horror effect

What Julian said shocked Stephen very much.He couldn't imagine that the secret was beside him, so close to him.However, in addition to the shock, he also thought of the possibility that Julian had deceived him.But what reason does a photojournalist from England have to deceive a young man like him, who has no money, no power, and has not even begun to live independently.Moreover, there was a feeling in Stephen’s heart that Julian Raymond was trustworthy.This feeling came from the breath on his first visit, from the sunken eyelids, from the wrinkles on his brow.He wanted to say, "Come on, come with me, and we'll unravel the secret." But it changed as soon as the words came out.

"Why should I believe you? You can't prove that what you say is true. Maybe you made it up? Even if you do dream about someone, how do you know it's 'he'? How can you prove 'him' Is it the white lion? I can't believe you."

Dreams cannot prove legends, just as dreams cannot prove dreams.

Julian looked at Stephen with eyes as hot as burning stones in a fire, but the heat disappeared quickly.He said lightly: "If you don't believe it, forget it. Just pretend that I didn't say anything. Please completely forget about our conversation. I disturbed you for no reason, so what you should do now is say goodbye."

He stood up and turned to leave.Stephen stopped him. "please wait."

"Is there anything else we can talk about?"

Stephen was laughing in his heart, he understood that Julian felt offended, and he was angry. "Tell me about everything you experienced in the dream, and then let me judge whether I should believe you."

Julian looked at him.The young man was serious, but there was a spark of joy and arrogance in his eyes.So Julian understood that he was doing it on purpose just now, and he was playing him.But he can't get angry now, he still needs the help of this young man. "After I'm done, you say 'yes, I believe you. But please go'. Is that right?"

"I'm also investigating this legend. You need my information, and I need to know your dreams."

"You mean we can make a deal?" Julian said.

"You are not a reporter." Stephen said suddenly.

This sentence made Julian shiver, but he quickly adjusted his expression and said, "You are wrong. If you don't believe me, you can see my ID card."

"Of course your papers say you're a reporter and you're a reporter by profession, but in your core - you're not. A reporter might interview Malmey, might be interested in legends, but he doesn't get to the bottom of it You are studying physics, so you like to get to the bottom of the matter, but this is not the original reason. You don’t become like to pursue the truth because you study physics, on the contrary, you like You can only study physics if you search for the truth.”

Julian frowned.It made him uncomfortable to be seen clearly by a young man whom he had only met twice.

"You like to pursue the truth." Stephen continued, "The inquisition of physics is very suitable for you, but in the end you find that you are not suitable for the strict calculation and logic of physics, so you leave it, go to the crowd, use that A set of methods you are familiar with to investigate human beings. But in the process, you may have encountered many difficulties."

"You said this has nothing to do with what we talked about today." Julian finally spoke.He didn't like Stephen saying this, because it reminded him of a person who also said "Are you using the laws of physics to examine human beings" when he first met him.It pained him.

Stephen grinned and laughed silently.He had the kind of smile that made Julian feel like a rodent. "It doesn't matter. But you don't dare to underestimate me because of it. Tell me about your dream, and then we can think about what to do next."

They can exchange what they know and cooperate with each other.But this process made Julian feel that this collaborator was not only difficult to get along with, but would definitely make trouble for himself in the future.

Old Lin Nong's arthritis did not improve, but worsened as the temperature dropped.Mrs. Linnon and Valentine take care of the business of renting the bookstore. When Mrs. Linnon is busy, Valentine is alone.He sat behind the counter reading and occasionally wrote poetry.

And now, he was thinking of Herbert.Valentine always felt that there was a mysterious atmosphere surrounding that man. Although he and Herbert were friends, and he also knew that Herbert was a German who came here to run the hotel business, he still felt that he was mysterious.To the townspeople, Herbert was an outsider, and few businessmen were as scholarly and approachable as he.But beyond that, Valentine felt that Herbert had a heavy mind, just the kind of person who is constantly thinking about something terrible, and that something bitter seemed to lurk beneath his vigorous exuberance.

People don't know much about his previous life, maybe he made mistakes when he was young, which haunted him in later days.If this is the case, the mistake should be extremely painful.Valentine then began to wonder what mistake Herbert had made.The most likely thing to guess is of course love. It would be strange if a young and handsome man didn't make some mistakes in this. Maybe Herbert once deeply hurt the heart of a certain woman. The worst thing is, that woman committed suicide Since then, Herbert has fallen into an inescapable sense of guilt.

For some reason Valentine clings to this hypothesis, mentally picturing this fictitious event more and more clearly.Like a painter adding scenery to a canvas, Valentine adds to the story now a touching encounter, the next a sad parting, and it doesn't take long to stitch it together into a complete plot.He even gave the imaginary woman a German name—Allenheim.

So Alenheim and Herbert met, fell in love, broke up, and died in love.The author Valentine, who conceived all of this, expressed sympathy for her death, but also felt lucky.Otherwise, how could Herbert come to this remote town.

When Nicholas Theoros walked into the rental bookstore, Valentine was saying excitedly: "Poor poor Alenheim, your love is so short, it died before the sun went down..."

Hearing this sentence, Nicholas was stunned. He stared at Valentine with wide eyes, as if he was looking at a monster.And the latter's rising emotions were suddenly interrupted, and his face was blushing with embarrassment.

"Are you writing poetry?" asked Nicholas.

"Ah...well, yes...sorry."

"It should be me who said I'm sorry."

The two were once again in trouble.Because they were both worried, they dared not look into each other's eyes, they all stared at the wooden top of the counter.

"Are you here to borrow books?" said Valentine at last.

"Um... yes. No... well, I just... thought, talk."

"say something?"

"Yes……"

His voice was so low that Valentine had to move closer to him, but smelled alcohol. "you've been drinking."

Nikolay did not answer.Valentine knew then that his friend must be in trouble. "Don't you have to go to work today?" Valentine asked in order to change the subject.

"Dr. Hostatova said he's not busy recently, so I don't need to go." After speaking, Nikolai showed a miserable smile soaked in alcohol.Then Valentine understood that the reason for his friend's depression was because of the beautiful female doctor.Valentine sighed.Still love, or because of love.This thing is really harmful. In history, the death caused by love must not be less than that caused by the plague.

I, Nikolai Theoros, am deeply in love with Renee Hostatova.I didn't know this before, but since that evening—the dark, cold evening, I have.I made an intimate act of love—doing her hair while she put a layer between us—and I knew I was being rejected.If things hadn't gone the way they were then, if instead of "Thank you for reminding me to keep the doctor tidy" she'd said "Thank you for caring," maybe everything would have been different.

Hot, hissing lava slowly builds up and builds up in pressure, topped by kilometers of rock.The underground is rumbling, and the expansion has reached a critical point, but there is no feeling on the ground.Wriggling, squeezing, just a little bit more pressure—

Find a fissure, a branch next to a closed main pipe, from which the viscous lava that envelops the subterranean fire escapes, and the pressure finds its way out.Volcanic forecasting experts are thankful that half of the mountain was not blown up, no ash column tens of thousands of meters high was ejected, no spiral volcanic bombs, no torch burning half of the earth, no, no.What was supposed to happen was snuffed out.It never occurred to Pliny the Elder to open another crater next to Mount Vesuvius.He no longer has time.

I started working with her three years ago.I didn't realize her beauty at first.Her severity and indifference covered her face like a layer of frosted glass.Occasionally, something special—her tenderness to the patients, her care, her smile when she saw the patients recover—will be splashed on the frosted glass like water, filling up the undulations between the rough quartz grains, and in On the other side of the transparent glass, I could see her clearly.Before long, the moisture evaporated and the glass returned to milky white, making me invisible again.I knew that even if I broke that frosted glass, there would still be something between me and her.

Anton Hostatov died ten years ago, in the Bosnian war.No one can figure out why he went to that ghostly place at that time. Cannonball doesn't know if you are a foreigner. Anyway, he is dead. No body was found. It is said that he was hastily buried with the locals.Renee herself went to Bosnia after the war and found nothing.According to people in the town, she was indifferent and expressionless before she left, and she was still indifferent and expressionless after returning, as if what she was looking for was not her husband's dismembered corpse, but a book and a necklace.But the people in the town also said that it's a good thing they didn't find it. If they found it and saw it, they might go crazy.

But I know she's not crazy.Renee is no ordinary woman.God!I'm so happy!She was as hard as a lump of nickel and

Chromium iron, life cannot corrode her.I love this piece of iron.I love her and I fear her.Because I feel ashamed in front of her, I can't be as strong as her, the patient's blood and drugs make me painful, my parents' endless quarrel makes me irritable, and the aimless life makes me melancholy.I adore her and I fear her.I'm not on the same platform as her.She is on high, looking into the distance.I wish I could smash that platform so we're on a flat surface.I want her to be softer so we are equal.

She feels it.Lately she has been asking Nurse Maslova to help her, and she has distanced herself from me.She wants to keep a distance between us.I understand that she loves Anton and has always loved, so she doesn't want to love anyone else.But ten years, long enough for young trees to grow to be felled, long enough for newly built walls to become plastered and peeling.If another ten years pass, I don't guarantee that I will still love her, but if she can accept my love now, I believe that I can love her for the rest of my life.But, Anton, Anton, a ghost not only surrounds her, but also surrounds me.