Chapter 50 Chapter Forty-Nine

By the morning of the fourth day, Mr. Gumb was ready to be skinned. He came into the house with the last things he bought that he needed, and he ran down the basement stairs in a state of overwhelming excitement.In the tailoring room, he opened the shopping bag: new bias seam piping, a Lycra panel to go under the hem, a box of clean table salt.He has not forgotten a thing. In the studio, he lays out his knives on a clean towel by the long sink.There were four knives: a concave-backed skinning knife; a fine spatula with the point down, which followed the curve of the forefinger in a pinch; a scalpel for the most delicate work; There is a bayonet knife from the First World War, the rolled blade of the bayonet is the best tool for scraping the flesh off the skin without tearing the skin.

In addition, he also has a Stryker saw for dissecting corpses, which he has hardly used, and he regrets buying it. Now he lubricated the seat of one of the wigs' heads, patted coarse salt on the grease, and placed the seat in a shallow grease pan.Playfully, he pulled the nose on the face of the wig holder and blew a kiss to it. His behavior is hardly responsible for anything else - he wants to fly around the room like Danny Kaye!He laughed, and with a single breath he blew away a moth that was about to jump on his face. With fresh solution in the tank, it's time to start the pump.Oh, is there still a beautiful chrysalis buried in the humus soil in the cage?He put a finger in and probed, and yes, there were chrysalis buried there.

Now it's time for the pistol. How does this person kill?This question troubled Mr. Gumb for many days.Hanging her was out of the question, because he didn't want her chest to be mottled with blood; besides, he couldn't risk the knot of the sling tearing the skin behind her ear. Mr. Gumm has gained, sometimes painfully, from each of his previous attempts.He made up his mind to avoid some of the nightmares he had had before. People have a basic instinct: no matter how hungry they are, or how frightened they are, they will always fight you when they see the murderous instrument. .

He'd used his infrared goggles to hunt young women through pitch-dark basements in the past with the help of infrared light; it was wonderful to watch them fumble around and try to curl themselves into corners. up!He liked to hunt them down with a pistol.He likes to use a pistol.They always lost their way when they fiddled, lost their balance, and bumped into things when they moved.He could stand in absolute darkness with goggles on, wait for them to put the word off their face, and shoot right in the head.Or beat the legs first, below the knees, so that they can still crawl. It was childish and wasteful to do that, and they were useless after that, so he had now given up the practice entirely.

With his current plan, the first three he offered them to go upstairs to take a shower, and then put a sling around their necks and kick them down the stairs—no problem at all.But the fourth was a disaster.He had to use the pistol in the bathroom and it took him an hour to clean it up.He thought of the girl, wet and covered with goosebumps, the way she shivered when he pulled the trigger of the pistol!He likes to pull the trigger, click, click, and bang; there's nothing to be noisy about anymore. He loves his pistol, and he should, because it's a beautiful weapon, stainless steel Colt leather, with a six-inch barrel, and all the moving parts of the leather are made to order Made by the Colt shop, this one is very pleasant to the touch.He cocked the trigger now, pulled, and held the hammer with his thumb.He loaded the leather gun and placed it on the table in the studio.

Mr. Gumm was very keen to offer shampoo for this one to wash her hair, because he wanted to see how she combed her hair, how she groomed herself, how her hair was arranged on her head, and he could learn a lot from it.But this one is tall, and probably very strong, and this one is too rare to take any chances, and the whole thing will be ruined if he is shot and wounded. No, he's going to the bathroom and fetching his lifting block, giving her a bath, and when she's safe in the net, hang her up, halfway down this prison-like deep well, right Several shots were fired from the lower part of her spine.Once she's unconscious, other tasks can be handled with chloroform.

Just do it.He's going upstairs now and taking off all his clothes.He's going to wake up the baby to watch the video with him, and then start moving; here in the heat of the basement, he's going to be naked, as he was when he was born. He felt almost groggy as he went up the stairs.He quickly undressed and put on his nightgown.He plugged in the power to the VCR. "Baby, come on, baby." What a busy day!Come on, sweetheart!He had to shut her up in this bedroom so he could go down to the basement and take care of the noisy part of the job--she hated the sound, it always disturbed her so much.To keep her from idleness, he bought her a whole carton of chews while he was out shopping.

"Baby!" she didn't come, so he went into the hall and called, "Baby!" Then he went to the kitchen and into the basement and shouted, "Baby!" When he reached the door of the dungeon room, he heard a echo: "She's down here, you son of a bitch!" Catherine Martin said. Mr. Gumm's heart sank suddenly, he was worried about the baby, and felt uncomfortable all over his body.Then, fury made his body tense again, and he clenched his fists against the sides of his head; he pressed his forehead against the doorjamb, trying to steady himself.When he was about to vomit, he made a sound; he groaned a while, which caused the puppy to bark.

He came to the studio and picked up the pistol. The string attached to the toilet was broken.He still doesn't know how she broke it.The last time the rope was broken, he guessed that the other party was trying to climb up, which is really absurd.They'd tried to climb before -- they'd done every stupid thing imaginable. He leaned over to face the hole, carefully controlling his voice. "Honey, are you okay? Answer me." Catherine twisted on the dog's fat legs.The dog barks and bites her arm in return. "Well?" said Catherine. Talking to Catherine like this seemed unnatural to Mr. Gumb, but he overcame his disgust.

"I put a basket down, you put her in!" "You put down a phone, or I'll break her neck! I don't mean to hurt you, or the dog. Just give me the phone." Mr. Gumb took up his pistol.Catherine saw the barrel of the gun sticking out through the light.She crouched down and lifted the dog over her head, swinging it between her and the gun.she He heard him pull the trigger. "Shoot the fuck! Kill it fast or I'll break her bird's neck! I swear to God I will!" She held the dog under her arm, pinched her hands around its mouth and nose, and turned its head. "Back off, you son of a bitch!" the puppy whined.The gun was withdrawn.

Catherine brushed her hair back from her damp forehead with her free hand. "I didn't mean to insult you," she said, "you just put a phone down for me. I want a working phone. You can leave and I won't mind your business, just act like I never I haven't seen you. I'll take good care of you baby." "No." "I'll take care of everything she'll have. Think about her happiness, don't just think about yourself. You shoot here and she'll be deafened anyway. All I want is a working phone. Find a root Long string, five or six twisted together - just tie the ends of them together - and put them down here. I'll fly you the dog wherever it goes. I have dogs at home too; my mother Just love dogs, you can run, I don't care what you do." "You will never have water to drink again, what you drink is your last water." "I wouldn't have her without her, and I wouldn't give her a drop of water from my water bottle. I'm sorry to tell you, but I think she broke one of her legs." That was a lie—the puppy, along with the The bait bucket fell down on Catherine. Unfortunately for Catherine, the dog's paws scratched and scratched one side of her face.She couldn't put the dog down or he would see that it wasn't limping. "It's suffering. Her leg is all crooked and she's trying to get a tummy. It's making me sick!" Catherine made up a story. "I'll have to take her to the vet." Mr. Gumb groaned in anger and pain, and the puppy barked at the sound. "You think she's suffering," said Mr. Gumm. "You don't know what suffering is. If you hurt her I'll burn you to death!" Catherine Martin sat down at the sound of his stomping up-stairs; she was trembling, with severe spasms in her arms and legs.She couldn't hold a dog, she couldn't hold water, she couldn't hold anything. She hugged the puppy tightly as it climbed onto her lap.She was grateful for the warmth the dog gave her.