The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 984 Ch.983 The Fruit Knife in the Heart
How did Pierce's mother know that she was pregnant with someone else's child?

How dare she say that?
Vanessa was puzzled.

She was so hurt that she had to admit that she lied: but this time, she couldn't take back her words - Pierce's mother seemed to be sure that she was pregnant, claiming that if her belly didn't grow bigger in two or three months...

'So I lied?'

'Then you are a blasphemer - you did something bad, and the gods punished you by taking your children away... My God! Why did my Pierce marry a woman like you?'

Vanessa didn't know whether she was more angry than hurt, or more hurt than angry.

Since she got married, everything that happened around her seemed to be beyond her expectations: she was like a rose in a glass bottle, placed by her owner next to a bull.

She was tired of and no longer welcome anywhere.

In a daze, she dipped her finger into the powder that Pierce used to poison rats, stirred it into the soup, and smeared it on the root of her tongue.

My throat feels a little dry and painful, as if it was burned by fire.

She's ill.

Lying in bed, sick and bedridden, wrapped in a quilt, a chrysalis that will never turn into a butterfly.

When Pierce returned, he took care of her for a few nights.

Later, she was replaced by a more rude and impatient mother.

She covered Vanessa's head with the quilt, hit her somewhere with her feet and fists, and called her a lazy woman, a shameless, blasphemous, donkey-sucking bitch - but she turned a deaf ear to him and enjoyed the pleasure brought by the rat poison.

It was as if I was put into a barrel that would not suffocate me and thrown into the sea, and my heart followed the rhyme of the waves.

'I don't want to die. '

'I just want to see the moonlight on the last night of my life.'

Her brain became unusually sharp, and she could even recall prayers she had heard as a child.

She grew four heads and two pairs of wings, and in the mirror of her distant childhood, she frightened a restless candle.

then.

Thank goodness, so disappointed.

That powder isn't poisonous enough.

She was as weak as someone who had caught a cold, but she could not die. She dragged her tired body to Lengliu every day to report: her mission was to endure cold stares and ridicule, and forget the pain just as she forgot the time when the blood would arrive.

Her skin was getting thinner and thinner, and her pale cheeks were covered with corpse spots.

at last.

Pierce's mother couldn't stand it anymore.

She couldn’t, she said, ruin her son’s future by having a non-laying child in her house—and Pierce expressed his regret, with a degree of appropriate pain…

For the first time in his life, he took the initiative to kiss Vanessa.

on the bed.

He leaned over and kissed her face, her forehead, her cracked lips.

“I’m so sorry…”

Said the sturdy bearded man.

"I'm so sorry, Vanessa."

He said.

Vanessa was very happy.

She received her husband's kiss, but unfortunately her health was too poor to go to Lengliu immediately to show off to those stupid women - in fact, she would not have the chance to go to Lengliu in the short term.

She was 'returned' home.

Return to the home of her mother who gave birth to her and her brother who loved her.

The little cave where she lived before she got married, her own steaming, cobwebbed intestines.

"Get out!"

When she came, she had a piece of white veil, and when she left, she had an irreparable kiss.

She walked back home barefoot, stepping on dead leaves that were as brittle as her lips.

Mother is not here.

My brother isn't here either.

Maybe.

He was waiting for Pierce in the city?
Vanessa's bony hands brushed over the familiar wooden table, the fruit knife on the table, the dusty, roughly nailed cabinet, heard the boy's shout, and saw the sword in his hand - a sword made of wood.

Boys love these.

But my brother has never been good at work... Pierce is a good hand at it.

"What are you doing."

the boy asked, blinking.

He should know Vanessa, but he is a little vague.

"Vanessa."

Vanessa said.

"My name is Vanessa, and I'm your aunt."

The boy, who was not even as tall as the table, grinned evilly: "I don't have an aunt. You are a bad guy! A bandit in the mountains! Hey--" He hit Vanessa's leg with a wooden sword, then jumped away quickly, pretending that he was hit by an arrow.

What a lovely child.

Vanessa thought. So, she pretended to eat him and played with him for a while with a hoarse voice.

The boy sweated a little, his face flushed with joy: "I like you, aunt. I want to have an aunt like this - can you stay? Shall we continue tomorrow? I want my dad to make you a shield."

Vanessa smiled softly.

She hugged the boy, stroked his coarse curly hair, kissed his forehead, and said she would take him to a more interesting place.

"A secret cave I always went to alone when I was a kid."

She said mysteriously.

Pulling the excited boy, he left the brick house and headed into the secluded woods.

They walked for a long time.

When he got there, the boy started to grumble, saying he wanted to go home, that he was hungry, that he had a cut on his toe, and that he was about to pee.

She didn't stop.

Keep walking.

Walking to the old tree, Pierce was pressed and rubbed against the bark of the tree for half an hour.

Only then did she let the boy breathe a sigh of relief.

"I want to go home!"

The boy said angrily: "I don't want you to live here! I don't want an aunt like you anymore!"

Vanessa burst into tears.

She knelt in front of the boy, just at eye level with him, and pulled him into her arms like a madman.

The boy was quiet.

He touched Vanessa's face.

"Are you crying, Auntie?"

Vanessa shook her head slightly.

"I'm just happy."

she says.

Then he gently pushed the boy away.

He quickly pulled out the fruit knife he got from home and stabbed it into his neck.

Pull it out.

Stab it in again.

Pull it out again.

Until the gushing out of the slippery liquid made her unable to hold the handle of the knife anymore.

The blood was like a rainstorm.

Vanessa knelt on the ground and looked up.

This strange feeling of moisture could drive away the fleas in her body and soul, properly preserve her tenderness and innocence, and destroy those invincible slanders, like salt falling from the sky in winter, curing all the pains that were lingering in her jar.

She seemed to hear the holy chants of the gods.

He said.

That’s what He wanted her to do.

Vanessa held the boy's body, like solidified grease in a soup bowl, and never moved again.

This is a crime in a nutshell, clear and obvious.

It's the sinful mark of a bitch, the poisonous medicine, the mud on the bottom of the sea, the noise in the band.

The grease had its hands and feet tied, was sentenced in the cold pine and cold current, left the remote and twisted doorplate in the bumps, and was lifted to the highest point of the bright pearl amid the shouts.

She was covered with a sinful head, and with a sharp blade coated with sunlight, she cut off the arteries and trachea that carried the malice.

She returned to the embrace of God like a falcon returning to its master at the sound of a whistle.

In the fight.

Her blood was drunk by everyone, keeping the cold warm and filling the hungry stomach.

In every dream, she shed tears of repentance with her fleshless eye sockets - she stared at everyone who witnessed everything that happened.

Ask them.

Is there a sharp fruit knife hidden in your heart?

Roland woke up with a start.

At midnight.

The midnight after drinking the bloody wine.

He opened his eyes, untied the white snake that was almost suffocating him, and tickled its itch.

"Are you dreaming?"

He sat up, put a pillow under his waist, licked his dry lips, and counted a few numbers in silence.

outside the window.

The moonlight is bright.
-
Someone pulled me into a dream through blood...
-
No.
-
I should say, I'm not the only one.

(End of this chapter)