horror effect

Herbert Wernstein stood by the door, staring at the empty room before him, sniffing the dry dust.

Bernous was gone, and with them his beautiful visions, leaving only the creaking, battered wooden floors and the mottled walls lit by dim sunlight through the windows.He looked teased again.

Herbert sighed.

There was nothing he could do, he even expected that he would die because of Bernus.The dust smelled bad, and he'd been in the room a little too long.

I ought to go out, Herbert thought.And ignore Kragujewicz on duty as he walks out.He turned the doorknob and opened the door.

A second later Herbert Wernstein was lying on his back on the dusty floor, and above him Julian Raymond was holding his arm and Stephen Breumontrost was holding his hand with a towel. Gag him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Warnstein," Stephen said. "I'm very sorry, and we don't want to do it. But if we don't, I'm afraid you won't be telling the truth. So, you see, we don't intend to kidnap you or hurt you." You are not interested in your money, we just want to ask you some questions, and as long as you answer honestly, we can promise to keep everything we hear secret. If you agree with this, please nod. "

Herbert stared at them viciously, without moving his head.

"Oh, in this case." Julian said, "Sir, don't think we can't do anything about you. Stephen and I know very well that you have committed fraud in business competition. Although there is no legal problem with those contracts, those extremely low The prices, those terms that are obviously biased, are probably the result of Bernus Molatov's manipulation. For example, your acquisition of the Cedar Hill Hotel. Ah, please don't stare at me like this. If you agree, please Nod. Good, good, that's it."

They let go of Herbert, who sat up, dusted himself off, and looked back and forth between the two of them.

"Your bravery is really admirable," he said resentfully.

"It's nothing," said Julian, "or you think it's a sign of bravery to hand over the sleeping-dipped whiskey to the waiter on duty."

Herbert sneered.

"Okay. What do you want to know? Now that you know Bernus Molatov."

"That's a question?" Stephen said. "We want to know why Bernous drives people crazy. There are many things about his behavior that we still don't understand; what kind of plans he has, how far-reaching— If possible we would like to warn those who are in danger; where you are in his plans. Please tell us honestly."

"Plan?" Herbert twisted his mouth when he thought of the conversation he had just had with Bernus. "He's a madman."

"No." Julian pressed his shoulders, staring down at him.

"Both Stephen and I have had contact with Bernous. His behavior is very strange, but his thoughts are deep and dark. Although he has his own unique logic, it is not unexplorable. Your contact with him is better than ours. More, and you should know more."

Herbert snorted sneeringly.

"He's very thoughtful and logical. But that's what makes him a horrific lunatic! What do you think you'll get for studying him? Praise from a university or institution? Gratitude from people you tell them they're going to die ?You people who only know the truth have always stared coldly at the pain of others! We don’t want the truth, what’s the point of that! Let’s have something warm instead of cold while we’re alive!”

Julian let go of his grip on Herbert's shoulders, straightened up, folded his arms across his chest, and looked into the hateful face before him with dark eyes.

"There are people in the world who would rather know the hard truth than believe in some entertaining nonsense. Me and Stephen, we don't want to live in deception, we never think of ourselves as masters of the world or life The truth may indeed be cruel and hopeless, and it is true that living ignorantly in the Garden of Eden is blissful, but this kind of happiness is a manifestation of our fragility. We cannot stay in false dreams forever. Take what you know Tell us, Herbert."

"You call me a coward?!" Herbert snarled at him.

"I think you just lack courage."

The man on the floor let out a terrible laugh, clutching his face with his hands.

"Courage? I'm going to die... Courage? What can my courage bring me?" Julian and Stephen looked at him in surprise, but Herbert suddenly yelled at them, "Don't you want to know the truth?! There is so little I can tell you! Go to Constance Marmet! Go to her! She knows more than I do! She is the key! Go!"

"That female painter?!" Stephen yelled.

"It's her! Are you still going? What are you wondering! I don't want to lie to you!" He pushed the two people with both hands.

Julian looked into Herbert's frantic, anxious eyes, those eyes, deep and menacing, as big as a wall, a billow, with an indefinable will.

Julian made up his mind, took Stephen's hand and rushed out of the room.

In the room Herbert slumped, his sweaty body flat against the floor, his eyes watching the dust-nets that had accumulated on the ceiling, and a weary smile.

"I hope they still have time..."

The withered brown branches of the ivy hooked onto the sleeve of Julian who was leaning against the wall. He stretched out his hand to push it away, but was instantly surprised.

He recognized the ivy, and time suddenly slowed down, like water droplets hanging on the tip of the leaves, shaking gently and refusing to fall.

This ivy once stretched out criss-crossing green leaves in spring, was once reflected into a wall of red flames in the sunset, and was once transformed into a bat arching its body and spreading its wing membranes in the dark.

Its veins like blood vessels in the palm of your hand tremble in the breeze. A girl in a linen skirt stretches out her hand to feel the coolness of the plant. When you see her, you blurt out: "She is so beautiful. She will die soon."

The beautiful figures dissipate like ripples, a group of knights in black armor and riding black horses gallop past, a few broken green leaves are flying in the whirlwind behind them, your eyes follow them away, and you can already hear the wailing of the old man in your ears. Babies cry; orange-red flames deepen in the night, and the flesh of poor Clara Gessler or Mikhail Perg is blackened and stinking in the flames; the flames also burn off the handkerchief that Queen Isabella wipes her tears , burned the leather-bound notebooks filled with "Remember me, if I have gone away" or "It was a beautiful evening, quiet and clear", burned the smoldering leaves and sweet chestnuts of autumn.

But in an instant the black wings of the bats extinguished the flames, squeaking in the cold wind, and hovering in the night; Men in fine attire waved diamond-ringed hands and shouted "No," and saw the lips of lovers separated by fences touching between leaves and spikes.

Yes, there are always things going on, woven into the ivy's vines, growing there, growing here.Stephen was pushing the door open, and it was part of a myriad of events that would always happen, with its aftermath of greenery, fire, and bats.Julian thought: "What will we see?" Before his eyes, a green hill and green valley appeared, and a giant white bird was flying in the sky...

In front of his eyes, a green hill and verdant valley appeared, giant white birds were flying in the sky, shadows were cast by floating boulders with sharp cones, and the sharp sound of wicker whipping the air was heard in his ears.

Once again he entered that unreal dreamland, the warm world of eternal tranquility with past and future.

Even though he knew it was something thinner than Neptune's atmosphere, he still praised the peace of mind that this beautiful fantasy gave.

Beside him, Stephen held his arm tightly, and a series of exclamation words came out of his mouth, "What a beautiful dream!" What a strange dream, what a real dream, the grass under your feet will break and ooze juice, dyeing you green soles and white trouser legs; the skin from the wicker will be painful and red.

You sweat when you run down the hill; the berry tastes sweet when you pop it in your mouth and crunch it.So beautiful, so real - so deceptive.Faced with a world that can supply your unlimited needs and satisfaction, who would not want to sink into it and sink to death?Does anyone question whether it is false or not?Stephen was already lying on the grass, enjoying the warm sunshine and the fragrance of the plants, and Julian bent down and pulled him up.

"Bernus must be waiting for us somewhere..."

Before he finished speaking, there was a roar of a wild beast from the top of the distant mountain, more like the excited roar of the mountains.

They were taken aback, and looked in the direction of the sound in panic.

A spot of light appeared on the top of the mountain, which instantly turned into a ball of light, white and dazzling, swooping down like billowing hot silver.

It was a huge white lion galloping down, and the trees parted on either side of it, leaving a deep scar in the grass.

"Oh, he's coming, he's coming at us!" Stephen cried tremblingly. He wanted to run away into the valley, but Julian grabbed him.

"Don't panic, he won't hurt us." He looked at the white light, and his smile grew wider. He found that he could somehow experience what was in Bernus's mind, on a level of beauty and drama. In fact, perhaps they can understand each other better in the dream created by Bernus.

Maybe this is his purpose?

The white lion had already come to them, its paws moved slightly, and its red eyes blinked.

"That's a great opening," Julian said to it.

It seemed to be happy and shook its mane, white light spots overflowed from the tip of the hair, surrounded it, and gradually became brighter until it was too dazzling to look at.

The mass of white outlines changed, getting taller and narrower, and finally, as the light spot faded, Bernus Molatov in a white robe stood in front of them, smiling with red eyes.

He looked at Julian, then at Stephen, and he looked at Stephen's surprised gray eyes and his slightly trembling arm leaning against Julian.

Bernus stretched out his pale arms and held Stephen's chin with his fingertips.Stephen should probably congratulate himself for not turning away with a yell.

Bernus stroked his chin, and the smile on the corner of his mouth deepened.He let go and said, "Ah, I've watched you for 15 years, from a boy to now, you 'dear little thing'."

Julian's eyes widened.

"You're not even spying on us when we're having sex, are you? You peeping tom."

Bernous giggled.

"Of course I would. What do you think I can do? Do you think all the endless hours I have are spent praying to God or crying? No, no, no!" He waved his hand, " I like human beings, I observe them, I play with them, from small babies to the elderly. My mind stores the lives of many people, all kinds, they are like a glass vessel filled with many kinds of liquids, suffering and suffering. Sweet, thick and thin. Their bodies die, but they still live in my head."

"You treat people only as rats for your experiments?" Stephen asked angrily.

Bernus shook his head.

"People are born as experimental mice, do you think there is any difference? It's just that some people are just a mouse all their lives, and he has never even dreamed of becoming a cat; while some people, a large part of them , they changed from mice to other animals - tigers, snakes, dogs, parrots, horses with goose heads, peacocks with two heads, mermaids with tiger heads, whatever I've shown you ; there is only a small part, and they expect to become real people that I can't control."

"But you chose the lion," said Julian.

"Because the lion has always been a symbol of mysterious power. But the incredible thing is not the lion." Bernus looked sideways at the distant mountains, "The lion was like this thousands of years ago. It has not changed. The incredible thing is ourselves. , we human beings and the earth have changed.”

"...You seem to be looking for something." Stephen said softly.

This brought a rare soft smile to Bernus's face. "You're right, dear little thing." He was always looking, looking for something that would fuse his own past, the past and future of the whole world, heaven and earth, into one.

Bernus took Julian and Stephen's arms and said, "We're not here just to talk, move forward."