Jiu Ge’s Beloved Spirit

The man put his arm around her waist and touched her head.

"scared?"

".fine."

That's weird.

Yun Si buried herself in his arms, closed her eyes, and decided to forget everything she had just heard.

It is said that an article can reflect a person's inner world. Now that he has written such a dark fairy tale, it doesn't really feel right.

Also a pervert?

Yun Si felt a little tired, "Next time, don't write such a bloody and dark fairy tale. Write something better."

"I can't," he said honestly.

Yun Si: "."

"Then write whatever you want. In short, bloody and violent content is not allowed."

His smile just now really scared her.

She had always known that he had a dark heart, but she didn't expect it to be so terrifyingly dark.

In comparison, even the evil spirits in hell can't even compare to him.

Yun Si calmed down a little in his arms, then looked up at him.

He looked at her and then kissed her again.

"But why do you like writing the Dark series so much?"

Yun Si looked at the scars on his face and reached out to touch them.

"Is it because someone bullied you before?"

He was startled, and his eyes seemed to flash for a moment.

No words, slightly silent.

After a long time, he whispered,

"I just feel... uncomfortable."

"All my family members died in that fire, and I was the only one who survived. I feel uncomfortable."

There were fires all over the sky, the cries of the crowd, the red-hot sky, and the pungent smell of gas leaks in the air.

That was all his memories, like a nightmare, constantly looping in his mind, stimulating him, making him extremely depressed and collapsed, causing his spirit to be torn apart, and he was tumbling forward in the quagmire of pain.

He didn't know what was wrong with him. He only knew that the hot and pungent feeling had completely eroded his brain, leaving nothing behind.

After the fire, he lost large areas of memory, and his mind was empty, leaving only the fire that spread to the sky.

When he woke up again, only the police appeared in front of his hospital bed, holding a notebook and saying they wanted to take notes.

Only then did he know his identity and that all his family members were dead, leaving only a few houses for him.

He paid for his medical expenses by collecting rent, and then moved here, living in confusion every day.

When he was emotionally manic and mentally torn, he wanted to do something especially to vent his terrible desires.

However, the remaining trace of reason told him that he couldn't.

He has to be patient, control himself, and not allow himself to do anything that would make the situation get out of control.

Therefore, he found that writing down his evil thoughts was a good idea.

At least, he doesn't need to go out to meet people or face external variables.

As long as you live in your own world, you can control yourself and stop getting sick.

As for dark

She didn't know that these were already considered warm fairy tales to him.

In his computer, there are more detailed bloody articles, bit by bit, the blood spatter is written extremely vividly.

He actually prefers that description, prefers to describe the smell of decomposing corpses, and even prefers...

Describe the rats in the stinking ditch eating the remains.

Having that kind of scene play out in his mind over and over again would make him extremely excited.

It will even stimulate him to produce more bloody scenes.

It plays one frame after another, like a movie.