Lan Yin Bi Yue

Capítulo 18

"We bumped into him while he was crossing the street, but it was an accident."

“No, my brother drowned.” Missy interrupted Julie sharply, snatching the note back, completely disbelieving her. What was wrong with this girl, coming up with such an absurd story out of nowhere? The police had pulled David’s body from the sea.

“I saw that he had ‘Susie’ tattooed on his arm.”

“Tattoos? He doesn’t have tattoos,” Missy said with absolute certainty. She understood; this girl had either mistaken her for someone else or was deliberately trying to cause trouble. She didn’t want to deal with her anymore; continuing to talk about David was just too painful.

(8)

Julie insisted, "I saw it..."

“You didn’t see anything! Get out!” Missy’s angry roar startled Julie. Her mind was in chaos, and the unexpected turn of events left her unable to grasp her thoughts. She couldn’t utter a single word.

"Get out of my house!" Missy said, then walked into the cabin without looking back.

Julie stood frozen, fragments of her memory flashing back, but now, another blurry black figure appeared in those images. "My God," Julie murmured, then suddenly realized and cried out, "We crashed..."

He's not your brother.

Julie dashed toward her car like an arrow.

As dusk fell, people were busy preparing for the evening's main event at the club.

The staff rearranged the chairs to make them more close together, but there probably still wouldn't be enough seats.

"Speak louder, many people can't hear you, hello..." The emcee on stage adjusted the microphone and sound effects, but actually, even louder...

No sound would help, because the cheers and screams would surely lift the roof off. A young woman stood in the center of the stage, a makeup artist applying a thick layer of foundation to her beautiful face; the lighting technician aimed at her, adjusting the aperture, and then the stage lights went out. Behind the "pirate ship" set was the backstage area, which was brighter, and the silhouettes of Barry and Helen were visible through the backdrop. Barry held Helen in his arms, gently patting her trembling back. Helen had already...

She told him about the fisherman she had seen on the small building. She couldn't imagine what would happen next, but a strange feeling welled up inside her.

Where did that courage come from? Perhaps it was because there was a woman in his arms whom he truly wanted to protect.

Barry comforted and encouraged Helen, whose face was streaked with tears: "You have to stay calm. I'll be in the private room."

"He has a hook! I saw it, a really big hook!" Helen screamed uncontrollably.

“It’ll be alright,” Barry hugged Helen tightly, his voice as firm as a vow, “I…”

I won't let anything happen to you.

A warm current flowed through Helen's cold hands and feet, and she gradually stopped trembling. Helen felt that as long as she was in this man's arms, she was safe.

As darkness fell, the tranquility of the cornfield was shattered by a speeding car. Julie, in the driver's seat, was frantic with worry.

As night fell, the club was bustling with activity, marking the climax of the South Harbor Independence Day celebrations.

The beauty pageant has moved on to the Q&A session. The townspeople are all too familiar with this scene, yet they still enjoy it immensely, because every year there are different and spectacular performances. Another group of beauties, dressed in colorful swimsuits, line up on the stage, listening to others' answers and secretly comparing their own performances to those of others.

“Well done, ladies. Now, let’s welcome last year’s champion—” the emcee deliberately drew out the words to create an air of mystery, “Miss Helen Schiffer.”

A wave of applause and cheers erupted as Helen walked to the center of the stage. She should have appeared radiant and composed, for this was the place where she had received her highest honors, the place that filled her with the greatest pride. But now, Helen was completely oblivious to all of that; her ears were ringing. She moved stiffly, her face filled with unease, her beautiful eyes carefully scanning the dark mass of people below. The spotlight opposite her was awful, sweeping back and forth, making her uncomfortable and obscuring her vision.

Helen looked up. This time last year, her lover and best friend had sat in that same box cheering her on. Her feelings now were completely different. But she saw Barry standing there, wearing a white sweater, his arm against the railing, standing out starkly in the darkness. Even from a distance, Helen could feel his strong arms encircling her, and the buzzing in her ears seemed to fade. A reassuring smile spread across her face as she sat down in the armchair.

The emcee announced, "Next up is a talent show."

Helen turned her head, focusing her attention on the contestants for the time being. Barry also stared at the bustling stage, but his tense nerves still couldn't relax; he always felt that danger was lurking around.

Julie's car sped along the mountain road, winding through one bend after another.

Below the highway, the sea surges and roars furiously.

The cheers in the club grew louder and louder.

Now, a girl in a blue swimsuit is singing loudly on stage. Sitting beside her, Helen can't help but recall her past glory: the answer Julie helped her devise was fantastic, and she received the loudest cheers of all. The excitement of that night is still fresh in her memory.

Barry remained in a private room on the second floor, completely ignoring the flirtatious girls. He stood alone in the darkness, a chilling feeling slowly consuming his heart, but he had to muster his courage. Damn it, how dare someone mock him like this? He'd teach them a lesson. As he thought this, he glanced down at the crowd below.

The girl in the blue swimsuit sang with increasingly sweet voices and her movements became more and more provocative, while the audience below the stage grew more and more excited, with everyone's attention focused on the girl's alluring breasts.

Just then, a fisherman's shadowy figure appeared behind Barry like a ghost, unnoticed by Barry.

"My God!" Helen, sitting on the stage, was utterly astonished by this mediocre performance. She thought back to her own days, when her performances were far superior, even professional. That's why she so confidently won the crown, then went to the beach with Barry, and then…and then they were trapped by a terrible curse. If that hadn't happened, perhaps she and Barry…

Thinking this, Helen's gaze shifted back to the second-floor private room. She could barely open her eyes, and slowly, as the spotlight swept across, Barry's white figure reappeared in the darkness; he was still standing there, watching her. However, right beside him, another figure gradually emerged. God, it was the fisherman! He walked straight towards Barry, who remained completely oblivious.

Helen jumped up from her chair and screamed in terror, "Berry!"

But Barry didn't understand Helen's meaning. Before he could react, the fisherman had already grabbed him by the neck from behind and slammed him to the ground.

"No!" Helen cried out.

Chaos erupted both on and off the stage.

In the private room on the second floor, sharp iron hooks were swung viciously, each one piercing straight into Barry's stomach, causing blood to splatter immediately.

Helen rushed off the stage and ran towards the stairs. Her laurel wreath fell from her head, landing heavily on the floor, and the resignation ceremony was completed in chaos. Helen paid no heed to any of this; her only thought was of Barry, and she shouted, "

"Go save him! Go save him! In the private room, Barry!" But people just looked at her blankly, not knowing what was going on.

On the floor of the private room, Barry was completely powerless to resist. He was like a fish on a chopping board, watching helplessly as the killer repeatedly raised the hook and smashed it at him, until he gradually lost consciousness.

Helen rushed frantically towards the second floor, causing a great commotion in the crowd. No one understood what was happening; they simply tried to stop the girl who had suddenly lost her temper and calm her down.

"Save him! In the box, Barry!" Helen's voice was too weak and was immediately drowned out by the other voices in the room. These ignorant people were of no help at all; instead, they surrounded her. Helen could clearly see, on the ceiling behind everyone's heads, the horrifying shadow of fishermen throwing hooks at Barry. This sensation drove Helen even more frantic. She desperately pushed through the crowd, but she couldn't get out. If she didn't hurry, it would be too late. Didn't these fools see it? Was it just her imagination? But she clearly saw that the hooks were stained with Barry's blood.

"Excuse me." Finally, the town's sheriff pushed through the crowd and came over. He saw Helen still shouting like a madwoman and asked, "What's wrong?"

"He's going to kill him."

"Who? Who wants to kill whom?" Helen's answer only confused the sheriff more.

"Inside the private room."

Finally, there's a slightly clearer answer.

The sheriff instructed, "Everyone, stay calm."

The commotion in the crowd gradually subsided, but no one, including Helen, noticed that the shadow of the hook on the ceiling had disappeared, leaving only white spots of light, as if nothing had happened.

Helen immediately broke free from the people holding her and hurriedly ran upstairs with the sheriff.

The emcee announced from the stage, "Please return to your seats, everyone. The situation is under control."

The townspeople gradually sat back down in their chairs.

"Please return to your seats, thank you!" The emcee's words made it sound as if what had just happened was merely a temporary performance inserted into the scene.

The sheriff, holding a flashlight, cautiously walked up to the second floor.

Helen rushed forward eagerly, but the sheriff stopped her: "Miss, stay behind me."

Helen had no choice but to follow the sheriff, but once inside the private room, she searched everywhere for Barry's whereabouts.

The two men searched the darkness for a while, but it was like seeing a ghost; there was neither Barry nor any fisherman.

Helen stared incredulously at the ground in front of the railing; she was certain this was the spot. She had just witnessed the fisherman attack Barry right here—how could he be gone?

The sheriff turned off his flashlight and said angrily to Helen, "I have to tell you, I think this is absolutely..."

It's not funny either.

“He was just here,” Helen said, pointing to the ground.

"who?"

“Fisherman, he killed Barry.” Helen became agitated again.

"Who is Barry? Who are we talking about?" The sheriff sensed that the girl had probably experienced some kind of trauma, and he said to Helen, "

There's no one upstairs, let's go downstairs.

The sheriff pulled Helen toward the stairs. Helen looked back, distressed and bewildered. How could she believe that Barry had simply disappeared? Just minutes ago, he had been watching her so intently. Could someone tell her what had happened?

"Watch your step." The sheriff and Helen disappeared at the top of the stairs.

The emcee's voice drifted up to the second floor, but no one took it seriously: "Please be seated, everyone. It was a false alarm."

Only the bloodstains on the railing, dripping onto the floor in the dim light, proved that a tragedy had indeed just taken place here.

Julie finally drove home, the sharp screech of brakes shattering the stillness of the night, and she dashed into the house like an arrow.

Helen slumped into a chair backstage, her beautiful eyes swollen like two walnuts. She was now shrouded in fear and loneliness. Where was Barry? He must have met a terrible end. Fate was so cruel; why, just when she had rediscovered warmth, had it snatched Barry away from her again? What should she do now?

But in the sheriff's opinion, this girl was either mentally unstable or had a fight with her boyfriend and was traumatized. Today was Independence Day, and chaos was unacceptable; otherwise, he would lose face. So he said to Helen, "I'll bring..."

Go home, your parents will be very worried.

Helen didn't know how to convince him that what had just happened wasn't a hallucination. She insisted earnestly:

"You must believe me."

“Let me take you home.” The sheriff ignored him and stood up.

Helen composed herself, stood up in a daze, and looked at the gleaming laurel wreath in her hand.

The emcee reached out and grabbed the laurel wreath, saying politely but coldly, "I'm sorry, we need this."

"

Helen sighed, let go of his hand, and followed the sheriff away from the still noisy beauty pageant venue.

The living room lights were on, and Julie didn't even have time to sit down before turning on her computer and accessing the city library's browser.

I searched for information about "David Egan" on my computer.

"Hurry, hurry..." Julie anxiously tapped her fingers on the computer, sensing that she was close to uncovering the truth.

The dark streets were silent, as if it were a ghost town. No lights were on in any of the houses. Almost all the residents had gone to participate in the festival celebrations, either at the club or on the beach to watch the fireworks display.

A police car drove up smoothly.

In the driver's seat, the sheriff spoke casually to Helen: "So, a fisherman killed him."

?

“Yes,” Helen replied indignantly. The barbed wire fence in the center of the carriage imprisoned her in the back seat, a feeling that made her extremely uncomfortable.

"Did he use the same hook to cut your hair?" the sheriff said, chuckling as he couldn't help but laugh. The story was hilarious.

"No, with scissors. You bastard!" Helen was furious; she couldn't tolerate anyone joking about something that threatened her life. Even with the barbed wire around her, her voice pierced the sheriff's heart.

The sheriff, having been rebuffed, shut his mouth in annoyance.

The feeling of being completely disbelieved was unbearable, and Helen still clung to a sliver of hope. She had to convince the sheriff; otherwise, who else could she turn to for help? She leaned over the barbed wire and said, "I know this looks like wishful thinking..."

I want to, but it's true.