Who is the person who killed J.M?
The manuscript ends with this sentence.
As if being tied up, I was momentarily lost in thought.I desperately want to know the "answer", but my tired brain cells seem to be rusted and just keep idling.
...On the thoroughfare in front of the apartment building, a coal-black street promotional vehicle passed slowly.Under the hot summer sun-- The publicity vehicle was rolling over the sun-baked asphalt road, making a shrill radio sound.Even with the windows closed, the sound penetrated the house unscrupulously. Very unpleasant. It's not just because of the noise, the hysterical tone of the man in the car, ignoring the boundaries of the loudspeaker and turning up the volume to the level of roaring, the result is that he can't hear what the man is saying clearly, which is the source of the discomfort. The words that were spat out roughly, disappeared into the atmosphere before anyone could hear them clearly, the sad words... I couldn't stand it and looked away. As he left the window, he glanced at the sky through the gap between the drawn curtains. Cloudless.The summer sky is high and blue. How high and how blue! Such a sky scene can't help triggering an embarrassing memory for me. ...the blue sky of midsummer. It was the little square sky seen twenty-five years ago.Trapped in the dark underground, I look up to the sky alone. Being in a damp and dark place, I was exhausted after crying and screaming for a long time. I could only stare blankly at the sky. The sky cut into squares.The free and far-reaching azure blue is even more eye-catching compared with me who is sitting in a sleepy city. ... the endlessly noisy cicadas and the chirping of unknown bugs whispering in my ears.The shadows of birds flying soundlessly across the square sky.Unpleasant creatures lurking in the shadows are squirming around me... When I think of this, my heart still hurts like a needle prick, and my cheeks and neck are so itchy that I can't help scratching with my hands. That summer twenty-five years ago.It must have happened on a sunny day in mid-August.On that day, I... "What's the matter? Looks sad." Suddenly his voice came.The publicity vans on the street finally went away, and I sat down beside the bed. "Is the writing of the manuscript not going well? The reasoning novella that the magazine asked you to write is due at the end of the month, right?" While watching my face, he smiled and narrowed his eyes. "How many pages have you written?" "Not many pages." I muttered an answer.Then bend the lips into a herringbone. "Haha! It's so tragic, I can empathize with it. But generally speaking, after a few years of writing, any writer will experience a period of creative exhaustion. Especially the kind of novels you write are quite difficult: weird buildings, secret passages , Strange murder plot...I can't think of it often. Hey, I can't write it anyway, why don't you go fishing with me." "fishing?" I looked at him in surprise.A slight smile appeared on his handsome face. "That's a good idea." "No, thanks. It's too hot outside, and I'm afraid of sweating." "In summer, it's always hot. Especially in a place like Kyoto, which is located in the middle of the basin, the heat is unstoppable. My brother has lived here for more than 30 years. It's strange to think about it, the natural environment is like this How could it be possible to build a capital for more than a thousand years in such a harsh place? It seems that the ancestors have a strong ability to endure and adapt." He always has this kind of virtue: he never cares about my emotions, visits suddenly, and talks nonsense.Sometimes I really want to get angry, but it never happens. "It's better to live in a place with better weather conditions. Why are you obsessed with living here?" I shook my head slowly and replied, "Leave me alone for a while, okay?" After hearing this, he opened his arms as if sighing, and said, "It's still the same temper. It seems that I can't continue to let you live alone." "Please let me go. I'm fine on my own." "lie!" After he finished speaking, he couldn't help laughing. "I'm often worried about you, so I come here to check on you from time to time. Sometimes you want to alienate me, and I understand it, needless to say." He showed a look of seeing through everything. See through everything?Maybe it is.Because he has excellent observation, insight and thinking.He also has profound knowledge, good eloquence, painting skills and writing skills.If he is willing to write, he can definitely write novels that are much better than my generation. "Then, brother," he said earnestly, "even if you're not going fishing, you've got to make yourself feel better. You think so yourself." "Well, that goes without saying." "You might as well start by learning an instrument. How about I teach you how to play the guitar?" "No, for me." I responded with a mixed sigh, and then looked down silently at the left hand resting on my lap. I don't have a ring finger or little finger on my left hand. Toddlerhood—or the age before elementary school.At that time, I went to play in the wood factory run by my grandfather. I accidentally put my hand into the working chainsaw and lost two fingers.Why I made such a stupid move, I can't remember now.It seemed to be an accident that happened the moment I left my mother's sight.The father, irritated by his only son's hand injury, scolded the mother for being too careless. Speaking of my father, he was doing biology research in college at the time.He is a rough man.Not only this matter, but also often sternly reprimanded my mother on many other matters.Treat my only child with the same attitude.Even in front of others, he would yell at us and even be violent.But my mother never complained, nor did she want to leave, and she always followed what her husband told her to do.Perhaps as early as the beginning, the mother's means of active resistance have been deprived of by the father... ...don't think about it anymore.After all, that is already a problem for people who are not in this world. In short, no matter how good the teacher is to teach me to play the guitar, I can't play it well-hey!Didn't he know about this early on? "You have bad intentions!" I said and stood up from the bed. "I really don't understand you. You pose as my confidant, but you don't really know me at all." "It surprises me that you have such an idea." His exaggerated body with arms outstretched was a full head taller than me.It's not that he's taller than average, it's that I'm too short.I had to look up to see his face, and naturally looked at his chest when I spoke. "Although I have been with you for such a long time, when I think about it carefully, I don't know anything about your experience until now. Where were you born? What is your educational background? What other friends do you have besides me? I haven't heard you mention it. So, it's a bit of a confidant..." "I do detective work, didn't you know about it early on?" Yes.He is a "detective". For me, who writes so-called mystery novels as a career, having such a friend is really rare. It seems that there is no reason for me to deliberately alienate him, rather, I should have affection for him.I admire his detective skills very much, and to a certain extent place great trust in him.but…… "You are one of my friends, there is no doubt about it. You have taken great care of me, and I am always grateful." I looked up at the expression on his face and continued: "However, I can't bear your excessive worry about me. Moreover, sometimes you like to talk about some annoying topics, which makes me unbearable. I really suspect that you are crazy." "Oh. Let me give you an example." "For example, about the topic of guitar just now, don't you know that I am not suitable for playing guitar?" He didn't answer anything, just stared at me quietly with eyes showing "really hopeless". "Sometimes, you bring some pieces of paper with inexplicable patterns printed on them. I looked and looked, and at least I saw three-dimensional portraits or something." "That's a three-dimensional image. Didn't you also see a three-dimensional image?" "Hmph, I've been looking at it for a long time and I can't see anything famous, I can only rely on my imagination..." "Did it hurt your self-esteem?" "—more or less." "If that's the case, I apologize to you." That's what he said, but there was still an expression of "really hopeless" in his eyes, and there was also a sense of compassion. I tried my best to resist the urge to blame him. Is it worth getting angry over trivial things? Feeling guilty, I turned my back on him, slowly left the bed, and walked towards the table next to the wall. As he passed the window, he glanced at the sky through the gap in the curtains.The square blue sky twenty-five years ago suddenly reappeared in my mind, and my body trembled uncontrollably...
"Are you reminded of the childhood memories of falling to the bottom of the well?" He brushed past me and sat on the edge of the bed, squinted at me and said: "That should have happened when I was ten years old. It has been twenty-five years ago." "Did I ever tell you that?" He stopped scratching his face, with a confident smile on his face, and said: "You tell me everything. I can't help but respond to your confidence." "—ah, uh." "It's the season like now. You go back to the countryside with your parents and stay at your uncle's house for a few days. There is an ancient well in the backyard of your uncle's house. You played around and fell into the well..." In the summer of the previous year, I met my uncle and the others doing well cleaning operations. People descended to the bottom of the well to fish out the sludge and dead leaves deposited at the bottom of the well. So I had the knowledge: "As long as you keep going down, you can reach the bottom of the well." It was a square ancient well made of stone. It was a sunny summer day— I sneaked out of the wide inner courtyard alone, and ran to the well to peek at the bottom of the well.It's so dark and cold in the middle of winter, it's better to say that it arouses my strong curiosity than it feels scary.It was after noon. Using buckets and ropes, I tried to descend to the bottom of the well.Don't you realize the danger?I can no longer reproduce my true feelings at that time. I only thought that I would be scolded if I was seen by others, so after confirming that there was no one around, I grabbed the two ropes hanging down from the pulley as the fulcrum with my hands. Stand with your feet in the bucket on one side, and support your body weight with both hands firmly grasping the rope hanging under the bucket on the other side.I tried to control the momentum not to be too violent, and slowly descended to the bottom of the well. But-- The unexpected happened, which was thought impossible.This rope can't support the weight of me who is only ten years old and far shorter than my peers. After the creaking sound of the pulley rotating for a while, the rope was suddenly cut.I didn't even have time to shout, and I fell to the bottom of the well with the bucket. Fortunately, Gu was not too deep, and I didn't suffer too much injury when I fell to the bottom of the well; moreover, the accumulated well water was not deep—it reached my chest at most, so I didn't drown.but…… "...The view of the sky from the bottom of the well is imprinted in my heart, and I will never forget it. So when I see the summer sky, I will think of the scene at that time." He continued to sit on the edge of the bed, twisting his neck and staring at me. "You tend to scratch your face and neck at times like these, and there must be a reason for that. Does it remind you of the physical discomfort you felt when you were stuck in a dark well waiting for rescue, for example? Snakes, rats, ants, or other nasty creatures walking around you..." what!He spoke as if he was there. After recovering from the shock of falling to the bottom of the well, I first tried to climb out of the well under my own strength.Feel the stone well wall with your hands, find a slight protrusion, hold it tightly with your fingers, and climb up... Whether you can succeed depends on mastering the essentials of climbing the rock wall. But soon I gave up.It took a lot of effort to climb to a height of one or two meters, and there is no longer any protrusion on the rock wall above this. Barely stretching out his arms to grope around, he lost his balance and fell back into the water.I did the same action several times in a row, but all ended in failure. I can only lament that I am short-handed and short-handed. Next I yelled for help.In the narrow space at the bottom of the well, the sound is deafening; but how loud is it when it reaches the outside of the well?I don't know.He shouted desperately for a while, but no one came to rescue him.I tried all my tricks, but they were declared ineffective. Soaking in the cold water at the bottom of the well, I could only stare blankly at the square sky that opened above my head.Dull pains began to appear everywhere in the body that had been injured by the fall.At this time, I deeply regretted that I should not come to the well to play, because there was nothing I could do, and a feeling of despair emerged spontaneously.What if no one finds out, and the night comes quietly—a sense of regret and powerlessness, as well as a rapidly expanding sense of anxiety and fear surround my whole body... ……what!what is this? "snake!" I gasped and exclaimed. "A big snake climbed up my body leaning on the wall of the well, from shoulder to neck to face..." I gave up trying to shake the snake off.In case the snake is poisonous, one bite from it will be fatal.I don't know who I heard said that as long as people don't show hostility, snakes won't bite people.so… Although goosebumps appeared all over my body, I desperately held my breath, waiting for the cold and creamy touch of this horrible creature to leave my body.Soon, the snake really left me. In the end, my uncle's family found me falling into the well near dusk. At any rate, it was pulled up from the bottom of the well to the surface.My mother found a few transparent snake scales stuck to my legs and face.She was so excited that her son was safe and sound.And my father, standing behind my mother with his arms folded, glared at me... "Ah! Brother, what is that thing?" When he asked a question in a solemn tone, I put down my hand that was scratching my face unconsciously. "Is it a manuscript written for this issue of the magazine? It's very important." He picked up the manuscript that was lying on the corner of the bed. "Haha, you just said you didn't write a few pages, did you mean to lie to me? No, no, maybe you want to give me a surprise." My memory suddenly jumped from the distant childhood to last night. "—Ah, is that? Sorry, it's not my manuscript." After that, my eyes fell on the notebook word processor on the table.Then shrugged and continued: "It was brought by Ms. Sangshan last night. Look, there is a big envelope on the bedside table. She put the manuscript in the envelope and sent it to me." I suddenly remembered something and continued: "By the way, I was just looking for my brother's opinion on this manuscript. Well, Mr. Detective came just in time." "Stop the compliment." He smiled wryly and said, "Can I read it?" "certainly." I nodded seriously and said, "You should also know her, from KXX General Hospital..." "Well, it's that beautiful female doctor." Her name was Tomokako Kuwayama, and she was a psychiatrist whom I went to see a few years ago and became a friend. I am about the same age as her.She is a great beauty.The chance of getting to know each other was that I was suffering from emotional disorder and went to K×× general hospital for diagnosis and treatment, and she was my attending physician. After spiritual counseling and simple medication, my condition improved quickly.During the treatment, she learned that I was a writer of mystery novels, and she became very interested in me.In addition, the residences of the two happened to be very close to each other, so she sometimes came to my residence to sit and sit. Speaking of this, please don't think that I have any intimate relationship with her, although people like me don't care about such things at all.I was as interested in her career as a psychiatrist as she was in my work, and that was the nature of our relationship. Because of this relationship, I have heard her tell many anecdotes and anecdotes about the "perverted patients" she encountered in the hospital for several years.Of course, too specific details and real names are withheld. For example, a murderer performed a monologue repeatedly every day in order to atone for his crime.Another patient who was disfigured by fire and had his legs amputated in a traffic accident lost his memory completely.Moreover…… Perhaps to put it bluntly and embarrassingly, the story she told happened to be an excellent subject for me to write a novel.In fact, I have written several excellent novellas based on the stories she told, with a little imagination.Therefore, like him as a "detective", she is also a very rare and good friend of mine. "It's written by the patients in rooms five and six of the psychiatric ward. It's very interesting. You might as well read it if you have time." "Five six four?" He chanted the room number over and over. "It seems to be a number with some meaning." He muttered to himself.Then he looked at me suddenly and asked: "What kind of patient is it?" "This is—" I was at a loss for words, and hurriedly searched the memory of last night. "Well, it seems to be a male paranoid patient who thinks he is a novelist." "Haha, that manuscript..." He smiled happily and said, "Maybe it's not someone else's business." "Stop making wisecracks!" I bit my lip. "He took a word processor into the ward, and then sat in front of it day and night, thinking hard about creating a masterpiece. How can you bear to satirize him?" "Typed on a word processor—" His eyes fell on the manuscript at hand. "Is it a novel?" "Probably so." "Where did you say that?" "Basically, it was written by the patient who is currently living in that ward. The content of the novel records a certain abnormal murder incident. It is quite a surreal and incredible story. After reading it, Ms. Kuangshan felt that the reasoning that should be recognized Writer to see." "So it's a speculative novel written by a mental patient." "I'm telling the truth." He snorted "hmm", stretched his curled up body, and flipped through the manuscript on his lap. "It's better to use it as your manuscript due at the end of the month." This is of course a joke.I replied, "Good idea." "But if you do what you say..." I dragged out the chair under the table and said as I sat, "But there is a fatal problem." "Oh! What's the question?" "This manuscript—no, let's call it a novel. As a mystery novel, it is just an unfinished work. In other words, it only has a part equivalent to the 'problem chapter'." "Ha ha." "The novel ends with the question of who the culprit is? But there is no 'solution' in the book." "Well, it's really troubling." He responded vaguely, but showed interest. "It seems." I took the opportunity to say, "We must invite professional detectives to help uncover the 'truth'." "Aren't you also a professional reasoning writer? Ms. Sangshan brought it to you because she wanted you to solve the mystery." "Perhaps so." I nod frankly, stroking my bearded chin. "I've read it twice, but I can't grasp the gist at all. From last night to now, my brain seems to be rusted and I can't move. This problem is always entangled in my heart, and I don't even have the thought to deal with my own manuscript." "I understand, understand." He cut off my speech, smiled at me and said: "My responsibility is to help you when you encounter difficulties. Well, let me read the manuscript first." I've been having weird dreams a lot lately.And I have the same dream almost every night.It makes me brood and lose my mind to do things. In fact, it is doubtful whether it can be judged arbitrarily as a pure "dream".This made me more and more worried. The time of dreaming is roughly before falling asleep - in the ambiguous zone between awakening and sleep, when the consciousness is hazy, and I don't know whether I am awake or asleep. The dream begins with words: words full of hatred. ……hateful! Who said this? Also, I don't hear it as "sound" and I don't see it as "words".Ah, how to express it?Hateful, hateful... The image of the "words" expressing this meaning directly shook my head-that's how I felt. ……hateful! Who is suing?I have no idea.But—although there is no theoretical basis for it—this "who" is likely to be a woman. ……hateful!hateful! She just kept complaining. ...the man ……hateful!hateful!hateful! After a while, someone's shadow slowly seeped out of his mind, this time it was a visual image.First, the outline of the whole body was presented, then the details gradually became clear, and finally a man's figure appeared. Ugly man! This is a very real ugly man, and I have never seen such an ugly man so far. Originally, there were only relative standards for beauty and ugliness, and with the changes of the times and society, the standards of beauty and ugliness were constantly changing.But this person's ugliness, I can use "absolutely ugly" to describe it.It seems that the ugliest things in the world are all rolled into one. Specifically, all parts of the body are intact: neither fat nor thin, neither tall nor short, with hands and feet. The same is true for the facial features. Excessively pale skin, baldness.Rolling eyes.flat nose.thick lips.Big buck teeth. Every organ can be said to be normal, but once these organs are pieced together, look at his face—— Very ugly! I can say without hesitation that I have never seen such an ugly man. ……hateful! The "words" of hate still echo in my head. ...the man ……hateful!hateful! Apparently, the hateful "words" were addressed to the ugly man who came to my mind as an image. ……hateful!hateful!hateful! Hate, which has grown to a fierce and insane level, is rooted in this "word". —At the same time, cowardice or fear. It also ferments into intense and crazy feelings, dancing in the form of "words". ……horrible! ……hateful ……Hate ...the man ……help! ……horrible! ……help! ……help! The ugly man's face also slowly enlarged.It seems that in response to this change, the image of the "sound" began to become disordered. The sound of swishing through the air...is this the sound of a whip? ……help! The voice coming over many obstacles... Is this the cry of a person? ……stop! The sound of several sharp weapons colliding.The sound of fingernails scraping glass.Some sort of mechanical sound driven at furious speed. ……please stop! Fading into close-up of the ugly face of the man.This "image" began to become chaotic with the high-pitched "sound" that intersected with it, and it didn't take long before it suddenly disappeared in the crimson droplets. The hatred and fear that swelled beyond the limit erupted together, and thus erupted in the form of words. ...Kill! Excited and frenzied: full of murderous intent. ……Kill him! she told. ……Kill him!Kill him! she ordered. ... must kill him! In the center of the world dyed crimson, a new "image" began to seep. Four aliens. ……Kill him! she ordered.Issue orders to them. ...the man ……Kill him! ... must kill him! Very strong "words". kill it.kill this man.Must kill him. The four aliens began to react subtly to her words: consternation, doubt, timidity, hesitation, and then joy. Her "words" at this stage suddenly became calm and deliberate. ...don't be noticed! ...don't leave evidence! ...not to be caught by the police! This is advice to them.It is necessary to kill "this man" without being caught by the police. ……horrible! A great sense of fear struck again. ……horrible!horrible!horrible! A certain type of mental patient often says that "electric waves" are sent to his head, and complains that someone has emitted electric waves to control his behavior. The doctors categorically denied that there was such a thing, and used the word "delusional" to characterize this type of mentally ill patients.But I don't think that's the case for all.For example, I have personal experience in this regard. I'm not an expert in physics, so I can't give a detailed and convincing explanation.In short, our human thoughts and longings can emit some kind of electromagnetic waves that are carried by particles that have not been known to us so far.Let me call this kind of electromagnetic wave "Missing Wave". Our brains often emit this kind of longing wave, but its energy is extremely weak, and ordinary people can't feel its existence at all. Perhaps, our brains already have a device for receiving thought waves, and most people don't feel it because the body's defense instinct works. In fact, wouldn't social life be in chaos if we could receive the thought waves emitted by others one by one?It's like if you can see all kinds of radio waves flying in the real world, what would the world be like? To prevent this from happening, we unconsciously shut down our receptivity.Imagine, around our spirit, erected a solid wall of separation.If the function of this dividing wall is not perfect, it will become one of the causes of certain psychotic symptoms.Further speculation, if someone has a particularly developed ability in this area and can control it freely, then he is a so-called "special function person". The above remarks are based on my own personal experience. To be honest, my own partition wall function is weaker than that of ordinary people. why?Perhaps it is easier to understand with "'wall' is too thin and too brittle" to explain. When the physical condition and mental state break down, the longing wave from someone who does not know can break through the thin and fragile "wall" and drive straight in.At such times, I would quickly become melancholy and hopeless, filled with unexplained uneasiness and terror. It can be said that these psychological reactions are all due to the "gift" of other people's thoughts. If the brain antenna can correctly capture the weak thought waves breaking through the "wall", it should be able to be interpreted and processed as objective information.It's a pity that my receptive ability is not good, so I have the above emotional reaction. Fortunately, I have been aware of the mechanism of this yearning wave for a long time, and I have mastered the method of consciously strengthening my fragile "isolation wall", so as to protect my spiritual stability. Therefore, I am different from the "delusions" of other patients in this psychiatric ward. In fact, my mental state remains completely normal, no different from ordinary people. So, why am I still living in this 564-room ward?There is of course a reason for this. The outside is filled with countless thoughts waves and particles, flying in the air, penetrating the walls and entering the room, attacking my heart wantonly.In order to block the waves of thoughts, I must always cheer up and maintain the strength of the "isolation wall". I was so exhausted from such a stressful life that I decided to self-isolate in the hospital.In other words, I wasn't in the hospital because I was crazy, I was in the hospital because I didn't want to be crazy. I fully explained my situation to the doctors, and they also expressed their understanding.They supported my work, so I was allowed to bring word processors and materials into the ward. In my eyes, this ward is an extremely comfortable workplace.To create literature that only I can write, in a non-stressful environment.Although Evans has stagnated recently, I think a breakthrough will be made soon.I am full of confidence, groaning and scrutinizing in front of the word processor every day. But…… I've been seeing that weird dream almost every night lately. I don't think it's just a "dream". In the ambiguous zone between waking and sleeping, it is the moment when my brain's "wall" is most vulnerable. When I am awake, I will consciously strengthen the "wall of separation".While sleeping, as far as I know from experience, the "wall" will automatically surround the mind and prevent any foreign matter from entering.Therefore, the problem often occurs in the vague consciousness zone that seems to be sleeping but not sleeping. In that state, a thought wave from someone invaded my mind, and I saw that weird dream. That "words", that "image", that "sound"... being able to experience such vivid objects in a dream shows that the wave of longing is quite strong.This means that near me, there are people who have reached the level of "supernatural powers" and have powerful firing abilities beyond ordinary people.Every night, the above messages are emitted from the mind of this person (…her?), intentionally or not. The more I think about it, the more I feel like this is the case. So where is this person?Is it in this ward? To tell you the truth, I have a clue. In the deepest part of the fifth floor on the same floor as Room 564 where I live—at the end of the winding and winding corridor, there is a locked solid iron gate, and inside it there are double iron doors , so that it is completely isolated from the outside world. A few days ago, I stumbled upon such an isolation ward.Because I am not a dangerous patient, the doctor allowed me to leave the ward and walk around the ward. Later, I asked the nurse I knew, who lived inside the iron gate?The young nurse replied decisively: "I don't know." Under my repeated pleading, the nurse added: "That room is called a 'special ward', and I can't go in either. Only senior nurses can enter." That's what I mean by a little clue. The fifth floor of the psychiatric ward of K×× General Hospital is located in the innermost "special ward". Could the sender of the longing wave that caused me to have strange dreams frequently be one of the patients isolated inside the iron gate? If so, what is the origin of this superpower?or…… With all these problems in my mind, I couldn't concentrate on my work at all. As mentioned above, I was admitted to the hospital in order to avoid the flood of longing waves and concentrate on writing. What I didn't expect was the opposite effect, which troubled me. How to deal with it?After much deliberation, I decided to talk about this issue with the kind and friendly attending physician, Ms. K. "Is it four aliens?" After listening to my general explanation, the female doctor muttered while pushing her glasses.She was a very young--about thirty-five years old--a psychiatrist.The neat face with light makeup is even more solemn under the background of rimless glasses. "Then what kind of alien do you see?" The female doctor asked me: "Is it a person? Or is it not a person?" "I think it's people." I stared at the other person and replied bluntly: "But it is very deformed...so I call it an alien." "What does it look like?" "One of them--" I carefully searched for the "image" imprinted in my memory, and tried to express it in words as follows: "There is only one eye, located in the center of the face. It is a big eye, like a one-eyed beast..." The female doctor listened with bated breath.I continued: "Bald. No clothes. The height of a male high school student... maybe a teenager. The nose and mouth are the same as ordinary people, but there is only one eye." Children with congenital deformities called monocularism.But in that case, it is often accompanied by incomplete development such as a missing nose, and in most cases it dies at birth... "What about the second person?" The female doctor urged softly.She looked a little unnatural. "Slightly taller than the first one-eyed boy, with a weak body that can't even stand on his feet, extremely pale complexion, and a thin face." I replied: "It seems that he is also a man. However, he has three hands. In addition to the left and right hands, there is also a thin hand suddenly born on the heart." Like the previous "one-eyed", for the second alien, there is also an extremely rare case of so-called multi-limbed deformity. "Three hands..." The female doctor's expression became more and more unnatural. "Is this man not wearing clothes?" "Hmm. So I can tell he's male." I continued: "The third alien is very short, about one meter in height, and can be regarded as a dwarf. But he does not belong to the dwarf defined by dwarfism." "What's the meaning?" "The back is hunched so badly..." "Is that a hunchback?" "Yes. But it's not the same as a normal hunchback. There are two large tumors on the humpback, and the head is lower than these two large tumors. It looks like the face of a xiphoid conjoined twin." "Is he male? Or female?" "It's probably a male. It gives the impression of a boy with disheveled hair. His complexion is also poor, and his face seems a little swollen." "What about the last person?" "The fourth also appears to be male. He is the tallest of the four, almost twice as tall as the third. But his thin body is covered with a layer of skin that resembles reptilian scales, and his face is also covered with scales." ;Are you suffering from some kind of strange skin disease? You have to consult a dermatologist.” "Did the woman who launched the 'Missing Wave' issue a 'kill' order to these four people, instigating them to 'kill that man'?" "yes." "What does that woman look like? Can you see clearly?" "I don't know." I shook my head wildly from side to side. "Well, one-eyed boy...a man with one hand, a hunchback with two big bumps on his back, a tall man covered in snake scale skin..." The female doctor lowered her eyes and muttered to herself, then fell silent.Obviously, what I said had a big impact on her. "It cannot be thought of as a coincidence." After a while, she muttered.She lightly pressed the nose bridge of her glasses with her fingers, shook her head slowly for a while, then seemed to have made up her mind, and cast her gaze at me resolutely. "I don't know how to explain it. Gu Dan doesn't care if the thing 'Missing Wave' exists or not. In short, as one of those who know the truth, I hope you keep silent and act as if you didn't hear or see it..." "The truth?—then..." I stared at the female doctor's well-groomed face, and asked anxiously, "Is that woman really there? Inside that iron gate?" "yes." The female doctor nodded slowly, and then added: "It's not just her. The four aliens you saw in your dream also live in that 'special ward'." "Oh!" "One-eyed, three-armed, hunchback with two bumps, and snakeskin man, they all actually exist, and they are also kept in the room behind the iron gate." "Ah, ah..." I moan softly. "But, doctor, how could they be imprisoned in..." "Because of a horrible incident." The female doctor replied calmly.The blunt expression and trembling tone just now have disappeared without a trace. “那是一件完全超出常理的事件，警察当局竭力不让消息外泄。传媒方面似乎也没有对比提出强烈抗议，毋宁说对采访和报导采取了极为自律的态度。” "Oh!" “或许，在目前的日本，是不允许对那样的事做大肆报导的。因为事件太恐怖、太凄惨……简直不敢相信这世上会有这种事发生。” 虽然女医师反覆强调“恐怖”这个字眼，但我还是想像不出具体的悲惨情状。“猎奇杀人”这可怕的词汇蓦然在我脑际浮现。 “他们五人统统与事件有关。警方只调查了一会儿，很快便秘密地把他们送来医院。警方确认这五人无论在肉体上或精神上都处于严重的患病状态，于是选定这所医院的'特别病房'作为收容场所。” “他们在这里接受治疗吗？” “哼，治疗……什么的？什么叫治疗？做怎样的治疗才算合理？有谁说得清？” 女医师淡然说道：“很可能，把他们送来这里只是为了避开世间耳目而已。他们的命运是从黑暗走向黑暗。” “从黑暗到黑暗？……” “或许，对他们来说这是最好的结局。但就我个人而言，这样的处置方法是否最好，我是抱持怀疑态度的。也有一部分知道这些患者存在的医生和护士都有这种看法。” “可是，说到现在，我还不知道发生了什么事件呀？”我加强语气问道。 “杀呀！杀死那男人！一定要杀死他！”——那女人命令四个异形杀人的激烈“言词”又在我脑际鲜活地复苏了。 “究竟是怎么一回事呢？” "Do you want to know?" 女医师眯着眼说道。 “对，快说给我听。” 我立即回答：“要不然，我……我想那个思念波今晚又会侵袭我的脑子，我……” “——原来如此。” 于是，她把事件的始末娓娓道来。这的确是一件难以置信的离奇杀人事件。 J. M 这是事件核心人物的男子的姓名字母缩写（女医师避免说出真实姓名）。 四十二岁，独身，没有结过婚。大学医学院毕业后马上进大学研究所从事医学研究，但中途退学，返回老家。 此后几年，J. M又离开故乡城镇，移到某个山村（具体地名隐藏其名）独居。他的家建造在村子尽头，是一座与周围优美风景不相称的无机混凝土建筑物。虽然位处村庄之外的森林里，但建筑物的周围用高墙围住，大门仿佛拒绝来客似地永远紧闭。看起来，更像一座秘密的研究所。 “J. M从双亲那儿继承了巨额遗产，即使不做事，也可以悠哉游哉地过一辈子……不，一辈子也花不完他拥有的财富。” K女士如此说明。 “虽然如此，为什么他不做医生和科学研究者，年纪轻轻的就到山村隐居呢？显然，这是有特别理由的——” 她一边看我的反应，一边继续说： “J. M是个非常丑陋的男人，这便是他离群索居的最大理由了。” 丑陋男人！ 不用说，她说的话，马上与我每夜梦见的那个男人的脸孔衔接起来了。 “实际上，他到底'丑'到何种程度？如何'丑'法？对于没有见过他尊容的我来说，是无法做出确切说明的。大致而言，他的五官既不欠缺也不过剩，但各种器官拼凑在一起，就成为人见人嫌的大丑怪了。” Yes!exactly. 我在梦中见到的那男人的脸孔又在我的脑际浮现。 过分苍白的皮肤、秃头、滴溜溜转的双眼、扁鼻子、厚嘴唇、大艳牙。 每种器官都是正常的，但一旦把这些器官拼凑起来，再看他的尊容…… 那个男人——那个丑男人，正是女医生所说的J. M其人了。 “显然，他人的劣评深深刺伤了他的心。从幼年期到思春期再到青年期，他经受了何种具体的体验我不得而知，但关于自己长相丑陋的劣等意识日积月累而膨胀起来：自己丑！非常丑！世界上没有比自己更丑的人了……自卑感就这样往恶质方向无止境地发展。 “不知如何是好，听说整容手术也做过好几次，但并不能解决问题。或许到了那个地步，最大的问题已经不是外貌，而是开始扭曲的心理了。他离开大学研究所，到人迹罕至的偏僻地方隐居，恐怕就是扭曲心理作祟。简言之，一切问题都是因相貌丑陋而起。” 女医师的语调虽然还是一成不变的淡定，但她说到此处稍停，好像要使自己冷静下来似地喘了几口大气。 “森林中的那个家，J. M一直住了十几年。听说购物之类全赖佣人，他自己足不出户。村民们也绝不接近这座阴森森的建筑。所以在很长的时间里，他在这座形同秘密实验室的屋子里偷偷干的那些恶魔般的勾当，竟无人知晓。” 事件发生在初夏的某个晚上。第一个向警方通报的人，是翌日上午依约去J. M家的律师T（这里也隐藏其真实姓名）。 T是刚于一个月前被介绍与J. M相识的年轻律师。原来的顾问律师由于发生意外事故不得不长时间停职，因此之故，让同一事务所的T继承业务。这一次T来J. M家访问，是与J. M的第二度见面。 约定见面时间是上午十点半。 一面从记忆中搜索前次来访时的行车路线，T跌跌撞撞地开车来到这个山村。前半夜下了一场大雨，道路泥泞不堪，刚于两天前洗过的车身溅满了泥浆。迷了几次路，最后到达J. M宅邱已经是十点五十分，比约见时间迟了二十分钟。 T从前任律师处获悉J. M是一个非常爱挑剔的男人。 前任律师还提出忠告，为了不触怒对方，必须谨言慎行，严格按对方指示办事。与对方谈话的时候，应目不旁视地看着对方的脸，不可露出胆怯之色。脸上宜带微笑，但不可大笑等等。 虽然J. M提供破格的高报酬，但想到要与那个讨厌的男人面对面地相处几个小时，心中就感到痛苦。T在内心里真心真意地期盼前任律师早日重返工作岗位。 车子在大门口停下。按下门柱上的对讲机。上一回也是这么做的，一名初老的男佣很快就跑出来了。但这一次情况有异，按了多次对讲机，却无人回应。 嗅！想起来了。 前天与J. M通电话确认今天会面时间时，记得J. M说过，家中的佣人因身体突感不适，紧急入院了。 那么，今天只有那男人一人在家了。 T自行推开大门进入，踏上往玄关的小路。这条小路也因昨夜的豪雨变得很泥泞，昨天刚擦得油亮的皮鞋可遭殃了。 前面耸立着二层楼箱型建筑物，整面墙壁是略脏的灰色混凝土墙，见不到窗户：玄关门也没有任何装饰：是一扇结实的钢制大门。 按下装在大门旁的电铃，屋内没有回应。稍等一会再按铃，仍无回应。 反覆按了多次都不见屋内有回应后，T死心了，决定打道回府。不辞辛苦来到这偏僻的鬼地方却白跑一趟，T禁不住怒火中烧。但转头一想，今日终于用不着应酬那讨厌的男人了，反而觉得松了一口气。 T正准备离开玄关时：哭然听到门内发出窸窸窣窣的声响。他蓦然回头。 这是数人的脚步声。然后，又传出似乎在讨论某事的叽哩咕噜声… J. M应该在此单身独居，男佣因为住院去了，不在家中。那么，是否家中来了客人，而且有好几位。 正在考虑之间：玄关门突然打开。当屋内人形映现在T的视网膜上时，T禁不住大声惊呼。 出现在眼前的是非人生物。难道这世上真的有妖魔鬼怪吗？T吓得魂飞天外。 但惊魂甫定，他醒悟到或许是误解了：站在面前的绝非“非人生物”。 “那时候我真吓得站都站不住了。” 事后他心有余悸地说道：“从门后突然出现一个鼻子上面只长着一只眼睛的小妖怪。” 看来，首先映入他眼帘的是我在梦中见到的异形之一——“独眼” “独眠”是男性一看即知，因为他一丝不挂，全裸出场。 如何解释眼前的景象呢？T心乱如麻，不敢多想，扭转身，还是三十六计走为上策吧。 "please wait!" “独眼”出声了，把T叫住。 “想请您帮忙，我们很困扰。” 这是一口尚处于前变声期的少年声音，用很标准的日语说出。胆怯而无奈的语气。T鼓起勇气，正面面对“独眼”。冷静地打量对方，发现除了一只眼以外，其他方面与普通人一样。虽然头皮秃顶，但他大腿间的阴毛尚未长全，说明他还只有“少年”的年纪。 既不是妖魔，也不是鬼怪，T自忖着。对方是人类中的少年。他能说话与人沟通，脑子看来也不笨… “你，叫什么名字呢？” T下定决心与对方会话。 “名字嘛……嗯。” 少年困惑地歪着头。 “平时爸爸叫我'独眼'，这是不是我的名字？” “你爸爸？”T惊奇地问道：“难道就是住在此地的J. M先生？” “对，他就是爸爸。” “有这种……” T张口结舌说不出话来了，唯有再仔细地打量一番这异形少年的脸孔。 从体格等方面来观察，估计这少年约莫十二、三岁左右。他真的是那位J. M先生的儿子？如果真的是他儿子的话，为什么不给他取个名字，仅仅以“独眼”相称？ “那么，你爸爸现在在什么地方？”经T这么一问，那少年的脸上明显地露出怯懦之色。“我们觉得很困扰，不叫警察不行吗？” "Policemen?" 突然从少年的嘴巴里说出警察的字眼，T更感惊诧和不可思议了。 "Who are you?" “我在电视上看过杀人事件。爸爸也被杀死了。” “J. M先生被杀？” T厉声问道：“他在哪里？被谁杀了？” "In the basement." 少年怯生生地回答。他一边缓缓地摇头，一边继续说道： “不知道凶手是谁。警察很可怕。我们怕被警察怀疑。爸爸常说，我们不是普通人，但也不是妖魔鬼怪。警察少见多怪，看到我们的样子一定会起疑。如果我们变成嫌疑杀人犯，那就太可怕了。”看到少年着急得快要哭出来了，T赶忙说“不要紧”来安慰他。 “没关系，不周怕。警察不是坏人。” "But……" “你爸爸真的被杀死了吗？如果是真的话，那得赶快和警方联络啰。屋里有电话吗？快打一一〇” “可是，我们……” “什么'我们、我们'的？难道屋里还有其他人吗？” 少年点头。 T向半开着的玄关大门里面看去。正在此时，少年的三个伙伴一个接一个地现身了。 他们和“独眼”一样，不穿衣服。三人均为男性。而且，都是T从未见到过的异形。 已经没有必要说明了。“三只手”、“驼子”、“蛇皮男”——在T面前出现的正是我梦见的异形中的其他三人。 对T来说，这简直是一场恶梦。但站在面前的这四个异形又明明是“真人”，绝非用特殊材料制作的模型。 根据“独眼”的说明，那三人同他一样，都是J. M的儿子。而且，没有一个有自己的正式名字。“爸爸”说按年龄大小分别叫他们为“驼子”、“独眼”、“蛇皮男”、“三只手”。可是，他们也不清楚自己究竟几岁了。稍后，他们又说在二楼还有一位年龄最大的“姐姐”，她不能走路，所以不能下到地下室。 听着少年结结巴巴的说明，完全不像是编造出来的谎话。其他三人配合少年的每一句话，一个劲儿地点头附和。 T判定少年说的是真话。那么，J. M是在地下室被杀了…… 照理说应该马上拨一一〇报警才对。但T想亲眼目击一下现场再说。虽然对少年的话并不怀疑，但在好奇心驱使下，T决心见识一下恐怖场面。 but…… 几分钟后T便为自己的草率决定深感后悔。此后的好几天，他完全食不下咽。 在四个异形的导引下，T下到地下室，赫然见到令人恶心的J. M尸体。 两臂、两腿、头部完全与被脱成全裸的躯体切离，手臂与腿又被切割成几块。脸部的两颗眼球被剜出，鼻子被削落，嘴巴从唇端至颊部裂开成大缺口。躯体也一样，从胸部至下腹部被切开，体内脏器都被挖出来了。被血沫染得鲜红的地下室，弥漫着恶臭。T顿时感到头昏眼花，几欲作呕。 “J. M这个男人，肯定是一个不可理喻的变态狂人。” K女士不理会我一边想像凄惨的杀人现场，一边不自觉按着胃部的痛苦样子，继续说道： “他们五人，显然不是J. M的亲生子女。既无出生纪录，在户籍中当然也无记载。说得贴切一点，他们可算是J. M的非正式养子养女。说得更直白一点，则不妨认为是J. M这个狂人饲养的可悲宠物。这里所谓的宠物，不是用来把玩，而是用来虐待。 “已进入妄想阶段的J. M，是他的样貌情结促使他犯下这种恶魔般的罪孽。自己长得太丑，而且找不到比自己更丑的人——这种劣等意识促使他发狂。为了消解样貌情结，他设想了一个疯狂的计划，并予以实施。这就是要创造比自己更丑的东西——至少他这么认为，将他们置于自己身边，并君临他们之上。 “让比自己更丑的人——至少他这么认为——置于身边，而且让他们清楚认识到丑陋，于是自己便相对地处于美的地位了。” 事件发生后，根据遗留在J. M书房里的日记等文件、五个“孩子”的证词、对长年为J. M服务的某佣人的盘问，以及调查曾被J. M用高额酬金雇用的计划参与者等，事件的脉络很快就弄清楚了。 十几年前，当J. M移居到森林里的那栋建筑物里后，他就开始实施这个恶魔计划。 他通过各种途径把黑手伸进各地医院，偷偷地购买和收集刚刚出生的畸形儿。通常，重度畸形儿即使活着生下来，也会做某种处置而当作死胎处理。虽然孕妇产前诊断技术已相当发达，但是生下畸形儿的特殊情形还是有的。 J. M出重金偷偷买下畸形儿，然后带回家中养育。但是，这样的试验都失败了。毕竟重度畸形儿的生命力非常微弱，养不多久就死了。不言而喻，婴儿的尸体都被秘密处理掉了。 于是，J. M修正他的恶魔计划。既然无法利用天然物，就索性用自己的双手制造更丑陋的畸形者。 “——人体改造？” 我喘息般地挤出声音。 "yes." K女士冷冷地点头。 “J. M改变了收集对象，从收购极罕见的重度畸形儿变为收买正常婴儿。除了去医院搜罗，他的黑手还伸到孤儿院。他对用非法手段买来的正常婴儿，亲手做各种整形改造手术。不用说，他充分利用了直至大学研究所为止的医学训练所取得的经验。或者不妨设想，他专攻医科的目的正在于此。” “如此说来，那五个人都是J. M亲手制造的人工异形吗？” “可以这么说。在那栋建筑物里，有一间房间布置得和医院手术室一样，室内摆满了各种外科器械和药品。这五人都接受过J. M的外科手术和服用药物，结果变成现在的形状。” “那不是很荒唐吗？” “我最初听到这样惊世骇俗的事时想法也和你一样。但那毕竟是事实。其证据就是目前羁留在'特别病房'里的那五名畸形者。经医学验证，他们的畸形完全由后天人工造成。” 我想再度说“荒唐”，但声音到了喉咙口又咽回去了。 “J. M这种疯狂的人体改造手术，在若干名婴儿或幼儿身上试行失败，致使这些试验者死亡。事后警方搜查那栋建筑物时，在内庭地下起出了多具白骨化尸体，经法医检定，几乎全部是未满三岁的婴儿。最后手术成功，并养育长大的'成功例子'，就是那五名'孩子'了。” "..." “'独眼'的一只眼、'鳞男'的皮肤，都是人工造成的。'驼子'也一样，强制性地使其脊椎骨弯曲，两个瘤的成形手术则在婴儿期施行。” “那么'三只手'呢？是在正常的孩子身上移植一只手上去吗？” “警方在内庭地下挖出一具缺少一只手的白骨化尸体。或许死者与'三只手'是一对孪生儿，故移植一只手上去并未出现排斥反应。” 在我脑际，又浮现出了曾经几度梦见的那个男人——J. M的丑陋模样，感到一阵嗯心。如果说这世界上存在着“科学狂人”的话，那就是J. M了。 “还有一个人呢？” 我问道：“就是第五人——年纪最大的'姐姐'，她是怎么回事？” “她嘛——” 白皙端正的脸突然扭曲了。 “她叫做'芋虫'。（编注：这个词在？又俗语中亦有'讨厌的人'之意。）双手与双腿被切离，只留下躯体和头部活着。舌头也被拔掉了，所以无法说话。据J. M留下的的日记中记载，这是他的第一号'成功作品'。” “——其他妈地残忍！” 我呕吐似地喃喃说着，脑中想像在那扇铁门后某一间单人房中，独自躺在床上的人的样子。 不能走路、不能持物，甚至不能说话。这样的伤残女子不知不觉中拥有了与众不同的发射强力思念波的超能力。 显然，最近每晚见到的梦，都是我的大脑接收了她发出的思念波的结果。 ……可恨！ 这表示她对“那个男人”恨之入骨。 ……可怕！ ……恐怖！ 这表示她怕J. M。 ……help! ……停手！ ……请停手！ 那一定是J. M在虐待（凌辱？）她了。她发出呼救声。 ……杀呀！ 这明显表达了她对J. M的杀意。可是，
...On the thoroughfare in front of the apartment building, a coal-black street promotional vehicle passed slowly.Under the hot summer sun-- The publicity vehicle was rolling over the sun-baked asphalt road, making a shrill radio sound.Even with the windows closed, the sound penetrated the house unscrupulously. Very unpleasant. It's not just because of the noise, the hysterical tone of the man in the car, ignoring the boundaries of the loudspeaker and turning up the volume to the level of roaring, the result is that he can't hear what the man is saying clearly, which is the source of the discomfort. The words that were spat out roughly, disappeared into the atmosphere before anyone could hear them clearly, the sad words... I couldn't stand it and looked away. As he left the window, he glanced at the sky through the gap between the drawn curtains. Cloudless.The summer sky is high and blue. How high and how blue! Such a sky scene can't help triggering an embarrassing memory for me. ...the blue sky of midsummer. It was the little square sky seen twenty-five years ago.Trapped in the dark underground, I look up to the sky alone. Being in a damp and dark place, I was exhausted after crying and screaming for a long time. I could only stare blankly at the sky. The sky cut into squares.The free and far-reaching azure blue is even more eye-catching compared with me who is sitting in a sleepy city. ... the endlessly noisy cicadas and the chirping of unknown bugs whispering in my ears.The shadows of birds flying soundlessly across the square sky.Unpleasant creatures lurking in the shadows are squirming around me... When I think of this, my heart still hurts like a needle prick, and my cheeks and neck are so itchy that I can't help scratching with my hands. That summer twenty-five years ago.It must have happened on a sunny day in mid-August.On that day, I... "What's the matter? Looks sad." Suddenly his voice came.The publicity vans on the street finally went away, and I sat down beside the bed. "Is the writing of the manuscript not going well? The reasoning novella that the magazine asked you to write is due at the end of the month, right?" While watching my face, he smiled and narrowed his eyes. "How many pages have you written?" "Not many pages." I muttered an answer.Then bend the lips into a herringbone. "Haha! It's so tragic, I can empathize with it. But generally speaking, after a few years of writing, any writer will experience a period of creative exhaustion. Especially the kind of novels you write are quite difficult: weird buildings, secret passages , Strange murder plot...I can't think of it often. Hey, I can't write it anyway, why don't you go fishing with me." "fishing?" I looked at him in surprise.A slight smile appeared on his handsome face. "That's a good idea." "No, thanks. It's too hot outside, and I'm afraid of sweating." "In summer, it's always hot. Especially in a place like Kyoto, which is located in the middle of the basin, the heat is unstoppable. My brother has lived here for more than 30 years. It's strange to think about it, the natural environment is like this How could it be possible to build a capital for more than a thousand years in such a harsh place? It seems that the ancestors have a strong ability to endure and adapt." He always has this kind of virtue: he never cares about my emotions, visits suddenly, and talks nonsense.Sometimes I really want to get angry, but it never happens. "It's better to live in a place with better weather conditions. Why are you obsessed with living here?" I shook my head slowly and replied, "Leave me alone for a while, okay?" After hearing this, he opened his arms as if sighing, and said, "It's still the same temper. It seems that I can't continue to let you live alone." "Please let me go. I'm fine on my own." "lie!" After he finished speaking, he couldn't help laughing. "I'm often worried about you, so I come here to check on you from time to time. Sometimes you want to alienate me, and I understand it, needless to say." He showed a look of seeing through everything. See through everything?Maybe it is.Because he has excellent observation, insight and thinking.He also has profound knowledge, good eloquence, painting skills and writing skills.If he is willing to write, he can definitely write novels that are much better than my generation. "Then, brother," he said earnestly, "even if you're not going fishing, you've got to make yourself feel better. You think so yourself." "Well, that goes without saying." "You might as well start by learning an instrument. How about I teach you how to play the guitar?" "No, for me." I responded with a mixed sigh, and then looked down silently at the left hand resting on my lap. I don't have a ring finger or little finger on my left hand. Toddlerhood—or the age before elementary school.At that time, I went to play in the wood factory run by my grandfather. I accidentally put my hand into the working chainsaw and lost two fingers.Why I made such a stupid move, I can't remember now.It seemed to be an accident that happened the moment I left my mother's sight.The father, irritated by his only son's hand injury, scolded the mother for being too careless. Speaking of my father, he was doing biology research in college at the time.He is a rough man.Not only this matter, but also often sternly reprimanded my mother on many other matters.Treat my only child with the same attitude.Even in front of others, he would yell at us and even be violent.But my mother never complained, nor did she want to leave, and she always followed what her husband told her to do.Perhaps as early as the beginning, the mother's means of active resistance have been deprived of by the father... ...don't think about it anymore.After all, that is already a problem for people who are not in this world. In short, no matter how good the teacher is to teach me to play the guitar, I can't play it well-hey!Didn't he know about this early on? "You have bad intentions!" I said and stood up from the bed. "I really don't understand you. You pose as my confidant, but you don't really know me at all." "It surprises me that you have such an idea." His exaggerated body with arms outstretched was a full head taller than me.It's not that he's taller than average, it's that I'm too short.I had to look up to see his face, and naturally looked at his chest when I spoke. "Although I have been with you for such a long time, when I think about it carefully, I don't know anything about your experience until now. Where were you born? What is your educational background? What other friends do you have besides me? I haven't heard you mention it. So, it's a bit of a confidant..." "I do detective work, didn't you know about it early on?" Yes.He is a "detective". For me, who writes so-called mystery novels as a career, having such a friend is really rare. It seems that there is no reason for me to deliberately alienate him, rather, I should have affection for him.I admire his detective skills very much, and to a certain extent place great trust in him.but…… "You are one of my friends, there is no doubt about it. You have taken great care of me, and I am always grateful." I looked up at the expression on his face and continued: "However, I can't bear your excessive worry about me. Moreover, sometimes you like to talk about some annoying topics, which makes me unbearable. I really suspect that you are crazy." "Oh. Let me give you an example." "For example, about the topic of guitar just now, don't you know that I am not suitable for playing guitar?" He didn't answer anything, just stared at me quietly with eyes showing "really hopeless". "Sometimes, you bring some pieces of paper with inexplicable patterns printed on them. I looked and looked, and at least I saw three-dimensional portraits or something." "That's a three-dimensional image. Didn't you also see a three-dimensional image?" "Hmph, I've been looking at it for a long time and I can't see anything famous, I can only rely on my imagination..." "Did it hurt your self-esteem?" "—more or less." "If that's the case, I apologize to you." That's what he said, but there was still an expression of "really hopeless" in his eyes, and there was also a sense of compassion. I tried my best to resist the urge to blame him. Is it worth getting angry over trivial things? Feeling guilty, I turned my back on him, slowly left the bed, and walked towards the table next to the wall. As he passed the window, he glanced at the sky through the gap in the curtains.The square blue sky twenty-five years ago suddenly reappeared in my mind, and my body trembled uncontrollably...
"Are you reminded of the childhood memories of falling to the bottom of the well?" He brushed past me and sat on the edge of the bed, squinted at me and said: "That should have happened when I was ten years old. It has been twenty-five years ago." "Did I ever tell you that?" He stopped scratching his face, with a confident smile on his face, and said: "You tell me everything. I can't help but respond to your confidence." "—ah, uh." "It's the season like now. You go back to the countryside with your parents and stay at your uncle's house for a few days. There is an ancient well in the backyard of your uncle's house. You played around and fell into the well..." In the summer of the previous year, I met my uncle and the others doing well cleaning operations. People descended to the bottom of the well to fish out the sludge and dead leaves deposited at the bottom of the well. So I had the knowledge: "As long as you keep going down, you can reach the bottom of the well." It was a square ancient well made of stone. It was a sunny summer day— I sneaked out of the wide inner courtyard alone, and ran to the well to peek at the bottom of the well.It's so dark and cold in the middle of winter, it's better to say that it arouses my strong curiosity than it feels scary.It was after noon. Using buckets and ropes, I tried to descend to the bottom of the well.Don't you realize the danger?I can no longer reproduce my true feelings at that time. I only thought that I would be scolded if I was seen by others, so after confirming that there was no one around, I grabbed the two ropes hanging down from the pulley as the fulcrum with my hands. Stand with your feet in the bucket on one side, and support your body weight with both hands firmly grasping the rope hanging under the bucket on the other side.I tried to control the momentum not to be too violent, and slowly descended to the bottom of the well. But-- The unexpected happened, which was thought impossible.This rope can't support the weight of me who is only ten years old and far shorter than my peers. After the creaking sound of the pulley rotating for a while, the rope was suddenly cut.I didn't even have time to shout, and I fell to the bottom of the well with the bucket. Fortunately, Gu was not too deep, and I didn't suffer too much injury when I fell to the bottom of the well; moreover, the accumulated well water was not deep—it reached my chest at most, so I didn't drown.but…… "...The view of the sky from the bottom of the well is imprinted in my heart, and I will never forget it. So when I see the summer sky, I will think of the scene at that time." He continued to sit on the edge of the bed, twisting his neck and staring at me. "You tend to scratch your face and neck at times like these, and there must be a reason for that. Does it remind you of the physical discomfort you felt when you were stuck in a dark well waiting for rescue, for example? Snakes, rats, ants, or other nasty creatures walking around you..." what!He spoke as if he was there. After recovering from the shock of falling to the bottom of the well, I first tried to climb out of the well under my own strength.Feel the stone well wall with your hands, find a slight protrusion, hold it tightly with your fingers, and climb up... Whether you can succeed depends on mastering the essentials of climbing the rock wall. But soon I gave up.It took a lot of effort to climb to a height of one or two meters, and there is no longer any protrusion on the rock wall above this. Barely stretching out his arms to grope around, he lost his balance and fell back into the water.I did the same action several times in a row, but all ended in failure. I can only lament that I am short-handed and short-handed. Next I yelled for help.In the narrow space at the bottom of the well, the sound is deafening; but how loud is it when it reaches the outside of the well?I don't know.He shouted desperately for a while, but no one came to rescue him.I tried all my tricks, but they were declared ineffective. Soaking in the cold water at the bottom of the well, I could only stare blankly at the square sky that opened above my head.Dull pains began to appear everywhere in the body that had been injured by the fall.At this time, I deeply regretted that I should not come to the well to play, because there was nothing I could do, and a feeling of despair emerged spontaneously.What if no one finds out, and the night comes quietly—a sense of regret and powerlessness, as well as a rapidly expanding sense of anxiety and fear surround my whole body... ……what!what is this? "snake!" I gasped and exclaimed. "A big snake climbed up my body leaning on the wall of the well, from shoulder to neck to face..." I gave up trying to shake the snake off.In case the snake is poisonous, one bite from it will be fatal.I don't know who I heard said that as long as people don't show hostility, snakes won't bite people.so… Although goosebumps appeared all over my body, I desperately held my breath, waiting for the cold and creamy touch of this horrible creature to leave my body.Soon, the snake really left me. In the end, my uncle's family found me falling into the well near dusk. At any rate, it was pulled up from the bottom of the well to the surface.My mother found a few transparent snake scales stuck to my legs and face.She was so excited that her son was safe and sound.And my father, standing behind my mother with his arms folded, glared at me... "Ah! Brother, what is that thing?" When he asked a question in a solemn tone, I put down my hand that was scratching my face unconsciously. "Is it a manuscript written for this issue of the magazine? It's very important." He picked up the manuscript that was lying on the corner of the bed. "Haha, you just said you didn't write a few pages, did you mean to lie to me? No, no, maybe you want to give me a surprise." My memory suddenly jumped from the distant childhood to last night. "—Ah, is that? Sorry, it's not my manuscript." After that, my eyes fell on the notebook word processor on the table.Then shrugged and continued: "It was brought by Ms. Sangshan last night. Look, there is a big envelope on the bedside table. She put the manuscript in the envelope and sent it to me." I suddenly remembered something and continued: "By the way, I was just looking for my brother's opinion on this manuscript. Well, Mr. Detective came just in time." "Stop the compliment." He smiled wryly and said, "Can I read it?" "certainly." I nodded seriously and said, "You should also know her, from KXX General Hospital..." "Well, it's that beautiful female doctor." Her name was Tomokako Kuwayama, and she was a psychiatrist whom I went to see a few years ago and became a friend. I am about the same age as her.She is a great beauty.The chance of getting to know each other was that I was suffering from emotional disorder and went to K×× general hospital for diagnosis and treatment, and she was my attending physician. After spiritual counseling and simple medication, my condition improved quickly.During the treatment, she learned that I was a writer of mystery novels, and she became very interested in me.In addition, the residences of the two happened to be very close to each other, so she sometimes came to my residence to sit and sit. Speaking of this, please don't think that I have any intimate relationship with her, although people like me don't care about such things at all.I was as interested in her career as a psychiatrist as she was in my work, and that was the nature of our relationship. Because of this relationship, I have heard her tell many anecdotes and anecdotes about the "perverted patients" she encountered in the hospital for several years.Of course, too specific details and real names are withheld. For example, a murderer performed a monologue repeatedly every day in order to atone for his crime.Another patient who was disfigured by fire and had his legs amputated in a traffic accident lost his memory completely.Moreover…… Perhaps to put it bluntly and embarrassingly, the story she told happened to be an excellent subject for me to write a novel.In fact, I have written several excellent novellas based on the stories she told, with a little imagination.Therefore, like him as a "detective", she is also a very rare and good friend of mine. "It's written by the patients in rooms five and six of the psychiatric ward. It's very interesting. You might as well read it if you have time." "Five six four?" He chanted the room number over and over. "It seems to be a number with some meaning." He muttered to himself.Then he looked at me suddenly and asked: "What kind of patient is it?" "This is—" I was at a loss for words, and hurriedly searched the memory of last night. "Well, it seems to be a male paranoid patient who thinks he is a novelist." "Haha, that manuscript..." He smiled happily and said, "Maybe it's not someone else's business." "Stop making wisecracks!" I bit my lip. "He took a word processor into the ward, and then sat in front of it day and night, thinking hard about creating a masterpiece. How can you bear to satirize him?" "Typed on a word processor—" His eyes fell on the manuscript at hand. "Is it a novel?" "Probably so." "Where did you say that?" "Basically, it was written by the patient who is currently living in that ward. The content of the novel records a certain abnormal murder incident. It is quite a surreal and incredible story. After reading it, Ms. Kuangshan felt that the reasoning that should be recognized Writer to see." "So it's a speculative novel written by a mental patient." "I'm telling the truth." He snorted "hmm", stretched his curled up body, and flipped through the manuscript on his lap. "It's better to use it as your manuscript due at the end of the month." This is of course a joke.I replied, "Good idea." "But if you do what you say..." I dragged out the chair under the table and said as I sat, "But there is a fatal problem." "Oh! What's the question?" "This manuscript—no, let's call it a novel. As a mystery novel, it is just an unfinished work. In other words, it only has a part equivalent to the 'problem chapter'." "Ha ha." "The novel ends with the question of who the culprit is? But there is no 'solution' in the book." "Well, it's really troubling." He responded vaguely, but showed interest. "It seems." I took the opportunity to say, "We must invite professional detectives to help uncover the 'truth'." "Aren't you also a professional reasoning writer? Ms. Sangshan brought it to you because she wanted you to solve the mystery." "Perhaps so." I nod frankly, stroking my bearded chin. "I've read it twice, but I can't grasp the gist at all. From last night to now, my brain seems to be rusted and I can't move. This problem is always entangled in my heart, and I don't even have the thought to deal with my own manuscript." "I understand, understand." He cut off my speech, smiled at me and said: "My responsibility is to help you when you encounter difficulties. Well, let me read the manuscript first." I've been having weird dreams a lot lately.And I have the same dream almost every night.It makes me brood and lose my mind to do things. In fact, it is doubtful whether it can be judged arbitrarily as a pure "dream".This made me more and more worried. The time of dreaming is roughly before falling asleep - in the ambiguous zone between awakening and sleep, when the consciousness is hazy, and I don't know whether I am awake or asleep. The dream begins with words: words full of hatred. ……hateful! Who said this? Also, I don't hear it as "sound" and I don't see it as "words".Ah, how to express it?Hateful, hateful... The image of the "words" expressing this meaning directly shook my head-that's how I felt. ……hateful! Who is suing?I have no idea.But—although there is no theoretical basis for it—this "who" is likely to be a woman. ……hateful!hateful! She just kept complaining. ...the man ……hateful!hateful!hateful! After a while, someone's shadow slowly seeped out of his mind, this time it was a visual image.First, the outline of the whole body was presented, then the details gradually became clear, and finally a man's figure appeared. Ugly man! This is a very real ugly man, and I have never seen such an ugly man so far. Originally, there were only relative standards for beauty and ugliness, and with the changes of the times and society, the standards of beauty and ugliness were constantly changing.But this person's ugliness, I can use "absolutely ugly" to describe it.It seems that the ugliest things in the world are all rolled into one. Specifically, all parts of the body are intact: neither fat nor thin, neither tall nor short, with hands and feet. The same is true for the facial features. Excessively pale skin, baldness.Rolling eyes.flat nose.thick lips.Big buck teeth. Every organ can be said to be normal, but once these organs are pieced together, look at his face—— Very ugly! I can say without hesitation that I have never seen such an ugly man. ……hateful! The "words" of hate still echo in my head. ...the man ……hateful!hateful! Apparently, the hateful "words" were addressed to the ugly man who came to my mind as an image. ……hateful!hateful!hateful! Hate, which has grown to a fierce and insane level, is rooted in this "word". —At the same time, cowardice or fear. It also ferments into intense and crazy feelings, dancing in the form of "words". ……horrible! ……hateful ……Hate ...the man ……help! ……horrible! ……help! ……help! The ugly man's face also slowly enlarged.It seems that in response to this change, the image of the "sound" began to become disordered. The sound of swishing through the air...is this the sound of a whip? ……help! The voice coming over many obstacles... Is this the cry of a person? ……stop! The sound of several sharp weapons colliding.The sound of fingernails scraping glass.Some sort of mechanical sound driven at furious speed. ……please stop! Fading into close-up of the ugly face of the man.This "image" began to become chaotic with the high-pitched "sound" that intersected with it, and it didn't take long before it suddenly disappeared in the crimson droplets. The hatred and fear that swelled beyond the limit erupted together, and thus erupted in the form of words. ...Kill! Excited and frenzied: full of murderous intent. ……Kill him! she told. ……Kill him!Kill him! she ordered. ... must kill him! In the center of the world dyed crimson, a new "image" began to seep. Four aliens. ……Kill him! she ordered.Issue orders to them. ...the man ……Kill him! ... must kill him! Very strong "words". kill it.kill this man.Must kill him. The four aliens began to react subtly to her words: consternation, doubt, timidity, hesitation, and then joy. Her "words" at this stage suddenly became calm and deliberate. ...don't be noticed! ...don't leave evidence! ...not to be caught by the police! This is advice to them.It is necessary to kill "this man" without being caught by the police. ……horrible! A great sense of fear struck again. ……horrible!horrible!horrible! A certain type of mental patient often says that "electric waves" are sent to his head, and complains that someone has emitted electric waves to control his behavior. The doctors categorically denied that there was such a thing, and used the word "delusional" to characterize this type of mentally ill patients.But I don't think that's the case for all.For example, I have personal experience in this regard. I'm not an expert in physics, so I can't give a detailed and convincing explanation.In short, our human thoughts and longings can emit some kind of electromagnetic waves that are carried by particles that have not been known to us so far.Let me call this kind of electromagnetic wave "Missing Wave". Our brains often emit this kind of longing wave, but its energy is extremely weak, and ordinary people can't feel its existence at all. Perhaps, our brains already have a device for receiving thought waves, and most people don't feel it because the body's defense instinct works. In fact, wouldn't social life be in chaos if we could receive the thought waves emitted by others one by one?It's like if you can see all kinds of radio waves flying in the real world, what would the world be like? To prevent this from happening, we unconsciously shut down our receptivity.Imagine, around our spirit, erected a solid wall of separation.If the function of this dividing wall is not perfect, it will become one of the causes of certain psychotic symptoms.Further speculation, if someone has a particularly developed ability in this area and can control it freely, then he is a so-called "special function person". The above remarks are based on my own personal experience. To be honest, my own partition wall function is weaker than that of ordinary people. why?Perhaps it is easier to understand with "'wall' is too thin and too brittle" to explain. When the physical condition and mental state break down, the longing wave from someone who does not know can break through the thin and fragile "wall" and drive straight in.At such times, I would quickly become melancholy and hopeless, filled with unexplained uneasiness and terror. It can be said that these psychological reactions are all due to the "gift" of other people's thoughts. If the brain antenna can correctly capture the weak thought waves breaking through the "wall", it should be able to be interpreted and processed as objective information.It's a pity that my receptive ability is not good, so I have the above emotional reaction. Fortunately, I have been aware of the mechanism of this yearning wave for a long time, and I have mastered the method of consciously strengthening my fragile "isolation wall", so as to protect my spiritual stability. Therefore, I am different from the "delusions" of other patients in this psychiatric ward. In fact, my mental state remains completely normal, no different from ordinary people. So, why am I still living in this 564-room ward?There is of course a reason for this. The outside is filled with countless thoughts waves and particles, flying in the air, penetrating the walls and entering the room, attacking my heart wantonly.In order to block the waves of thoughts, I must always cheer up and maintain the strength of the "isolation wall". I was so exhausted from such a stressful life that I decided to self-isolate in the hospital.In other words, I wasn't in the hospital because I was crazy, I was in the hospital because I didn't want to be crazy. I fully explained my situation to the doctors, and they also expressed their understanding.They supported my work, so I was allowed to bring word processors and materials into the ward. In my eyes, this ward is an extremely comfortable workplace.To create literature that only I can write, in a non-stressful environment.Although Evans has stagnated recently, I think a breakthrough will be made soon.I am full of confidence, groaning and scrutinizing in front of the word processor every day. But…… I've been seeing that weird dream almost every night lately. I don't think it's just a "dream". In the ambiguous zone between waking and sleeping, it is the moment when my brain's "wall" is most vulnerable. When I am awake, I will consciously strengthen the "wall of separation".While sleeping, as far as I know from experience, the "wall" will automatically surround the mind and prevent any foreign matter from entering.Therefore, the problem often occurs in the vague consciousness zone that seems to be sleeping but not sleeping. In that state, a thought wave from someone invaded my mind, and I saw that weird dream. That "words", that "image", that "sound"... being able to experience such vivid objects in a dream shows that the wave of longing is quite strong.This means that near me, there are people who have reached the level of "supernatural powers" and have powerful firing abilities beyond ordinary people.Every night, the above messages are emitted from the mind of this person (…her?), intentionally or not. The more I think about it, the more I feel like this is the case. So where is this person?Is it in this ward? To tell you the truth, I have a clue. In the deepest part of the fifth floor on the same floor as Room 564 where I live—at the end of the winding and winding corridor, there is a locked solid iron gate, and inside it there are double iron doors , so that it is completely isolated from the outside world. A few days ago, I stumbled upon such an isolation ward.Because I am not a dangerous patient, the doctor allowed me to leave the ward and walk around the ward. Later, I asked the nurse I knew, who lived inside the iron gate?The young nurse replied decisively: "I don't know." Under my repeated pleading, the nurse added: "That room is called a 'special ward', and I can't go in either. Only senior nurses can enter." That's what I mean by a little clue. The fifth floor of the psychiatric ward of K×× General Hospital is located in the innermost "special ward". Could the sender of the longing wave that caused me to have strange dreams frequently be one of the patients isolated inside the iron gate? If so, what is the origin of this superpower?or…… With all these problems in my mind, I couldn't concentrate on my work at all. As mentioned above, I was admitted to the hospital in order to avoid the flood of longing waves and concentrate on writing. What I didn't expect was the opposite effect, which troubled me. How to deal with it?After much deliberation, I decided to talk about this issue with the kind and friendly attending physician, Ms. K. "Is it four aliens?" After listening to my general explanation, the female doctor muttered while pushing her glasses.She was a very young--about thirty-five years old--a psychiatrist.The neat face with light makeup is even more solemn under the background of rimless glasses. "Then what kind of alien do you see?" The female doctor asked me: "Is it a person? Or is it not a person?" "I think it's people." I stared at the other person and replied bluntly: "But it is very deformed...so I call it an alien." "What does it look like?" "One of them--" I carefully searched for the "image" imprinted in my memory, and tried to express it in words as follows: "There is only one eye, located in the center of the face. It is a big eye, like a one-eyed beast..." The female doctor listened with bated breath.I continued: "Bald. No clothes. The height of a male high school student... maybe a teenager. The nose and mouth are the same as ordinary people, but there is only one eye." Children with congenital deformities called monocularism.But in that case, it is often accompanied by incomplete development such as a missing nose, and in most cases it dies at birth... "What about the second person?" The female doctor urged softly.She looked a little unnatural. "Slightly taller than the first one-eyed boy, with a weak body that can't even stand on his feet, extremely pale complexion, and a thin face." I replied: "It seems that he is also a man. However, he has three hands. In addition to the left and right hands, there is also a thin hand suddenly born on the heart." Like the previous "one-eyed", for the second alien, there is also an extremely rare case of so-called multi-limbed deformity. "Three hands..." The female doctor's expression became more and more unnatural. "Is this man not wearing clothes?" "Hmm. So I can tell he's male." I continued: "The third alien is very short, about one meter in height, and can be regarded as a dwarf. But he does not belong to the dwarf defined by dwarfism." "What's the meaning?" "The back is hunched so badly..." "Is that a hunchback?" "Yes. But it's not the same as a normal hunchback. There are two large tumors on the humpback, and the head is lower than these two large tumors. It looks like the face of a xiphoid conjoined twin." "Is he male? Or female?" "It's probably a male. It gives the impression of a boy with disheveled hair. His complexion is also poor, and his face seems a little swollen." "What about the last person?" "The fourth also appears to be male. He is the tallest of the four, almost twice as tall as the third. But his thin body is covered with a layer of skin that resembles reptilian scales, and his face is also covered with scales." ;Are you suffering from some kind of strange skin disease? You have to consult a dermatologist.” "Did the woman who launched the 'Missing Wave' issue a 'kill' order to these four people, instigating them to 'kill that man'?" "yes." "What does that woman look like? Can you see clearly?" "I don't know." I shook my head wildly from side to side. "Well, one-eyed boy...a man with one hand, a hunchback with two big bumps on his back, a tall man covered in snake scale skin..." The female doctor lowered her eyes and muttered to herself, then fell silent.Obviously, what I said had a big impact on her. "It cannot be thought of as a coincidence." After a while, she muttered.She lightly pressed the nose bridge of her glasses with her fingers, shook her head slowly for a while, then seemed to have made up her mind, and cast her gaze at me resolutely. "I don't know how to explain it. Gu Dan doesn't care if the thing 'Missing Wave' exists or not. In short, as one of those who know the truth, I hope you keep silent and act as if you didn't hear or see it..." "The truth?—then..." I stared at the female doctor's well-groomed face, and asked anxiously, "Is that woman really there? Inside that iron gate?" "yes." The female doctor nodded slowly, and then added: "It's not just her. The four aliens you saw in your dream also live in that 'special ward'." "Oh!" "One-eyed, three-armed, hunchback with two bumps, and snakeskin man, they all actually exist, and they are also kept in the room behind the iron gate." "Ah, ah..." I moan softly. "But, doctor, how could they be imprisoned in..." "Because of a horrible incident." The female doctor replied calmly.The blunt expression and trembling tone just now have disappeared without a trace. “那是一件完全超出常理的事件，警察当局竭力不让消息外泄。传媒方面似乎也没有对比提出强烈抗议，毋宁说对采访和报导采取了极为自律的态度。” "Oh!" “或许，在目前的日本，是不允许对那样的事做大肆报导的。因为事件太恐怖、太凄惨……简直不敢相信这世上会有这种事发生。” 虽然女医师反覆强调“恐怖”这个字眼，但我还是想像不出具体的悲惨情状。“猎奇杀人”这可怕的词汇蓦然在我脑际浮现。 “他们五人统统与事件有关。警方只调查了一会儿，很快便秘密地把他们送来医院。警方确认这五人无论在肉体上或精神上都处于严重的患病状态，于是选定这所医院的'特别病房'作为收容场所。” “他们在这里接受治疗吗？” “哼，治疗……什么的？什么叫治疗？做怎样的治疗才算合理？有谁说得清？” 女医师淡然说道：“很可能，把他们送来这里只是为了避开世间耳目而已。他们的命运是从黑暗走向黑暗。” “从黑暗到黑暗？……” “或许，对他们来说这是最好的结局。但就我个人而言，这样的处置方法是否最好，我是抱持怀疑态度的。也有一部分知道这些患者存在的医生和护士都有这种看法。” “可是，说到现在，我还不知道发生了什么事件呀？”我加强语气问道。 “杀呀！杀死那男人！一定要杀死他！”——那女人命令四个异形杀人的激烈“言词”又在我脑际鲜活地复苏了。 “究竟是怎么一回事呢？” "Do you want to know?" 女医师眯着眼说道。 “对，快说给我听。” 我立即回答：“要不然，我……我想那个思念波今晚又会侵袭我的脑子，我……” “——原来如此。” 于是，她把事件的始末娓娓道来。这的确是一件难以置信的离奇杀人事件。 J. M 这是事件核心人物的男子的姓名字母缩写（女医师避免说出真实姓名）。 四十二岁，独身，没有结过婚。大学医学院毕业后马上进大学研究所从事医学研究，但中途退学，返回老家。 此后几年，J. M又离开故乡城镇，移到某个山村（具体地名隐藏其名）独居。他的家建造在村子尽头，是一座与周围优美风景不相称的无机混凝土建筑物。虽然位处村庄之外的森林里，但建筑物的周围用高墙围住，大门仿佛拒绝来客似地永远紧闭。看起来，更像一座秘密的研究所。 “J. M从双亲那儿继承了巨额遗产，即使不做事，也可以悠哉游哉地过一辈子……不，一辈子也花不完他拥有的财富。” K女士如此说明。 “虽然如此，为什么他不做医生和科学研究者，年纪轻轻的就到山村隐居呢？显然，这是有特别理由的——” 她一边看我的反应，一边继续说： “J. M是个非常丑陋的男人，这便是他离群索居的最大理由了。” 丑陋男人！ 不用说，她说的话，马上与我每夜梦见的那个男人的脸孔衔接起来了。 “实际上，他到底'丑'到何种程度？如何'丑'法？对于没有见过他尊容的我来说，是无法做出确切说明的。大致而言，他的五官既不欠缺也不过剩，但各种器官拼凑在一起，就成为人见人嫌的大丑怪了。” Yes!exactly. 我在梦中见到的那男人的脸孔又在我的脑际浮现。 过分苍白的皮肤、秃头、滴溜溜转的双眼、扁鼻子、厚嘴唇、大艳牙。 每种器官都是正常的，但一旦把这些器官拼凑起来，再看他的尊容…… 那个男人——那个丑男人，正是女医生所说的J. M其人了。 “显然，他人的劣评深深刺伤了他的心。从幼年期到思春期再到青年期，他经受了何种具体的体验我不得而知，但关于自己长相丑陋的劣等意识日积月累而膨胀起来：自己丑！非常丑！世界上没有比自己更丑的人了……自卑感就这样往恶质方向无止境地发展。 “不知如何是好，听说整容手术也做过好几次，但并不能解决问题。或许到了那个地步，最大的问题已经不是外貌，而是开始扭曲的心理了。他离开大学研究所，到人迹罕至的偏僻地方隐居，恐怕就是扭曲心理作祟。简言之，一切问题都是因相貌丑陋而起。” 女医师的语调虽然还是一成不变的淡定，但她说到此处稍停，好像要使自己冷静下来似地喘了几口大气。 “森林中的那个家，J. M一直住了十几年。听说购物之类全赖佣人，他自己足不出户。村民们也绝不接近这座阴森森的建筑。所以在很长的时间里，他在这座形同秘密实验室的屋子里偷偷干的那些恶魔般的勾当，竟无人知晓。” 事件发生在初夏的某个晚上。第一个向警方通报的人，是翌日上午依约去J. M家的律师T（这里也隐藏其真实姓名）。 T是刚于一个月前被介绍与J. M相识的年轻律师。原来的顾问律师由于发生意外事故不得不长时间停职，因此之故，让同一事务所的T继承业务。这一次T来J. M家访问，是与J. M的第二度见面。 约定见面时间是上午十点半。 一面从记忆中搜索前次来访时的行车路线，T跌跌撞撞地开车来到这个山村。前半夜下了一场大雨，道路泥泞不堪，刚于两天前洗过的车身溅满了泥浆。迷了几次路，最后到达J. M宅邱已经是十点五十分，比约见时间迟了二十分钟。 T从前任律师处获悉J. M是一个非常爱挑剔的男人。 前任律师还提出忠告，为了不触怒对方，必须谨言慎行，严格按对方指示办事。与对方谈话的时候，应目不旁视地看着对方的脸，不可露出胆怯之色。脸上宜带微笑，但不可大笑等等。 虽然J. M提供破格的高报酬，但想到要与那个讨厌的男人面对面地相处几个小时，心中就感到痛苦。T在内心里真心真意地期盼前任律师早日重返工作岗位。 车子在大门口停下。按下门柱上的对讲机。上一回也是这么做的，一名初老的男佣很快就跑出来了。但这一次情况有异，按了多次对讲机，却无人回应。 嗅！想起来了。 前天与J. M通电话确认今天会面时间时，记得J. M说过，家中的佣人因身体突感不适，紧急入院了。 那么，今天只有那男人一人在家了。 T自行推开大门进入，踏上往玄关的小路。这条小路也因昨夜的豪雨变得很泥泞，昨天刚擦得油亮的皮鞋可遭殃了。 前面耸立着二层楼箱型建筑物，整面墙壁是略脏的灰色混凝土墙，见不到窗户：玄关门也没有任何装饰：是一扇结实的钢制大门。 按下装在大门旁的电铃，屋内没有回应。稍等一会再按铃，仍无回应。 反覆按了多次都不见屋内有回应后，T死心了，决定打道回府。不辞辛苦来到这偏僻的鬼地方却白跑一趟，T禁不住怒火中烧。但转头一想，今日终于用不着应酬那讨厌的男人了，反而觉得松了一口气。 T正准备离开玄关时：哭然听到门内发出窸窸窣窣的声响。他蓦然回头。 这是数人的脚步声。然后，又传出似乎在讨论某事的叽哩咕噜声… J. M应该在此单身独居，男佣因为住院去了，不在家中。那么，是否家中来了客人，而且有好几位。 正在考虑之间：玄关门突然打开。当屋内人形映现在T的视网膜上时，T禁不住大声惊呼。 出现在眼前的是非人生物。难道这世上真的有妖魔鬼怪吗？T吓得魂飞天外。 但惊魂甫定，他醒悟到或许是误解了：站在面前的绝非“非人生物”。 “那时候我真吓得站都站不住了。” 事后他心有余悸地说道：“从门后突然出现一个鼻子上面只长着一只眼睛的小妖怪。” 看来，首先映入他眼帘的是我在梦中见到的异形之一——“独眼” “独眠”是男性一看即知，因为他一丝不挂，全裸出场。 如何解释眼前的景象呢？T心乱如麻，不敢多想，扭转身，还是三十六计走为上策吧。 "please wait!" “独眼”出声了，把T叫住。 “想请您帮忙，我们很困扰。” 这是一口尚处于前变声期的少年声音，用很标准的日语说出。胆怯而无奈的语气。T鼓起勇气，正面面对“独眼”。冷静地打量对方，发现除了一只眼以外，其他方面与普通人一样。虽然头皮秃顶，但他大腿间的阴毛尚未长全，说明他还只有“少年”的年纪。 既不是妖魔，也不是鬼怪，T自忖着。对方是人类中的少年。他能说话与人沟通，脑子看来也不笨… “你，叫什么名字呢？” T下定决心与对方会话。 “名字嘛……嗯。” 少年困惑地歪着头。 “平时爸爸叫我'独眼'，这是不是我的名字？” “你爸爸？”T惊奇地问道：“难道就是住在此地的J. M先生？” “对，他就是爸爸。” “有这种……” T张口结舌说不出话来了，唯有再仔细地打量一番这异形少年的脸孔。 从体格等方面来观察，估计这少年约莫十二、三岁左右。他真的是那位J. M先生的儿子？如果真的是他儿子的话，为什么不给他取个名字，仅仅以“独眼”相称？ “那么，你爸爸现在在什么地方？”经T这么一问，那少年的脸上明显地露出怯懦之色。“我们觉得很困扰，不叫警察不行吗？” "Policemen?" 突然从少年的嘴巴里说出警察的字眼，T更感惊诧和不可思议了。 "Who are you?" “我在电视上看过杀人事件。爸爸也被杀死了。” “J. M先生被杀？” T厉声问道：“他在哪里？被谁杀了？” "In the basement." 少年怯生生地回答。他一边缓缓地摇头，一边继续说道： “不知道凶手是谁。警察很可怕。我们怕被警察怀疑。爸爸常说，我们不是普通人，但也不是妖魔鬼怪。警察少见多怪，看到我们的样子一定会起疑。如果我们变成嫌疑杀人犯，那就太可怕了。”看到少年着急得快要哭出来了，T赶忙说“不要紧”来安慰他。 “没关系，不周怕。警察不是坏人。” "But……" “你爸爸真的被杀死了吗？如果是真的话，那得赶快和警方联络啰。屋里有电话吗？快打一一〇” “可是，我们……” “什么'我们、我们'的？难道屋里还有其他人吗？” 少年点头。 T向半开着的玄关大门里面看去。正在此时，少年的三个伙伴一个接一个地现身了。 他们和“独眼”一样，不穿衣服。三人均为男性。而且，都是T从未见到过的异形。 已经没有必要说明了。“三只手”、“驼子”、“蛇皮男”——在T面前出现的正是我梦见的异形中的其他三人。 对T来说，这简直是一场恶梦。但站在面前的这四个异形又明明是“真人”，绝非用特殊材料制作的模型。 根据“独眼”的说明，那三人同他一样，都是J. M的儿子。而且，没有一个有自己的正式名字。“爸爸”说按年龄大小分别叫他们为“驼子”、“独眼”、“蛇皮男”、“三只手”。可是，他们也不清楚自己究竟几岁了。稍后，他们又说在二楼还有一位年龄最大的“姐姐”，她不能走路，所以不能下到地下室。 听着少年结结巴巴的说明，完全不像是编造出来的谎话。其他三人配合少年的每一句话，一个劲儿地点头附和。 T判定少年说的是真话。那么，J. M是在地下室被杀了…… 照理说应该马上拨一一〇报警才对。但T想亲眼目击一下现场再说。虽然对少年的话并不怀疑，但在好奇心驱使下，T决心见识一下恐怖场面。 but…… 几分钟后T便为自己的草率决定深感后悔。此后的好几天，他完全食不下咽。 在四个异形的导引下，T下到地下室，赫然见到令人恶心的J. M尸体。 两臂、两腿、头部完全与被脱成全裸的躯体切离，手臂与腿又被切割成几块。脸部的两颗眼球被剜出，鼻子被削落，嘴巴从唇端至颊部裂开成大缺口。躯体也一样，从胸部至下腹部被切开，体内脏器都被挖出来了。被血沫染得鲜红的地下室，弥漫着恶臭。T顿时感到头昏眼花，几欲作呕。 “J. M这个男人，肯定是一个不可理喻的变态狂人。” K女士不理会我一边想像凄惨的杀人现场，一边不自觉按着胃部的痛苦样子，继续说道： “他们五人，显然不是J. M的亲生子女。既无出生纪录，在户籍中当然也无记载。说得贴切一点，他们可算是J. M的非正式养子养女。说得更直白一点，则不妨认为是J. M这个狂人饲养的可悲宠物。这里所谓的宠物，不是用来把玩，而是用来虐待。 “已进入妄想阶段的J. M，是他的样貌情结促使他犯下这种恶魔般的罪孽。自己长得太丑，而且找不到比自己更丑的人——这种劣等意识促使他发狂。为了消解样貌情结，他设想了一个疯狂的计划，并予以实施。这就是要创造比自己更丑的东西——至少他这么认为，将他们置于自己身边，并君临他们之上。 “让比自己更丑的人——至少他这么认为——置于身边，而且让他们清楚认识到丑陋，于是自己便相对地处于美的地位了。” 事件发生后，根据遗留在J. M书房里的日记等文件、五个“孩子”的证词、对长年为J. M服务的某佣人的盘问，以及调查曾被J. M用高额酬金雇用的计划参与者等，事件的脉络很快就弄清楚了。 十几年前，当J. M移居到森林里的那栋建筑物里后，他就开始实施这个恶魔计划。 他通过各种途径把黑手伸进各地医院，偷偷地购买和收集刚刚出生的畸形儿。通常，重度畸形儿即使活着生下来，也会做某种处置而当作死胎处理。虽然孕妇产前诊断技术已相当发达，但是生下畸形儿的特殊情形还是有的。 J. M出重金偷偷买下畸形儿，然后带回家中养育。但是，这样的试验都失败了。毕竟重度畸形儿的生命力非常微弱，养不多久就死了。不言而喻，婴儿的尸体都被秘密处理掉了。 于是，J. M修正他的恶魔计划。既然无法利用天然物，就索性用自己的双手制造更丑陋的畸形者。 “——人体改造？” 我喘息般地挤出声音。 "yes." K女士冷冷地点头。 “J. M改变了收集对象，从收购极罕见的重度畸形儿变为收买正常婴儿。除了去医院搜罗，他的黑手还伸到孤儿院。他对用非法手段买来的正常婴儿，亲手做各种整形改造手术。不用说，他充分利用了直至大学研究所为止的医学训练所取得的经验。或者不妨设想，他专攻医科的目的正在于此。” “如此说来，那五个人都是J. M亲手制造的人工异形吗？” “可以这么说。在那栋建筑物里，有一间房间布置得和医院手术室一样，室内摆满了各种外科器械和药品。这五人都接受过J. M的外科手术和服用药物，结果变成现在的形状。” “那不是很荒唐吗？” “我最初听到这样惊世骇俗的事时想法也和你一样。但那毕竟是事实。其证据就是目前羁留在'特别病房'里的那五名畸形者。经医学验证，他们的畸形完全由后天人工造成。” 我想再度说“荒唐”，但声音到了喉咙口又咽回去了。 “J. M这种疯狂的人体改造手术，在若干名婴儿或幼儿身上试行失败，致使这些试验者死亡。事后警方搜查那栋建筑物时，在内庭地下起出了多具白骨化尸体，经法医检定，几乎全部是未满三岁的婴儿。最后手术成功，并养育长大的'成功例子'，就是那五名'孩子'了。” "..." “'独眼'的一只眼、'鳞男'的皮肤，都是人工造成的。'驼子'也一样，强制性地使其脊椎骨弯曲，两个瘤的成形手术则在婴儿期施行。” “那么'三只手'呢？是在正常的孩子身上移植一只手上去吗？” “警方在内庭地下挖出一具缺少一只手的白骨化尸体。或许死者与'三只手'是一对孪生儿，故移植一只手上去并未出现排斥反应。” 在我脑际，又浮现出了曾经几度梦见的那个男人——J. M的丑陋模样，感到一阵嗯心。如果说这世界上存在着“科学狂人”的话，那就是J. M了。 “还有一个人呢？” 我问道：“就是第五人——年纪最大的'姐姐'，她是怎么回事？” “她嘛——” 白皙端正的脸突然扭曲了。 “她叫做'芋虫'。（编注：这个词在？又俗语中亦有'讨厌的人'之意。）双手与双腿被切离，只留下躯体和头部活着。舌头也被拔掉了，所以无法说话。据J. M留下的的日记中记载，这是他的第一号'成功作品'。” “——其他妈地残忍！” 我呕吐似地喃喃说着，脑中想像在那扇铁门后某一间单人房中，独自躺在床上的人的样子。 不能走路、不能持物，甚至不能说话。这样的伤残女子不知不觉中拥有了与众不同的发射强力思念波的超能力。 显然，最近每晚见到的梦，都是我的大脑接收了她发出的思念波的结果。 ……可恨！ 这表示她对“那个男人”恨之入骨。 ……可怕！ ……恐怖！ 这表示她怕J. M。 ……help! ……停手！ ……请停手！ 那一定是J. M在虐待（凌辱？）她了。她发出呼救声。 ……杀呀！ 这明显表达了她对J. M的杀意。可是，