his nose and standing in front of the mirror. He saw in the painting in the mirror an old man dressed in jewels and jewels, but with a wrinkled face like the bark of an ancient tree.

The old man was sitting in a pile of gold coins, surrounded by rare treasures and jewelry, piled up into a mountain, almost drowning him.He obviously looked like he was about to die, but he still only stared at the money. He stretched out his bone-like arms towards the silverware directly in front of him, as if he had been fascinated, and he was deeply immersed in it with full enjoyment.

Jiang Zhou lowered his head in doubt, and studied the painting for a long time, as if he had noticed something.

until the lights go out.

... He was lucky, the reality didn't frighten him at all, but there was a small glowing pebble in the original position on the table.

Yes, exactly the same as the bag full of pebbles he grabbed from the courtyard fountain.

He picked up the cobblestone and looked at it carefully, and finally recognized a line of small characters carved like rice grains on it:

[The heart of the gods. 】

For a moment, he didn't figure out what the prompt was for, and he didn't know how long he had waited, when he suddenly heard a sudden sound of footsteps outside the silent corridor.

He hesitated for a moment, and then walked towards the door lightly. After groping for a while, he found a small hole the size of a cat's eye on the door panel, just enough to peek outside.

He leaned over and brought his eyes closer to the small hole.

(End of this chapter)