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Chapter 520 Day of Destiny
Frank's body trembled, and he couldn't stand still. Thanks to the fence behind him, he managed to steady himself and not fall to the ground. Frank's feet naturally stepped onto the carpet again, and the carpet, soaked with Red Liquid, made a 'squish' sound once more.
This time, the force of the step was undoubtedly much greater than before. Even the Red Liquid in the blanket was splashed up, and the already not-so-clean trouser legs were now stained with a patch of blood red.
Without hesitation, Frank immediately turned around, supported himself on the fence with his hand, and jumped out of the porch. As soon as he landed, Frank took off his upper body clothes and spread it on the ground. Then, he began searching for stone blocks in the grass and collected them all on the clothes.
Soon, Frank had collected enough stone blocks. He wrapped the clothes up again, making it into a simple meteor hammer. Carrying this bundle of stone, he ran to the other side of the house. On this side of the wall was a large window, which was the position of the house's kitchen.
Frank grabbed the sleeves that were deliberately left out with both hands and used all his strength to smash it against the window.
"Crash!" The glass shattered in response. Using the sleeves he held in his hand to retract the meteor hammer, Frank unbuttoned it and poured all the stone inside onto the ground. He only picked up a suitably sized piece and began cleaning the glass shards from the window, and then spread his upper clothes on the window sill.
Supporting himself on the window sill covered with clothes with both hands, Frank smoothly climbed into the house through the window. The first thing Frank did upon entering the house was to pick up a kitchen knife from the knife rack and tear off an apron from the side to tie the kitchen knife to his hand with it.
After doing all this, Frank began to observe the surrounding environment. To his relief, there was nothing unusual in the kitchen. On the dining table were place settings for five people, along with a large vegetable salad and a large basket of bread. On the stove, there was also a large pot, from which a continuous stream of steam was rising.
Frank approached and took a look. Inside, Basque Chicken Stew, one of his wife's specialties, was being stewed. Because a large pot could be made at once, it was very convenient.
After checking the kitchen, Frank tiptoed to the corridor. As soon as he reached the corridor, he saw his father Mario. At this moment, this traditional, tough, old white man was holding a Winchester, leaning against the wall of the corridor, sitting on the ground. A scarlet trace from the crown of his head extended to the ground and connected with a pool of fresh blood.
Frank turned his head and happened to see his mother Louisa. At this moment, she was kneeling in front of the door, her head weakly resting against the door. From the terrifying blood hole in her back and the pool of blood beneath her, one could understand why the carpet at the doorway was wet.
Frank was extremely grateful that he had used the apron to secure the kitchen knife in his hand; otherwise, that knife might very well have slipped from his hand and fallen to the ground.
"Maria..." Even though he no longer held any hope, Frank still searched for his wife and a pair of daughters in the house. Finally, he arrived in front of a large wardrobe.
Looking at the blood seeping out from the crack of the wardrobe door, Frank's whole body trembled like a drowned quail. But he still reached out his hand tremblingly and opened the wardrobe door.
His wife Maria was hugging daughter Lisa, curled up and hiding inside the wardrobe. Both had stopped breathing. The extremely terrified expression left on their faces before death tore Frank's heart in two.
Frank never found his little Frank from beginning to end. Frank discovered a blood-red trace on the building leading to the second floor, a very obvious miracle of dragging.
Walking up to the second floor, Frank followed the bloodstains to the door of his son's room. Looking at the bloody handprint on the door handle, Frank was silent for a while, then put his hand on it, turned the handle, and opened the door.
Before the door was fully opened, an ugly human head poked out from the door seam, smiling at Frank with his disgusting face and said, "Hello, Dad!"
Frank ignored the madman he didn't recognize in front of him. He looked through the door seam into the room and happened to see his son Little Frank. At this moment, he was lying on the bed. Although Frank could only see his son's face due to the angle of view, it could be seen from Little Frank's expression that he did not die peacefully.
Shifting his line of sight back to the face of the madman, looking at the other party's insane smile, Frank was silent for a while. Then he also smiled.
... "Shua! Shua!" In the backyard of the house, Frank, covered in blood, wielded a shovel and dug five large pits in the ground. Beside him, apart from the mountain of soil, there were only the corpses of the Castle family wrapped in bed sheets and curtains.
Letting out a long breath, Frank straightened his back and stuck the shovel into the soil. Then, one by one, he moved the corpses of his family members into their respective pits and finally buried them one by one.
It was dawn when Frank finished all this. He used the fence from his home to make five simple grave markers, and after marking each person's name, he inserted them into their respective grave mounds.
This was to make it easier to distinguish them later. It was impossible for Frank to keep his family here forever, nor could he let them be exposed corpses in the wilderness. He could only temporarily settle them here and wait until he had resolved everything before returning to properly bury them.
After doing all this, Frank returned to the house. He walked into the kitchen and placed the large pot of stewed chicken that had long since cooled down on the dining table and began to devour it. The familiar smell instantly filled his taste buds.
With each bite he took, the rage in Frank's heart grew stronger. He slammed the desk violently, picked up the kitchen knife from the side, and threw it towards the large pot on the stove beside him.
The kitchen knife smashed into the large pot, making a muffled sound. The huge force caused the large pot to lose its balance and fall from the stove. With a crash, the broth in the large pot spilled out.
That was not some normal dishes, but a pot of human. The reason it was said to be a pot of human was because the human in the pot was not only cut into a human torso, but even the internal organs were taken out of the abdominal cavity.
Based on the head full of scars, it could be vaguely recognized that the pot of human was the madman who had smiled at Frank before. The reason he was called a madman was because Frank couldn't get anything out of his mouth.
Even if Frank pried off all his nails, broke all his fingers and toes, and broke his limbs, he could only get some meaningless wails and mad ramblings. Frank finally gave up and killed the madman.
But Frank didn't believe that this madman killed his family. He didn't even have a gun on him. How could his dad, holding a Winchester, possibly die at the hands of a madman with a kitchen knife?
Frank couldn't understand it no matter how hard he tried until he saw the clothes of the madman. Although he didn't hold any hope, he still picked up that pile of clothes because Frank had recently torn them off roughly and thrown them aside for the convenience of interrogation.
"Clatter." Just as he picked up the clothes, a finger-thick cylindrical object fell out of the clothes and landed on the ground.
(End of Chapter)
Frank's body trembled, and he couldn't stand still. Thanks to the fence behind him, he managed to steady himself and not fall to the ground. Frank's feet naturally stepped onto the carpet again, and the carpet, soaked with Red Liquid, made a 'squish' sound once more.
This time, the force of the step was undoubtedly much greater than before. Even the Red Liquid in the blanket was splashed up, and the already not-so-clean trouser legs were now stained with a patch of blood red.
Without hesitation, Frank immediately turned around, supported himself on the fence with his hand, and jumped out of the porch. As soon as he landed, Frank took off his upper body clothes and spread it on the ground. Then, he began searching for stone blocks in the grass and collected them all on the clothes.
Soon, Frank had collected enough stone blocks. He wrapped the clothes up again, making it into a simple meteor hammer. Carrying this bundle of stone, he ran to the other side of the house. On this side of the wall was a large window, which was the position of the house's kitchen.
Frank grabbed the sleeves that were deliberately left out with both hands and used all his strength to smash it against the window.
"Crash!" The glass shattered in response. Using the sleeves he held in his hand to retract the meteor hammer, Frank unbuttoned it and poured all the stone inside onto the ground. He only picked up a suitably sized piece and began cleaning the glass shards from the window, and then spread his upper clothes on the window sill.
Supporting himself on the window sill covered with clothes with both hands, Frank smoothly climbed into the house through the window. The first thing Frank did upon entering the house was to pick up a kitchen knife from the knife rack and tear off an apron from the side to tie the kitchen knife to his hand with it.
After doing all this, Frank began to observe the surrounding environment. To his relief, there was nothing unusual in the kitchen. On the dining table were place settings for five people, along with a large vegetable salad and a large basket of bread. On the stove, there was also a large pot, from which a continuous stream of steam was rising.
Frank approached and took a look. Inside, Basque Chicken Stew, one of his wife's specialties, was being stewed. Because a large pot could be made at once, it was very convenient.
After checking the kitchen, Frank tiptoed to the corridor. As soon as he reached the corridor, he saw his father Mario. At this moment, this traditional, tough, old white man was holding a Winchester, leaning against the wall of the corridor, sitting on the ground. A scarlet trace from the crown of his head extended to the ground and connected with a pool of fresh blood.
Frank turned his head and happened to see his mother Louisa. At this moment, she was kneeling in front of the door, her head weakly resting against the door. From the terrifying blood hole in her back and the pool of blood beneath her, one could understand why the carpet at the doorway was wet.
Frank was extremely grateful that he had used the apron to secure the kitchen knife in his hand; otherwise, that knife might very well have slipped from his hand and fallen to the ground.
"Maria..." Even though he no longer held any hope, Frank still searched for his wife and a pair of daughters in the house. Finally, he arrived in front of a large wardrobe.
Looking at the blood seeping out from the crack of the wardrobe door, Frank's whole body trembled like a drowned quail. But he still reached out his hand tremblingly and opened the wardrobe door.
His wife Maria was hugging daughter Lisa, curled up and hiding inside the wardrobe. Both had stopped breathing. The extremely terrified expression left on their faces before death tore Frank's heart in two.
Frank never found his little Frank from beginning to end. Frank discovered a blood-red trace on the building leading to the second floor, a very obvious miracle of dragging.
Walking up to the second floor, Frank followed the bloodstains to the door of his son's room. Looking at the bloody handprint on the door handle, Frank was silent for a while, then put his hand on it, turned the handle, and opened the door.
Before the door was fully opened, an ugly human head poked out from the door seam, smiling at Frank with his disgusting face and said, "Hello, Dad!"
Frank ignored the madman he didn't recognize in front of him. He looked through the door seam into the room and happened to see his son Little Frank. At this moment, he was lying on the bed. Although Frank could only see his son's face due to the angle of view, it could be seen from Little Frank's expression that he did not die peacefully.
Shifting his line of sight back to the face of the madman, looking at the other party's insane smile, Frank was silent for a while. Then he also smiled.
... "Shua! Shua!" In the backyard of the house, Frank, covered in blood, wielded a shovel and dug five large pits in the ground. Beside him, apart from the mountain of soil, there were only the corpses of the Castle family wrapped in bed sheets and curtains.
Letting out a long breath, Frank straightened his back and stuck the shovel into the soil. Then, one by one, he moved the corpses of his family members into their respective pits and finally buried them one by one.
It was dawn when Frank finished all this. He used the fence from his home to make five simple grave markers, and after marking each person's name, he inserted them into their respective grave mounds.
This was to make it easier to distinguish them later. It was impossible for Frank to keep his family here forever, nor could he let them be exposed corpses in the wilderness. He could only temporarily settle them here and wait until he had resolved everything before returning to properly bury them.
After doing all this, Frank returned to the house. He walked into the kitchen and placed the large pot of stewed chicken that had long since cooled down on the dining table and began to devour it. The familiar smell instantly filled his taste buds.
With each bite he took, the rage in Frank's heart grew stronger. He slammed the desk violently, picked up the kitchen knife from the side, and threw it towards the large pot on the stove beside him.
The kitchen knife smashed into the large pot, making a muffled sound. The huge force caused the large pot to lose its balance and fall from the stove. With a crash, the broth in the large pot spilled out.
That was not some normal dishes, but a pot of human. The reason it was said to be a pot of human was because the human in the pot was not only cut into a human torso, but even the internal organs were taken out of the abdominal cavity.
Based on the head full of scars, it could be vaguely recognized that the pot of human was the madman who had smiled at Frank before. The reason he was called a madman was because Frank couldn't get anything out of his mouth.
Even if Frank pried off all his nails, broke all his fingers and toes, and broke his limbs, he could only get some meaningless wails and mad ramblings. Frank finally gave up and killed the madman.
But Frank didn't believe that this madman killed his family. He didn't even have a gun on him. How could his dad, holding a Winchester, possibly die at the hands of a madman with a kitchen knife?
Frank couldn't understand it no matter how hard he tried until he saw the clothes of the madman. Although he didn't hold any hope, he still picked up that pile of clothes because Frank had recently torn them off roughly and thrown them aside for the convenience of interrogation.
"Clatter." Just as he picked up the clothes, a finger-thick cylindrical object fell out of the clothes and landed on the ground.
(End of Chapter)
