horror effect

"Mr. Raymond?"

Constance's call brings Julian back from his shock.He pretended to be calm, with a smile on his face. "This painting is so beautiful, I think words are indescribable." He suddenly had an idea, and said, "Such a beautiful painting must have a very beautiful model. I really want to get to know her."

The female painter suddenly showed a melancholy look and shook her head. "That model... I met a long time ago, and now I don't know where he is."

"So he's a man." Julian showed a surprised expression, "Is he from this town?"

He noticed that Constance's gaze suddenly became cold, and something frightening flickered faintly in the depths of his eyes.

"No, he's not." said the female painter, "He's just passing by."

She is lying.She must know 'him', Julian thought, but she was lying.

Leaving the painting, they went on, and Constance invited him to look at his sculptures.There are clay sculptures, marble sculptures, transparent resin sculptures, bronzes, etc., all of which are full of mysterious and solemn atmosphere like her paintings.

"After reading your work, I feel very curious." He said suddenly.

"Oh?"

"I wonder what happened in your past."

"I have told you, Monsieur Raymond," replied Constance coldly.

"No, not those. Your experiences are certainly tortuous, but they are not unique to women living in your country. I am curious about something special, certain details, that would make a difference to a person. had unintended consequences."

"How did you come up with this? Because of my work?"

"Because of the beauty in your works."

Constance laughed. "According to what you say, those painters who paint beautifully--Raphael, Titian, Sir Teidemar, it seems that they should all be investigated for the beauty of their brushes."

"They are not like you. The beauty in the paintings of those people is a natural expression of their nature, but you, a woman who has experienced wars and national upheavals, can't see it in the works she paints at the age of 82. Shadows of what was once painful - that's unusual."

"Ah... that's not as strange as you think..."

Just as he was talking, the doorbell rang suddenly.Constance made an apologetic gesture and went out to answer the door.Julian walked after her.It was none other than Stephen Breumontrose, who had come to visit the painter.His appearance surprised Julian a little, and it was obvious that Stephen and the female painter were very familiar with each other.Therefore, after Julian left Constance Marmet's house, he did not go directly back to the hotel.He wanted to talk to Stephen and get some stories from him about the female painter's past.The church was nearby, and Julian sauntered towards it, hoping he could see it when Stephen came out later.

The church in the town is a Byzantine-style building with a small scale.The red sandstone church rises steeply along the mountain, and it looks very solemn against the nearby houses and trees.It has been two weeks since the last heavy snowfall, but there is still half a foot of residual snow piled up at the foot of the outer wall of the church.Although it was close to noon, there were no people on the road or in front of the church.Julian walked in slowly by himself.

He passed the porch and entered the nave, which was empty.The nave is not big, it can accommodate more than 200 people, and the deeds of the saints are painted on the walls of the holy statues. Because of the age, the color is dark and red.In the center of the semicircular alcove there is a statue of the Virgin, and the flames of the ever-burning lamp flickered, casting flickering shadows on the statue.The church was empty, save for the stale smell of wax, incense, and other remnants of days and nights through the ages.Julian was walking around the nave, trying to get a better look at the icons, when a voice came from behind him.

"Sorry, sir. No photography is allowed here."

Hearing this, Julian froze for a moment, and then remembered that the camera was still hanging around his neck.He turned and said, "I'm sorry. I just visited Ms. Malmey and took a picture of her, and now I'm bringing my camera in. I won't take any pictures, don't worry. If visitors are not welcome here, I'm leaving immediately."

The other party smiled.It was a church priest with a big beard. He looked about 50 years old. He was not tall and had gray hair, but his beard was still black.He may be leaving the church, but he is not wearing a black robe. "We welcome visitors during non-festival days. You can take a look. If you have any questions, you can ask me directly." He said.

Julian was delighted.Not only did he want to visit the church, but he also wanted to talk to the priest.And his starting point is naturally still inseparable from the secret of the white lion he investigated.Julian first introduced himself and made a request for an interview. Like Constance Marmey, the priest readily agreed.

Georgi, the name of the priest, is not a local, and was sent here 20 years ago to replace the priest who died before.The church in charge of him was built in the early seventeenth century by the local lord, the Duke of Suzdal, and the church was named after him.The church has been destroyed by wars over the centuries, and the existing building is less than half of what it was when it was originally built.In the past, the church was the life center of the local residents, but now fewer and fewer people can go to the church regularly, especially the new generation of young people. The weight of religion in their hearts is far less than that of career, love and pleasure.Speaking of this, Priest Georgi was a little excited.

"The younger generation doesn't believe in religion, it even laughs at it. They don't aspire to the Holy Good, they don't want to be saved. There is no love in their hearts where there should be love for God. No expectations, no fears , there is no sadness, no joy, there is nothing in them, so they become empty, and they have to drug themselves with drugs, alcohol and drugs. They are relaxed, but the relief is terrible."

Julian didn't answer, he just smiled.He is an atheist himself, and like many Brits he does not believe in any religion.But he knows why he doesn't believe, it's not because he doesn't want to love God, no he does, he wants to be able to call *his* name in his heart when God calls his name - but he doesn't .Religious beliefs were not in his character, and he could not be satisfied with vague explanations; False comfort with human beings as the yardstick.

"Young people have their own choices," Julian said. "We can't interfere with their thoughts."

"You're right," Priest Georgi said with a wry smile. "It's their freedom to choose what kind of religion they believe in and whether they want to believe in it. Life and death are up to them. Even if they feel pain, that's a right."

"It's kind of negative."

"I know, I know. We shouldn't be depressed. God doesn't allow us to be depressed. But for this kind of thing, our strength alone is not enough." He fell silent.

"Do you know the legend of the white lion in this town?" Julian asked suddenly.

"I know. That's true. Those who died were buried in the churchyard. I presided over the funerals of several of them."

"Is there any strange phenomenon in their death?"

The priest stared at him with wide eyes. After a long time, he said, "They all prayed to God for forgiveness before they died."

After Julian came out of the church, he walked directly to Stephen’s house.Two hours had passed, and there was no way Stephen was still at Constance Malmey.Stephen looked surprised when he saw him and told him why he had come. "You want to know her experience from me? I think she should tell you." He stood inside the gate and said.

"If a person deliberately conceals something, a frontal interview is not a good way." Julian replied outside the gate.

Stephen showed vigilant eyes, "Why do you think she didn't tell you the truth? And why do you think I will tell you the truth?"

Julian frowned. He didn't know if he should tell about his investigation of the white lion. He didn't know if this would alarm the residents of the town. Judging from what Priest Georgi told him, the residents here are very familiar with the legend. It has always been secretive, although on the surface it looks no different from other Eastern European mountain towns, but Julian believes that there are uneasy factors floating deep in people's hearts.And what does this handsome but lazy young man think about it?

"Do you know the legend of the White Lion?" Julian asked adventurously.

Stephen slowly raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "I know. But I don't see what that has to do with you asking me about Marmay's experience."

Julian hesitated for a moment.Has he already talked too much?He didn't want others to know his purpose, but he couldn't get more useful information like this.A grain of wheat neither germinates nor bears fruit unless it is scattered in the earth. "I saw a painting at Constance's. The figure on it was very pale and indifferent. It made me think of... a white lion."

"What kind of myth are you talking about?" Stephen sneered, "What relationship can there be between the characters in Marmet's paintings and a legendary animal? They are all fictional, and this is one thing in common. Perhaps Marmet is exactly Created according to the legend."

"You don't believe it?" Julian vaguely felt that something was wrong, and Stephen's attitude made him feel strange.

"Oh! You are indeed my old school friend, but I still have common sense." He nodded his head with his finger. "I don't believe that an imaginary animal can kill more than a dozen people, much less that it has anything to do with a person in a painting. It's easier if you just treat it as regional folklore, and don't put your energy into it." Waste it on such meaningless things." Stephen raised his hand to close the door, but Julian stopped him.

"Wait, how do you know that more than a dozen people died?" When Julian saw the regret flashing in the other party's eyes, he immediately asked, "You must not know nothing about this matter, and you are by no means like You're as indifferent to it as you claim to be. Tell me what you know."

Stephen shook off his hand and said angrily, "Why should I tell you?"

"Because... because I have seen 'him', I saw a pale albino patient in a dream, and after hearing about this, Father Colliven was very frightened, he advised me to leave immediately...I have touched' He', I believe that feeling is not just a dream, but I really can't explain it, maybe there really are things beyond life in the world, this kind of thing not only can't be explained, but also hard to dispel...I believe' he ’ is what you call the White Lion, the source of all the hurt and fear.”