My House of Horrors

“You in the picture?” Chen Song also made up the past. He has seen all 13 paintings in the studio. He has some impression of the fourth painting: “Did you paint this painting? ”

Zhou Zhu did not speak, his soul seemed to have been sucked into the painting and his eyes stared closely at the canvas.

The fourth painting, that's the oil studio.

Thirteen painters sat on a chair in the first half of the painting, and the lower half of the painting was a blood red. Thirteen painters died tragically in their seats in different ways.

It's important to note that in the first half of the painting, the painters painted on the drawing board, and that's exactly how they died.

These painters already know what happened to them, but instead of choosing to change, they have documented everything completely.

When Chen Song first came to the oil studio, he stayed alongside the painting for a long time. He didn't expect it to be a Zhou diagram.

A closer look will reveal that the fourth painter sitting in the painting looks very similar to Zhou Dian.

“All the other paintings are trying to show an upside down world. The only painting is the painter himself.” Chen Gong did not disturb Zhou Diao, his gaze shifted between painting and Zhou Diao Diao: “What has Zhou Diao experienced? Why is his painting so different? ”

Thirteen painters, fourth in line, he's not the oldest, but the most unique.

Unlike the way other people remember waking up, Zhou Tu stood beside the frame and nothing had changed on him, but the atmosphere in the studio was changing subtly.

That feeling was unspeakable, as if the figures in the painting were all open eyes, and they were being watched with a single eye.

“Why am I suddenly a little cold?” Wang Yicheng shrunk his neck and hid behind Zhang Torch. He looked around blindly, with a hint of fear in his eyes.

“Zhou Diao?” The torch also had a bad feeling, he tapped the shoulder of the chart lightly.

His eyelashes twitched, and Zhou's body seemed to solidify. His eyes reflected the entire drawing room without a trace of blood on his face.

“Am I dead? ”

The dull voice squeezed out of his lips, and as he spoke, the fourth painter in the scroll suddenly moved.

The painter, who was sitting on the chair, suddenly threw away the brush in his hand, grabbed his neck with both hands and kicked his legs, as if he had been strangled by an invisible rope.

His eyes were convex and he was about to squeeze out of his orbit, and he struggled so hard that his body left the seat little by little.

His head was congested, his expression twisted, and he gradually became just like himself in the painting.

What's even scarier is that the lower part of the painting, the map of the week in the bloody red world, is slowly showing a smile on its face.

“Zhou Diao! Your neck!” Wang Yicheng pointed at Zhou Tu's neck and shouted.

Standing outside the painting, the body was slowly becoming like itself in the painting, and a black and purple mark appeared on his neck, which continued to deepen over time.

The neck becomes deformed and the sound of a ticking tick comes from the ear.

Looking at the sound, Chen Song discovered the second half of the fourth painting, the diagram of Zhou dying tragically in a bloody red world, and somehow survived.

He was covered in blood beneath the canvas, his face firmly attached to the canvas, his mouth splitting open and his blood running down his face.

Raised eyeballs, across the canvas, stare straight at the circumferential diagram standing outside the oil painting, it seems to be climbing out of the oil painting and dragging the circumferential diagram outside the painting roll into it!

“Teacher Bai, shall we take Zhou Tu away? ”

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick!

Looking back, several members of the Supernatural Research Society discovered that there were anomalies in all the portraits of the characters in the entire oil room.

The people in the painting lay on the frame and they all seemed ready to come out!

“This didn't happen the last time I came with Shadow, was it because they perceived Zhou Diao? ”

Once again, the facts prove that Zhou Dian is unusual. Chen Guo indicated that other members of the association approached Zhou Dian and forcibly left with Zhou Dian as soon as problems arose.

The bloodstain on the painting became bright, spreading red mist, and the increasingly bloody smell began to appear.

“It's not good!” Zhang Torch and Zhu Long stood next to Zhou Dian, and they found that the blood mist in the house began to converge towards Zhou Dian, like a giant cannibal flower with an open mouth.

“These things want to get into Zhou Diao's body! ”

Blood fog avoids others, adsorbs on Zhou diagram, more convergence.

“Teacher Bai! We can't wait any longer! Let's get out of here!” To prevent Zhou Tu from being completely devoured by the blood mist, Zhu Lung reached out and grabbed Zhou Tu's arm.

He wanted to drag Zhou Zhu from the center of the blood fog, but who knew that he had just pulled hard, and the blood fog instantly congealed into a rope with a thick wrist that strangled Zhou Zhu Zhu's neck and hung him in the center of the house.

“Zhou Diao! ”

His neck was wrapped in a condensed rope of blood silk, and the diagram swayed around the house like a pendulum, and he looked exactly like himself in the painting.

He had seen his own death and had recorded his own tragic death in full.

“I painted myself when I died, I watched myself hang, I watched myself gasp...”

The atmosphere in the painting room was even more depressed, and the blood stains flowing out of the painting grew more and more, and the people in the painting looked at the map hanging from the center of the room, all caught up in the carnival.

“Hanging is not the same as other forms of death, it is not like stabbing a knife in the heart, and after a brief period of numbness, the body is like burned by a fire, and the feeling of pain spreads from the wound all over the body. This is a very gentle way of dying, where your strength is drained, your oxygen is diminished, your despair is increased, and you can clearly feel the process of your death. ”

Men's voices come out in some direction of the house, as if from paintings on walls, or from gaps between floors and walls.

Chen Gong could not determine the location of the sound, but he could tell that the person who spoke at the time in the oil studio was the same person who spoke in the top toilet of the teaching building.

“Don't be afraid of death, I know you'll come back, no matter how many times you flee, you're one of us. ”

That sound seemed to be talking to Zhou Diao, and could not capture the position of the owner of the sound. If you listened carefully or even discovered it, it seemed to be coming from Zhou Diao's own mouth.

“Don't resist, your mission has been accomplished, sit quietly in your seat and wait for the last painter to enter. ”

Blood fog covered Zhou Dian, and his appearance became increasingly scary, losing weight at visible speeds to the naked eye.

When everyone was paying attention to Zhou Dian, it was not clear when the fourteenth frame had been added to the oil room.

The scattered blood mist drifted onto the fourteenth frame, leaving a pale red blood on a smooth canvas that looked far like a bloodstained skirt.