Restricted Doomsday Syndrome

Gao Chuan's diary was finally extinguished, flying with no wind and self-dispersion. When he touched the lines and symbols on the surface of the hall that were indistinguishable, he quickly proliferated and filled the strokes. The gray symbols and formulas in this deep red fleshy hall are like elaborating some kind of deep and awkward truth, like the capillaries and nerve units in the flesh, like some kind of evil sacrifice place, They are enough to make people addicted to thinking, burst of inspiration, and fall into the truth that cannot be elaborated in words. The dim, ambiguous knowledge that seems to be on the boundary between known and unknown, ignited from the beginning of thinking. If someone observes everything here, it will only feel that the whole hall is becoming active and alive, and some ancient things that have been quiet for a long time are awakening-

Such a description is coming from the mind of a certain researcher. A vague impression that seems to be seen clearly, but unable to remember clearly, is growing from his imagination. He couldn't help but capture all of this. Every time the scene of the imaginary things became clearer, he felt more and more scared himself. These should have been fantasies, as if they were true portrayals of the hall behind them. He tried to stop these imaginations, stop thinking in this direction, but the more unwilling to think, the more these crazy ideas live.

He couldn't help but look behind him, the distance he had crossed, completely enveloped by darkness, what he had seen had already been left behind, however, the crazy imagination generated in his mind made him feel, what Things are chasing from there. The thing is not walking with feet, not floating, no eyes or even any contours that I have imagined in the past, nor any contours it has seen, nor its movement is linear, and it does not follow its own known principles.

It seems to follow the thought. When you start thinking, you are locked in by it. It peeped, wriggled, chasing from a world of unknown, huge and dark concepts of "space" and "time" that they absolutely knew.

It's coming, it's coming--

"It's coming." The researcher could not help mumbling.

"What?" The companion next to him didn't hear clearly, and only felt that the other party was in a strange state.

"It's coming." The researchers echoed in a trance.

"It? What?" The companion heard clearly this time, but was a little puzzled. Apart from the doubts, he also noticed something more wrong. The companion seemed to be a little bit dangerous.

The researchers did not catch up. In the position in the team, he was not the first nor the last. His pace was getting slower and slower, and his companions crossed over him. When he fell at the end, the others finally realized that there were certain Terrible things are happening to this researcher.

"Is it sick?" Another researcher couldn't help but slow down. He was hesitant, not knowing whether to wait or help the other person, or to turn around and leave immediately, as if nothing had happened. If it is really an attack of Doomsday Syndrome, it is not surprising, because everyone here can fall into the same situation at any time. Everyone here is a potential patient. After encountering so many incredible dangers, it is no longer an accident for your companion to fall behind, or to fall behind yourself, but a probabilistic realization.

It can only be said that the other party is out of luck. Moreover, your own actually does not have the ability to really help each other. Today ’s survivors must admit such a cruel reality: no matter how many things these people have done, how many plans have been made, how many possibilities have been calculated, which can change the current situation, or only temporarily improve the current situation, No!

Yes, none! The efforts of others and others have not yielded results at all. Everyone ’s work so far has to be suspended because of unexpected situations. If you continue, you may see hope, but this hope is being chased by despair at a faster rate. Go, catch, devour. I am helpless, and the escape is only passive.

Except for madness and despair, except for anomalies that are growing faster than yourself, there is nothing in this hospital.

What if they fled deep into the institute? No one wants to believe that those weird situations will be chased again in the next second, but what has happened has proved a desperate rule, everything that makes you feel afraid, those who want to die Everything will only come sooner than you think.

If you and others have collapsed, you can stop and face the unexpected embarrassment in a frank mood, but you and others are still struggling-the more you struggle, the more painful. Just like in science and education documentaries, spiders catch flying insects with their webs and inject venom into the flying insects, waiting for the prey to corrode and soften from the inside, and eventually become delicious juice. In such a scene, the spider is such a terrible and fierce monster, and how miserable are the flying insects that have fallen into prey.

The more you think, the more desperate you are, the more you imagine, the more terrifying you are. If you can not think or imagine, and reach the philosophical realm of thoughtlessness, maybe you can avoid it. Or think about what you can do without thinking.

My thoughts are expanding, my imagination is becoming richer, my thinking is describing things that I can't say clearly with my mouth. That thing is becoming more and more vivid, just like jumping out of illusion and becoming something.

Because the researchers who stopped and fell into a trance, several researchers who could not help but slow down, gradually felt that they seemed to understand what the researcher who was in a trance was thinking, what was happening to him. This kind of strong empathy is drilling into his own brain, stirring his brain, and constantly drilling deep into his own soul. They will understand at the next moment that they are sick, and the sympathy with the sick partner is the best proof. When they can feel the changes that are happening to each other, they are already undergoing the same changes.

Thinking is contagious, feeling is contagious, thinking is trending in the same direction, either rational or sensuous. All activities that belong to the behavior of "self-cognition" are bringing something indescribable.

That indescribable thing is like "sniffing" the "thinking" behavior itself.

"It's coming, it's going to catch up." One after another said. Because there were a few more people, the murmur of one person was also amplified. In the dark, these people's murmurs are like announcing, mantraing, and depicting some kind of horrible behemoth at the same rhythm. Just listening to their voices, they will feel that they are no longer researchers, but rather like a propagator of some kind of cult. The gradually loud murmur was so terrible that the researchers who did not look back and ran forward desperately felt the "chase".

Voices are chasing them, incredible anomalies are chasing them. Fear, madness and despair are chasing them. Those sick colleagues who have been thrown down have fallen into a quagmire that cannot be returned, and become a part of the quagmire. To them, it seems to be felt that they are struggling, reaching out from the mud with a painful gesture-even if it is only an illusion in the mind, those hands are also reaching out from behind the dark, catching up, trying Pull yourself into the dark quagmire.

The more those who fall behind, the more they feel the lifelike pursuit. No one wants to be "grabbed", even when turning around to look back, they can't see those "hands" at all, and they don't want to be caught by this illusion, they only produce "hands" in their imagination. Some people screamed as if they were entangled in that incredible hand, and a stumble fell to the ground, only to desperately watch the companions around him farther and farther away from themselves.

They can go straight forward, but they have fallen down, become entangled, hopeless, a huge, illusionary force is pulling their ankles, calves, body, neck and head. The researcher who fell to the ground didn't have time to get up, and the half-backed body had become stiff, as if there was something pulling the body and bending him backwards. This body is getting more and more curved, but he is getting older and his body is not so flexible, so even the bones make a creaking noise, and it seems to break at any time.

To be an ordinary person, it must be painful, but this researcher ’s face, apart from despair, has no other emotions left, because his face is like a frozen face, and he ca n’t reveal other things at all. His eyes are getting grayer and darker, and he loses his look. His breathing and screaming are changing from human voices to the sounds of other things, but what kind of things they are can't find the corresponding objects from the existing memories. Only gives people a feeling: this is definitely not a human voice.

One person fell, two people fell, three people fell ... The rest of the people didn't turn back, they pretended they didn't hear, they didn't dare to go back and see what the expression of the fallen person was, they felt like Once I see these people, I can't help but stop. Once I try to help them, I will become exactly like them.

Even so, even rushing without looking back, but with the fall of each companion, the remaining people can really feel that there is really something catching up. It was something chased from the hall that had been alienated, or that hall of alienation had become a part of it.

"It's coming, it's coming, it's already here." Such cries became louder and louder, and the survivors couldn't help covering their ears. Even just hearing the sound was enough to make them feel crazy.

They don't go to watch, they don't listen, they work hard not to think, they work hard to tap their body instincts, and rely on themselves to run. They don't know how many companions have been left behind, and they don't want to confirm. In the darkness of Mercedes-Benz, there are obviously many companions around him, but it is more and more like only one is left.

I am alone, running alone in this terrifying and desperate darkness. The time is so long, the passage is so long, and the time I ran has far exceeded the depth of the past when I arrived in the institute, the storage place of the LCL liquid, but I didn't see anything. There is no end to his up, down, left, right, and front, and his infinite darkness.

The road is so flat that it does not encounter any obstacles. It seems that no matter which direction it runs, it will not hit the wall, but sometimes, they hope they can hit something normal, so as to remind themselves that they are still It is in a real environment, not a nightmare. If you are tripped, will you be able to escape the despair and darkness that seem to have no end?

Of course, no one wants to trip their hands from the depths of the darkness ~ www.readwn.com ~ When they think of the word "hand", they immediately realize ... No, they don't want to realize it, They intend to stop their brains.

In the end, they all stumbled. Pained in the body, I hit several rolls on the ground, only to feel that I was going to be caught by the "hand" in the dark. However, immediately a piece of light unfolded in their vision. The bright picture temporarily dispelled the darkness and brought them back to a more realistic world. They heard familiar sounds, both light and color, and the outlines of objects, more reassuring than the darkness before.

All this familiarity caused them to relax their tight brains and let out a long breath. They lay on the ground, feeling the familiar, hard and cold touch, and only felt that they had been sublimated. For a long time, they could not continue to think, and could not get up from the ground. The horrible chase and escape made them feel that they had drained every cell of themselves.

After a while, someone slowly lifted his body and walked in the direction he used to-he tried to confirm where he came, and where he waited for someone to enter and exit, what was the situation, but he stopped immediately Footsteps, because in the direction of his gaze, where is the entrance? There was only one smooth and hard wall.

His face was twisted and he hugged his head hard. He did not want to think about it. However, terrible thoughts still vaguely came out of his mind. Fortunately, the shout that suddenly sounded behind him pulled him: "We are safe, we are safe! We escaped!"

The yelling person is like venting his throbbing emotions, screaming hoarse, dancing madly, but this kind of neurotic performance has caught everyone's mind. Everyone hopes that this is the case: he and others are temporarily safe.