Chapter 56 horror island

Keir Elliott held onto the smooth stone of the high wall, let the scorching Aegean sun grill his neck, and peered through a crack. This small island is dotted in the middle of the Aegean Sea, like a crystal stone on a huge blue shield.He came to this island hoping that something would happen, like what happened behind the high walls. In the garden behind the high wall, there is a gurgling fountain.In the center of the fountain are two naked figures, a mother and a child. A mother and a child, hugging each other tightly, are carved out of purple, dark green and other jade stones—although it seems unlikely.

He took a small pencil-shaped object from his pocket and opened it.It's a tiny telescope.Panting, he peered through the gap again.God, that woman can see very clearly!Her head was tilted slightly, her eyes were wide open, and she looked extremely surprised. What did she see?She rested one hand on her smooth thigh, and the other hand did not cover her plump breasts, but hugged the child. He examined the statue professionally, his mind racing, trying to identify its author, but unsuccessfully.There is no date at all, it may have been completed yesterday, or it may have been completed thousands of years ago.But one thing is certain--it will not be in any roster.

Gere discovered the island by accident.He cruised in the Aegean Sea on an ancient Greek Keik (Kaik, a light sailing ship in the countries along the eastern Mediterranean coast.), aimlessly sailing from one small island to another.From Respos to Chios, and then to Samos, cross this sea full of legends and the Cyclades Islands, and set foot on the ancient land where gods once walked like men.These islands with a lot of buried treasures appeared before Kiel's eyes.If he came across something that would make him happy, he would pay for it.But few things make Keel happy.rare. Keik's engine died in a moderate storm, and the wind and waves drove them southwest.When the storm stopped, the engine restarted half-deadly, and drove forward panting all the way.There was no radio, but the captain didn't care.Who would get lost in the Aegean Sea?

They floated, drifted, and floated like a little beetle in the blue sea, and finally Keel saw a gray shadow ahead, which was a small island.The black shadow in the telescope was getting closer and closer, and he gasped.The first thing that catches the eye is an incredible high wall that surrounds the island. A huge horseshoe-shaped masonry building rises from the sea, wraps around several pieces of land with twists and turns, sinks into the sea again, and sinks into the sea. The sea water is rolling, and the white waves are surging. He called the captain's attention. "There's an island there."

The captain smiled, squinting at the direction of Keel's finger. "There's a wall on the island," Keel added. The smile on the captain's face disappeared instantly.He turned his head away from looking at the island. "That's nothing," said the captain coldly. "There are only a few shepherds on it, and it doesn't even have a name." "There's the wall," said Keel mildly, "and here"—he handed the glass to the captain—"you see." "No." The captain's head remained motionless, his eyes still looking straight ahead. "Just a monument. There's no mooring there, and no one's been there in years. You're not going to like it, no electricity."

"I want to see the wall and what's behind it." The captain glanced at him, and Kiel started, a worried look in his eyes. "There's nothing behind the wall. It's a rundown place, nothing left." "I want to see the wall," Keel said quietly. They eventually succumbed to him.Little Keik was driving at full speed in the sea with his big gray nose turned up, making a chug sound.They passed a small boat and were getting closer and closer to the island.He noticed the unusually quiet small street on the island, the deserted hotels and a few flat-bottomed fishing boats with spinnakers hanging, and a group of goats swimming at the foot of the mountain.

He almost believed the captain's words: it was a ruined and forgotten island, far from the modern civilization that had spread all over the world--almost, because he remembered the part of the wall.Walls are built to counter or hide something.He just wanted to know what that was. After he settled down in the humble inn, he immediately went to look at that section of the wall.He looked down from the knoll and was again amazed at the size it surrounded. He circled the wall, trying to find a door or a breach in the smooth, unclimbable wall, but in vain.The enclosed part protrudes into the sea like a peninsula, and the jagged reefs resist the never-ending impact of the waves.

On the way back along the high wall, he was surprised to hear the slight sound of water dripping nearby.Carefully searching the wall, he found a tiny hole, the size of a walnut, just above his head. It was through this hole that he saw the woman and the child.So beautiful, he couldn't take his eyes off her.He finally understood that the perfect symbol he had searched for was here. How did all the rosters omit this masterpiece?It was hard not to let the news of this kind of thing come out, but there was no news or rumors from this small island.On this pinpoint-sized island, such a great work has not yet been named; behind this huge high wall, there is a masterpiece of genius hidden; known.

He stared, tongue and throat dry, heart pounding like a connoisseur discovering a long-buried authenticity.He must have it, he will have it.It has not yet been recorded in history, and its true value may not be known.Perhaps its owner inherited it, and it was left there, unnoticed, unappreciated. He reluctantly left the small hole in the wall and strolled back to the village, stepping on the thick ancient dust. Greece.The cradle of Western culture. He thought again about the beautiful image of the mother and child behind him.The author of this group of statues could well be among the ranks of the gods of Olympus.But who is he?

Back in the village, he rubbed his shoes in front of the small inn, trying to wipe off the dust from his shoes, and at the same time he was surprised that the residents here were so numb. "Can I come?" A little boy with twinkling eyes popped out of the inn, clutching a rag in one hand and black homemade shoe polish in the other, and immediately set about polishing Kiel's shoes. Keel sat down on a bench and studied the little boy.He looked about 15 years old, thin but not weak, a little small for a child of that age.Had he been born a few years earlier, he might have been a model for Praxityri (Praxityri, a Greek sculptor of the fourth century BC.): perfectly shaped skull, short curly hair, brows The two locks of bangs look like the horns of Pan God (Pan God, half-man, half-goat god of animal husbandry in Greek mythology). It is an image of a handsome young man in ancient Greece.But, no, there was a slight scar on the boy's nose, extending from the bridge of the nose to the corner of the mouth, which even made people think it extended to the white teeth.

No, Praxityri wouldn't use him as a model—unless a slightly flawed Pan was born in the sculptor's head. "Who is the owner of that large estate behind the village?" he asked in fine Greek.The little boy raised his head quickly, as if he had drawn the blinds, his eyes suddenly dimmed.He shook his head. "Surely you know," continued Keel, "that the estate occupies the entire southern tip of the island, and there is a wall so high that it juts out into the sea." The little boy still shook his head stubbornly. "It's always been there." Keel smiled. "It's been a long time," he said. "Perhaps your father knows?" "I don't have a father." The little boy looked proud. "I'm sorry." Keel watched the little boy's skillful movements. "You really don't know the name of the family that lives there?" The little boy mumbled something. "Gordon?" Keel leaned forward. "You mean the Gordons? An English family that owns the property?" He felt hope reduced to ashes.If the owners were an English family, the chances of getting that fine set of stone statues simply didn't exist. "They're not English," said the little boy. "I would very much like to meet them." "impossible." "I know it's impossible from the island," Keel said, "but I guess they must have a pier or some other means of landing on the sea side." The little boy lowered his eyes, still shaking his head.Several villagers gathered around and listened to their conversation in silence.Kiel knew the Greeks, a jovial people who were jovial, sometimes curious, and fond of giving advice.These people all stood, not smiling, just watching with open eyes. After the little boy finished polishing his shoes, Kiel threw him a 50-repta coin.The boy smiled as he picked it up, a piece of scarred head art. "That wall," Keel said to an old man in glasses, "I'd love to meet the owner of that property." The old man muttered something, turned and walked away. Keel is very upset about the psychological mistakes he made.In Greece, money talks. "Whoever wants to take me to the other side of the sea by boat," he said loudly, "I will give him 50-100 drachmas (drachma, the name of the Greek currency. 100 lepta is equivalent to 1 drachma .).” He knew that was a lot of money for a poor man herding goats on this rocky desert island.Most of them may not be able to earn so much for a year of hard work.A lot of money—yet they just looked at each other and walked away without looking back.All people are like this. He encountered such mysterious refusals all over the village, and getting to their hearts was as difficult as scaling that enigmatic wall.They won't even mention the wall, who built it or when it was built.To them it doesn't seem to exist. Returning to the tavern at dusk, he found dolma dakis—a concoction of minced meat, rice, eggs, and spices—surprisingly delicious; drank Resna, a strong wine made by the villagers; Think of the lovely mother and her child shrouded in twilight behind the high wall.A great sorrow and longing for the group of statues came over him. Damn unlucky!He had encountered some local taboos, most of which were the result of family feuds.can be traced back to the ancestors.They are strictly observed by the villagers, and they dare not offend them in the slightest.I really don't understand what all this means for their short life.But that's another story entirely. He was standing in the darkness outside the village, looking at the sea gloomily, when he heard light footsteps. He turned around quickly, but saw a little boy approaching gradually.It was the little shoe-shine boy, with sparks in his eyes, who trembled a little despite the tenderness of the night. The little boy grabbed his arm. "Others—I'll take you by boat tonight," he said quietly. Keel smiled, greatly relieved.Why didn't he think of this child.A lad, helpless and alone, would be useful with 100 drachmas, not to care about any fucking taboos. "Thank you," he said gently. "When are we going?" "Before the tide ebbs—an hour before sunrise," said the boy, "I," his teeth chattering, "I will only see you there, and I myself will only go to the rocks beyond the wall. You will stay there and wait Go after low tide—just go—” He seemed to be choked by something, and he was almost out of breath. "What are you afraid of?" Keel asked. "I'm responsible for the illegal entry, though I don't think—" The little boy clutched his arm. "Other people—tonight, after you go back, don't tell other people, I'll take you there." "If you don't want me to say it, I won't say it." "Please don't say it!" he pleaded, breathlessly. "If they knew, they wouldn't like it—I'd—" "I get it," Keel said, "I won't tell anyone." "One hour before sunrise," the little boy lowered his voice, "I will wait for you at the place where the high wall faces east into the sea." When Keel saw the child again, the stars were still shining, but they were beginning to fade.The little boy was like a black shadow sitting in a small boat falling and falling, pulling on the kelp and seaweed growing on the rocks at the base of the high wall.He realized right away that the little boy would have to paddle for hours to get the boat there.No sails. He climbed in, and the two set off from shore.The little boy was speechless all the way, which made people wonder. The sea was rough and the wind was cold.The high walls loomed, lost in the morning mist. "Who built this wall?" he asked.By now they were out into the dark sea, riding the ebb tide through a jagged reef. "The ancients," said the little boy.His teeth were chattering, and he kept his back to the high wall, looking at the sea to estimate the distance he had rowed. "It's always been there." Always.Keel looked at the huge wall that was emerging, and felt that it was very old indeed.very very old.Perhaps dating back to the early days of Greek civilization.So could that group of statues—mother and child.It is indeed a mystery that all this has never been known to the outside world. As the boat drew nearer and he could see clearly the end of the wall rising out of the tumultuous water, Kiel realized he was not the first, not even the hundredth, to venture here.The island was remote and desolate, without even a postal route, but it was certain that many curious people like himself, including collectors, had visited it in the years since the walls were erected.Even so, a rumor never arose. The boat leaned against a huge black reef, and the prow, which was stained white by guano, glistened in the faint sunlight.The little boy put the oar back into the boat. "I'll wait for you here at the next high tide," the little boy trembled like he had a high fever. "Will you pay me now?" "Of course." Keel took out his wallet, "why don't you send me a little further?" "No," said the boy in horror, "I can't." "How about just sending it to the pier?" Keel said, watching the waves break between the reef and the narrow, sloping sand. "Hey, why is there no pier!" Between the two walls there was nothing but a sandy beach dotted with rocks; the land was a dense scrub, among which a cypress tree stood out. "I'll tell you what it's about. I'll row over and you stay here," said Keel, "and I'm going to see the master here before long, and talk about—" "No!" The little boy's voice became shrill because of panic, "If you row the boat over—" He got up and pushed the boat hard to get the boat off the rock, but at this moment, a huge wave lifted the boat up, and There was a sudden fall, and the boat drifted away under the boy's body.He lost his balance for a moment, his arms danced wildly, his head hit the rocks and fell, sinking slowly into the water like a stone. Keir rushed forward, followed the little boy into the water, and his body hit the underwater seaweed.He grabbed the boy's shirt, but the shirt was torn like paper.He reached for it again, this time by the hair, and lifted him out of the water.He held the boy with ease and looked for the boat as he swam.Because of his powerful jump just now, the boat drifted far away, and it may have drifted behind some rock.There's no time to look for it now. He pushed the boy toward the beach.Here it was only a hundred yards or so to the smooth white sand, sandwiched between two walls that sloped down into the roaring water.As he leaned out of the water, the boy coughed slightly, choking on the salt water up his nose. Gere rides the tide and pushes the boy onto the sand.The boy opened his eyes and looked at him in bewilderment. "You'll be all right," Keel said, "I'll get the boat back before it's too far away." He walked back to the edge of the beach, kicked off his shoes, and swam in the direction the boat sank and floated.He rowed the boat back toward the sea and the rising sun.The wind died down to a whisper in the ear. He docked and picked up the shoes.Leaning against a rock, the little boy turned his head to peek into the forest in a very nervous posture. "Are you feeling better?" Kiel greeted with a smile.It occurred to him that this little misfortune seemed to be a pretty good excuse to land on land owned by a family who obviously valued their privacy very much. The little boy remained motionless, still in that position, watching the low bushes.The huge high wall behind the bushes stands impressively, ancient and peaceful. Keel touched the boy's bare shoulder.He retracted his hand and clenched his fist.He stared at the sand.There were traces in the sand of the boy when he got up, and the meandering footprints of his feet when he ran to hide behind this rock.The little boy was still standing, turning his head to look at the woods, his lips parted slightly, and a look of surprise appeared on his face. Over there, a line of graceful footprints stretched from the low woods to the front of the rock, and then to the back of the rock.The footprints are slender and beautiful, with high arches, as if a woman with bare feet stepped on the sand and suddenly walked over.Looking at the strange footprints, Keel suddenly realized that when he peeked through the small hole in the wall for the first time to see the unimaginably perfect image of the woman and her child inside, he should have understood what happened thing. Kiel knew all the legends of ancient Greece.Looking at the slender footprints on the sand, one of the most terrifying legends suddenly came to his mind: the Gogan sisters (the Gogan sisters are three gorgons in Greek mythology, daughters of the sea god Forcus. Legend They use snakes for hair, and everything they look at turns to stone.)! There are three Gogan sisters, Medusa, Oryal, and Steno, with thin wriggling snakes wrapped around the long hair on their heads.It is said that the three beauties are so terrifying that anyone who dares to look at them will immediately be turned into a stone. Keel stood on the warm sand, the seagulls chirped overhead, and the Aegean sea roared beneath his feet.Now he understood at last who had built the wall, why they had built it all the way to the churning sea—and what the wall meant. Not an English family named Gordon.It was a much older family called the Gogans.Perseus (Perseus, the son of Zeus and Danae in Greek mythology. Under the guidance of Athena, he used a shiny shield as a mirror to reflect on the Gorgon Medusa, and then cut off her head, becoming Hero.) killed Medusa, but her two sisters in hiding, Oryale and Steno, were still alive. still alive.oh god!This is impossible!It's just a myth!And yet—his connoisseur's eyes, clouded by the sweat of terror, noticed the little statue leaning against the rock, head slightly turned, and a surprised expression on his face as he turned his head toward the bushes.Two locks of bangs hang above the eyebrows like two horns, and the head is well-shaped, like a handsome young man in ancient Greece.The sea water dotted the smooth shoulders, and still dripped slowly from the torn shirt wrapped around the waist of the stone. The god Pan made of stone.Yet it was the flawed Pan.A scar stretched from the bridge of the nose to the corner of the mouth.A marble stain slightly lifted Marble's lips, revealing Marble's teeth faintly.A slightly flawed masterpiece. He heard a rustling sound behind him, like the sound of ropes, and at the same time smelled an indescribable fragrance, that sound was clearly the hissing sound that only snakes can make-even though he knew it shouldn't be, he slowed down. Turning his head slowly, he looked back.