Wine and Gun

It takes a lot of time to make the work meticulous, but in fact peeling off that piece of skin really doesn't require surgery for an almost eternity of time. Herstal's movements even seemed a little too skilled when it came to this matter, but in the case of the pianist, few people were really skinned, and Albarino could only guess that this person came to Westland to open the door. Law firms have criminal facts in other states before.

In the end, Herstal peeled off the entire piece of skin, and Sharp was already in a semi-conscious state. His torso looked like a piece of red, red and white raw meat, and he could hardly connect with people. Together. Albarino watched Herstal's knife tip roaming the opponent's abdomen, and he gently reminded: "If this knife goes down, he will basically die immediately."

Herstal knelt in the pool of blood and stared at the bloody flesh, and after a moment, he replied, "I know."

Then he stabbed the knife down, not deep enough to pierce the heart, but it would cause blood to flow out of the opponent's body like a spring. The body was drawn under his fingers, and Herstal pulled the knife mark all the way down, from chest to abdomen, then pulled the knife out, returned to its original position, and stabbed a second time as usual.

When he repeated this action, it was as if he was simply savoring the feeling of a knife piercing his body. There was a neat, unhesitating straightness between the knife marks, as if... like Hess Those trial cuts on Tarr's wrists, like those fresh scars under Billy's cuffs.

"Actually, in the school's bathroom." Herstal said suddenly, as if reading his mind, he learned what was in Albarino's heart.

"What?" Albarino asked.

Herstal threw the knife in his hand on the floor, and the crisp sound seemed to indicate that he was tired and planned to take the opponent's life by the last resort. He pulled a small loop of piano strings from his pocket, wrapped the indestructible wire around Sharp's neck, and began to tighten slowly and without hesitation.

Even if the other party was already in a coma, he struggled instinctively at this time, as if a fish that had been scraped and disembodied was still beating on the chopping board. Herstal stared down at him, his hands extremely steady, the piano strings digging deep into Sharp's neck, leaving the last horrific trail.

"At school," Herstal continued, "one night after that incident, I didn't come home after school and cut my wrist with a paper cutter in the school bathroom."

Now his wrists are soaked in other people's blood, and he can't see anything clearly.

"You hit yourself hard, as always." Albarino recalled the scar he saw under Herstal's cuff on the night Langdon died, and said with consideration.

"But at that time mine was still so stupid that I didn't know where the correct position of the veins was." Herstal snorted coldly.

"And then?" Albarino asked, and he really wanted to ask him if he had any regrets and if he tried again, but he also knew that he wouldn't get an answer - it didn't make sense.

"I was suspended, of course," Herstal replied, frowning slightly as he spoke. His fingers hang steady in the air, and Sharp's body twitches finally come to an end: his breathing stops.

At this moment, Herstal raised his head and looked at Albarino: his expression was so calm, his hair was not messed up at all, but there was a drop of blood splattered on his cheekbones at some point. He knelt in the pool of blood that gradually solidified, behind the bloody corpse, in the center of the lingering aura of death in the room, his eyes were cold and sharp, and the mad turbulence was hidden under the calm blue pool.

Albarino took a deep breath.

Both of them remained silent, as if the sound would shatter the present scene. Then Albarino strode forward, stepping into the pool of blood, feeling the blood begin to soak through his pants as he knelt down beside Herstal.

Then he reached out and grabbed the other's finger holding the knife, and felt the slippery skin and the blood on his hand. Albarino took his hand and leaned forward, kissing Herstal on the lips.

Chapter 42 Dance, dance, my doll 06

Herstal said: "Albarino—"

He didn't finish the sentence, because he was pushed directly to the floor by Albarino in the next second - in this respect they need not hide, namely: if it wasn't for Herstal's permission, Albarino would It would never be easy to succeed - but at this moment, Herstal's palm just supported the floor symbolically, his fingers pressed in the pool of blood, slipped forward abruptly, and drew a clear line on the ground. After the five-finger marks, his spine hit the ground.

Albarino's hand rested on the back of his head, and Herstal could not judge this thoughtful move. In the current environment, this behavior is not considered considerate in any way.

The other's eyes are always that creepy bright green, reminiscent of láng, ghost fire and tumbling pools of acid. Normally, Herstal wouldn't be surprised if this lunatic would do something over the line, but at this time—

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