Schiller is very clear that there is a certain difference between the events in the Cthulhu mythology system and those of superheroes. It often takes a long time to prepare for the real disaster to reveal its true appearance.
Schiller thought that the hotel fit this situation well. It was very peaceful at first, then gradually various strange situations appeared, and then evolved into a catastrophe that affected the whole city.
But if the point in time where I am is in the past, and the point in time where Peter is in the future, the situation will be weirder than imagined.
Because it is very obvious that there are abnormal phenomena everywhere in the hotel where I am. The 19th floor has no way to go down after getting up, the elevator makes a non-stop sound in the middle of the night, and the neighbors are obviously not very good. No matter how you look at it,
It should be the product of a strange incident.
On the contrary, Peter was very calm. He checked into the hotel very smoothly and could move around as he pleased. His neighbors were all normal and could communicate with each other. There was no shortage of basic survival supplies and nothing happened.
Supernatural events.
But assuming that things had already become like this at Schiller's time, what happened to Peter's peacefulness at that time?
If the time gap between the two is very large, it would be okay if they were completely in two eras. However, the short man who lives in room 1903 in the two hotels is obviously the same person. From his voice and appearance, he does not seem to have changed much, that is,
It is said that the time span cannot be several decades, and the changes must occur within a year.
In other words, it is impossible for a supernatural phenomenon to occur and wipe out the entire town, and then people forget about it and start everything from scratch.
Obviously, it is impossible for the supernatural to break out during Schiller's time and then heal without any medicine. Suddenly he gets better, and then becomes very peaceful at Peter's time.
Then there is only one possibility left. The supernatural phenomenon continues to worsen. Schiller's hotel is actually before the deterioration, and Peter's hotel is after the deterioration. All the peaceful scenes are just disguises, and there are unimaginable hidden things deeper inside.
of terror.
Jerome's appearance at Peter's place is also evidence. According to Schiller's understanding, this investigator can chase little Bruce up and down. If the hotel where Peter is staying is really okay, he will not show up there. On the contrary,
It was only after he showed up that he proved that the problems in this hotel were beyond imagination.
Schiller lamented Peter's unlucky heart. Just when he wanted to remind Peter via communication, he found that the scene in the room began to change, and a person gradually appeared.
It was a beautiful and plump blonde woman. She stood in the center of the room with her back to the window. The messy living room suddenly disappeared and was replaced by a luxuriously decorated guest room.
Schiller felt that the figure was a bit familiar, but he couldn't remember it for a while, so he didn't move, leaning on the sofa with one leg on top of the other, as if he was watching a good show.
The woman was applying lipstick and touching up her makeup. After a while, she smoothed her hair. Finally, she turned around and looked at Schiller who was sitting on the sofa outside the window and said, "Why are you still sitting there? You didn't mean to have a chat."
?”
Schiller narrowed his eyes slightly. What is this? A honey trap?
No, no, this woman looks familiar. She should be someone Schiller has met before. Just when Schiller was thinking about who she was, the woman walked to the window, looked at Schiller with a smile and said, "It looks like you
Forgot about me, remember? We once had a romantic date..."
As soon as the word date came out, Schiller seemed to think of something. He did know this woman. She was a socialite he met at a banquet when he was studying in the United States in his previous life.
If you can't do martial arts, are you planning to do literary drama? Schiller thought with interest.
He was not surprised that some being in the room could read his own memory. The Cthulhu Mythos system was an expert at playing with memory, knowledge and emotions, so it was surprising that they didn't know how to do this.
Schiller even felt that this was not an illusion caused by any magical energy, but because his brain waves were interfered with. The illusion that only appeared in front of his eyes was equivalent to putting a membrane on his eyeballs.
Sure enough, as the memories related to this woman gradually emerged in my mind, the room turned into a bedroom.
Schiller found it amusing that the room seemed to be trying very hard to find moments when he had mood swings.
According to common sense, the memory of the first date with your lover will be a good object to cherish the past.
But Schiller never made sense.
As his memories surged and thoughts flashed by, the body lying on the bed had transformed from a white body into a bright red and jumping live fish. The smell of blood was so strong that it seemed to burst the room.
With a swish sound, the illusion disappeared.
The tone of the room darkened, becoming gray and cold. A serious professor with gray hair was sitting at his desk reading. He pushed up his glasses, looked out the window and said to Schiller: "Long time no see, recently.
Okay? Have you published any latest papers?"
"Long time no see, Professor." Schiller said as if he was really greeting him: "There really haven't been any impressive research results recently."
He began to recall the professor's face again. When he tried to pull this face out of his memory, countless memories about this old professor were pulled out at the same time.
The room turned blood red again.
The shadowless lamp was suddenly lit, and the room gradually turned into an operating room. A hospital bed was pushed in, and a pale little boy was lying on the hospital bed. The nurse shouted anxiously to Schiller: "Doctor!
Chief surgeon! What are you still doing standing there? The patient's operation is about to begin..."
Schiller rummaged through his memory again, and the operating table in the room suddenly changed into two. On one was a man who had been disembowelled, and on the other was a woman who was lying with her eyes open.
The scene in the operating room also began to fade away, but no new hallucination scenes appeared. The room seemed to be stuck.
But Schiller laughed and said: "Do you want to find good memories to lure me back? You can try to look through them again. I remember there were still a few times that didn't turn into a murder."
The phantom in the room began to change again. As soon as this scene appeared, Schiller felt very familiar. It was the prayer room where he often stayed in his previous life. An old priest opened the door and walked in.
"You came early today," he said.
"Because I have something to do." Schiller replied habitually: "You can go back and rest. I will help you entertain other believers."
Then the scene jumped to the back garden of the church. In front of the rusty flower pavilion, the soil was piled high, and a large pit appeared in the center of the room, where a recently deceased body lay.
Schiller relaxed on the sofa and said: "It was really a carefree time that is nostalgic."
The corpse started to move.
"Do you finally want to be haunted?" Schiller seemed to be talking to himself, and no one in the room answered him.
"Why did you want to kill me?" The old priest, whose face was covered with corpses, stood up and looked at Schiller outside the window and asked: "I am not your enemy, and I have never blocked your way."
"Yes, you even took good care of me." Schiller nodded, looked at the corpse and said, "Do you want me to feel guilty?"
"Shouldn't you feel guilty?"
Schiller shook his head and said: "You have told believers the wrong truth. I am just preventing you from spreading the fallacy more widely."
"You are a devil."
"And the angel you were thinking about didn't come to save you." Schiller said: "You are the first priest I know. Your death is not meaningless, but it gave me a good start."
"You killed the innocent me."
"It was God who killed you because God did not save you." Schiller looked at him calmly and said, "Have you ever resented God?"
The other party seems to be stuck again.
The fantasy in the room disappeared in an instant and returned to the messy appearance. Schiller compared these memories and found that they seemed to be played in order from back to front.
Many corpses appeared in the room, most of them non-human, standing in a messy living room.
"Why do you want to kill me?"
"Why do you want to kill me?"
"Why are you..."
"Why did you..."
They repeated this passage together, constantly approaching the window, reaching out their hands from the broken window, as if they wanted to pull Schiller back, but obviously the distance was not enough, and the phantom seemed unable to affect places outside the window.
.
"It was God who killed you." Schiller replied: "Because he did not come to save you when you were struggling in pain. No matter how pious you were and how much you paid for your faith, after you died tragically
At that time, the Almighty God did not appear."
"It's you..."
"It's you..."
"It's you..."
Schiller glanced at his watch. It was now 11:00 pm. He said, "I guess you have to stop before 'it' comes. You still have an hour. If you want to continue to be a repeater here,
I won’t stop you either.”
The movements of the corpses stopped and they just stood blankly by the window. However, because most of them were no longer in human form and could not even awaken the uncanny valley effect, they did not look very scary.
Schiller looked up and down at these corpses with great nostalgia. Unique memories are the pillars that constitute each personality trait.
Obviously he had a hand in how these bodies turned out, but that was a long time ago.
As the recalled memories continued to surge, the gentle expression belonging to "Schiller" reflected on the glass disappeared.
Instead, there was an unfamiliar face with eyebrows as sharp as knives.
These "old friends" who suddenly appeared reminded him of his youth.
Young Schiller was like a boundless wind, coming with a mighty stream and leaving full of ice and snow, lonely and cold, and unstoppable.
The layers of stubborn disease under the earth's veins were turned upside down. He used the black blood flowing in the deepest evil arteries to forge himself into a good sword with a sharp edge.
There was one part murderous intent and one part chivalry on that face, no matter how ruthless it was, it was touching.
