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Doomsday and Grim Wonderland

Doomsday and Grim Wonderland


  • romance novel

  • 2023-02-04Published
  • 278595

© www.ebubook.com

Chapter 1 A grim wonderland elevator, silent, fat

The elevator continued to ascend very slowly.Probably on the rise, I think.But I'm not sure.It was so slow that I lost my sense of direction.Maybe the decline is unknown, or it may not be the same.I'm just considering the situation before and after and counting it as rising.Just speculation, without any basis.It is also possible to go up to the twelfth floor, go down to the third floor, go around the earth and return to the original place.Anyway, no way of knowing. The elevator had nothing in common with the cheap elevator in my apartment that had evolved into a water bucket.Because the difference is so great, I suspect that the two are not mechanical devices with the same function and the same name, made for the same purpose.The gap between the two elevators is so large that it may have reached the limit of people's imagination.

The problem is first of all area.The elevator I take now is spacious enough to be used as a small office, enough to fit a desk, a file cabinet, and a floor cabinet. In addition, it is more than enough to separate a small kitchen, and even lead three camels to plant a tree. Medium coconut palms are okay.The second is cleaning, as clean as a new coffin from the factory.The walls and ceiling are all stainless steel, gleaming and spotless.Underneath was a bitter green plush carpet.The third is quietness, so quiet that people are afraid.As soon as I entered, the door closed silently, indeed silently, and suddenly.After that, it was even more silent, almost making people feel that it was running or stopping, just like a deep river flowing quietly.

Another point is that the elevator lacks many accessories that should be equipped with the elevator.There is no control panel with various buttons and switches installed, no floor buttons, no door opening buttons, door closing buttons, and emergency stop devices.In short nothing.So I felt like I lacked any protection.Not only the buttons, but also the floor indicator lights, the number of people and precautions, and even the name plate of the manufacturer is nowhere to be found.I don't even know where the security door is located.It is indeed no different from a coffin.In any case, such elevators are unlikely to be approved by the fire department.Specifications for elevators own elevators.

While staring quietly at the bare and smooth four-sided stainless steel wall, I couldn't help but think of the miracle of Foodini I saw in the movies when I was young.This person was stuffed into a large suitcase tied with ropes and chains, and many iron chains were wrapped around the outside. Together with the box, he was pushed down from the top of Niagara Falls, or thrown into the Arctic Ocean to freeze into ice.I took a slow, deep breath and calmly compared my situation with Foodini's.I was blessed with the fact that my body was not bound, but not knowing why made me passive. If you think about it carefully, don't say why, you don't even know whether the elevator is stopping or moving.I coughed.The cough was also a little strange.Because it doesn't sound like a cough should have no three-dimensional effect, like a handful of soft mud thrown on the concrete wall of the flat board.In any case, I don't think it's the movement of my own body.Out of caution, I coughed again, with the same result.So I became discouraged and stopped coughing.

I stood there in a motionless position for quite some time.The door didn't open no matter how long I waited.Me and the elevator stand still like a still life painting entitled "Me and the Elevator".I feel a little uneasy. Maybe the elevator was out of order, or maybe the elevator operator assumed there was someone in charge of the job somewhere and forgot that I was in this box.My existence is often forgotten.Either way, the consequence is that I'm locked in this stainless steel chamber.I listened attentively and heard nothing.I tried to press my ear against the stainless steel wall again, but there was still no sound.Only the outline of the ear is imprinted on the wall in vain.The elevator is like a metal box with a special design and high-efficiency sound attenuation.I whistled "Young Danny," and it came out like the wheezing of a dog with pneumonia.

Leaning against the elevator wall, I decided to pass the time by counting the change in my pocket.Of course, killing time is an important discipline for someone in my profession, just as a boxer always has a rubber ball in his hand.That said, it's not just a simple way to kill time.It is only through repetition of actions that it is possible to turn individual tendencies into habits. In short, I usually keep a considerable number of small coins in my pocket.Put one hundred yuan and five hundred yuan in the right pocket, and fifty yuan and ten yuan in the left pocket.In principle, one-yuan and five-yuan coins are put into the back pocket of trousers and are not used for calculation.So I put both hands into the left and right pockets, counting one hundred yuan and five hundred yuan with my right hand, and counting fifty yuan and ten yuan with my left hand, and the two go hand in hand. (Refers to Japanese yen. Ten thousand yen is equivalent to about 700 yuan (June 1999).)

Those who have never done this kind of calculation may find it difficult to imagine, and the initial stage is quite difficult.Because the right and left hemispheres of the brain have to perform completely different calculations, and finally put the two sets of numbers together like a cut watermelon.And this is very complicated, if not used to. As for whether it is really necessary to use the left and right hemispheres of the brain separately, I am not sure about this.If you are an expert in brain physiology, you may use a more special term.But firstly, I am not an expert in brain physiology, and secondly, I really feel that the left and right hemispheres of the brain are used separately in the actual calculation.As for the feeling of fatigue after calculation, it seems to be qualitatively different from the fatigue after general calculation.So as a stopgap, I'll assume for the moment that I'm counting the right pocket with the right hemisphere of the brain, and the left pocket with the left.

Generally speaking, I am a person who is accustomed to expedient considerations about all kinds of phenomena, things and existence in the world.This is not because I belong to the expedient personality, of course I admit that I have some such tendencies, but because I find that for most situations in the world, using the expedient method of grasping the essence of things is closer to the essence of things than the orthodox interpretation method. For example, even if we think of the earth as a coffee table instead of a sphere, how much inconvenience is there at the level of everyday life?Admittedly, this is a rather extreme example, not to say that everything can be so arbitrary.It's just that the expedient view of the Earth as a giant coffee table is, in fact, bound to rule out many of the cumbersome problems that arise from the fact that the Earth is a sphere, such as gravity, the date line, and the equator.For people who live an ordinary life, how many times in their life can they not be entangled with the equator and other issues!

For this reason, I try to see things as expediently as possible.My point of view is that the world does contain a variety of, in short, infinite possibilities, and only in this way can it be established.And the choice of possibilities is to some extent determined by each individual who makes up the world.The so-called world is a coffee table made of concentrated possibilities. Then again, it is by no means trivial to perform two distinct calculations simultaneously with the right and left hands.It took me a long time to master this technique, too.Once mastered, in other words, after mastering its knack, this ability will not be easily gained and lost.This is the same as being able to ride a bicycle and swim.Of course that doesn't mean you don't need practice.Only through continuous practice can the ability be improved and the method will be updated.That's why I always take care to keep coins in my pocket, counting more than I can whenever I have time.

At this time, I had three 500-yuan coins, eighteen 100-yuan coins, seven 50-yuan coins, and 16 10-yuan coins in my pocket, totaling 3,810 yuan.It's easy to calculate.To this extent, it is simpler than counting fingers.I leaned contentedly against the stainless steel wall and looked at the front door.The door remained unmoved. I don't know why the elevator doors didn't open for so long.After pondering on the way, I came to such a conclusion: even if the two possibilities of the theory of machine failure and the theory of negligence of the operator and the existence of forgetting me are basically ruled out, it is not impossible.Because it's not realistic.Of course I'm not saying that machine failure and operator negligence can't actually happen.On the contrary, I clearly know that such accidents happen frequently in real life.What I want to say is that in the special reality, of course, it means that in this kind of slippery and stupid elevator, non-particularity may be temporarily excluded as a contrarian speciality.How could someone who is negligent in mechanical maintenance or someone who forgets to operate the elevator after locking visitors in it create such an elegant and bizarre elevator?

The answer is of course no. This is absolutely impossible. So far, they have been extremely nervous, extremely cautious.No matter how big or small, they never let it go, as if every step they took had to be measured with a ruler.As soon as I entered the building, I was stopped by two guards who asked me who I was looking for. Then I checked the list of visitors who made an appointment, checked my driver's license, confirmed my identity with a central computer, and went through my body with a metal detector before pushing me into the elevator. .Even visiting the Mint doesn't come under such scrutiny.And here I am now.In any case it is hard to think that their caution will now be suddenly lost. That leaves the possibility that they put me in this situation on purpose.Probably they didn't want me to notice the elevator's movement, so they drove so slowly that I couldn't tell whether it was going up or down.It might even have a video camera.Surveillance screens were lined up in the guard room at the entrance, and it was not surprising that one of them reflected the scene in the elevator.Being bored, I really wanted to find a camera lens.But after thinking about it, even if I found it, it would be of no use to me.I'm afraid it can only prompt the other party to be more vigilant, and then operate the elevator more slowly.I don't want to run into this bad luck. I already missed the appointment. In the end, all I could do was sit still and do nothing.I'm here for a legitimate mission.There is no need to be timid, and there is no need to be nervous. I leaned against the wall, put my hands in my pockets, and counted the coins again.Three thousand seven hundred and fifty yuan.In a blink of an eye, it's no problem. Three thousand seven hundred and fifty yuan? There is an error in the calculation. Something went wrong. I feel my palms sweating.The zero coin in the pocket was miscalculated, but it has never happened in the past three years, not even once.Either way it's a bad sign.Before this bad omen appears as a real disaster, I must completely recover the lost ground. I closed my eyes and cleaned the left and right hemispheres of my brain like washing eyeglasses.Then he took his hands out of his pockets and opened his palms to let the sweat evaporate.I face Gan in the movie "Warok".Henry Fett.Fonda finished the preparations so neatly.I especially like the film "Warok", although that doesn't matter. After confirming that the left and right palms were completely dry, I reinserted the two pockets and started counting for the third time.If the result of the third calculation is consistent with one of the first two results, then there is no problem.Everyone makes mistakes.Everyone can become neurotic under special circumstances, and one must admit to being somewhat overconfident.My preliminary error was caused by this.In short, I want to come up with accurate figures, and only in this way can I correct my mistakes.Unexpectedly, before I could correct it, the elevator doors opened.It drove without warning and without sound, and quickly split to both sides. Still preoccupied with the change in my pocket, I didn't realize in time that the door had opened.Or to put it more precisely, although he saw that the door had opened, he didn't realize the specific meaning of this situation for a while.Needless to say, the opening of the door means that the two spaces that have been deprived of continuity are connected as one, and it also means that the elevator I took has reached its destination. I stopped my fingers in my pocket and looked out the door.Outside the door is the corridor, and there is a girl standing in the corridor.The girl is young and fat, wearing a pink suit and skirt, and pink high-heeled shoes on her feet.The skirt is well-crafted, bright and smooth.Her face was just as radiant.The girl stared at me for a long time as if confirming, then suddenly nodded, as if to say this way.I stopped counting the money, took my hands out of my pockets, and walked out of the elevator.As soon as I stepped out, the elevator doors closed behind me impatiently. I stood in the hallway and looked around, seeing nothing that suggested my situation.All I can understand is that this is the corridor inside the building.And even elementary school students know this. In a word, this is a building with an unusually smooth interior.Just like the elevator I took just now, the material used is high-grade, but it is slippery and has no grip.The floor is polished marble, the walls are white and yellow, like the butter shortbread I eat every morning, and the corridors are lined with solid and heavy wooden doors with iron plates indicating the room numbers.The room numbers were upside down and confused. Next to 936 is 1213, and then it becomes 26.Such a chaotic arrangement of rooms is unprecedented.Obviously something went wrong. The girl was almost silent.He said please this way to me, but it was just such a change in the shape of his mouth, and he didn't make a sound.I had attended a lip-reading workshop for two months before taking up the job, so I was able to understand what she was saying.At first, I wondered if my ears were out of order, the elevator was silent, and coughing and whistling were inaudible, which made me completely lose my mind in front of the stereo. I try to cough.Its voice is still timid, but after all, it is much more decent than the one in the elevator.So I felt relieved and regained a little confidence in my ears.It doesn't matter, the ear is not hopeless.The ears are normal, the problem is with her mouth. I walked behind the girl.The pointed heels of high-heeled shoes creaked in the empty corridor, just like the sound of a quarry in the afternoon.Two thighs wrapped in a layer of stockings are clearly reflected on the marble floor. The girl is plump and fat.Although she is young and beautiful, she is indeed quite fat.I've always found it weird that young, beautiful girls get fat.I walked behind her and kept looking at her neck, wrists, and legs.His body was plump and full of flesh, as if a thick layer of silent snow had fallen at night. I get confused every time I'm with young, pretty, fat girls.Why this is so I do not know.It may also be because I imagined the other person's diet and life very naturally.Whenever I see an obese girl, I can't help but see her chirping and chomping on the leftover cold rice noodles on the plate, and dipping the last drop of creamy soup with bread reluctantly.I can't help thinking this way.In this way, my mind was filled with the scene of her eating like acid on metal, and all other functions were dulled. If it's just fat, that's all.Just fat girls are like clouds in the sky, they are just floating there, and have nothing to do with me.And if it is a young, beautiful and fat girl, the problem is another matter.I could not but decide what my attitude should be toward her.In a word, it means that I may sleep with her.I think it's about this that makes my head such a mess.Sleeping with a woman with a dead head is not easy. But it's by no means that I hate fat girls.Confused and annoying are not synonymous.I've slept with several fat and beautiful young girls before, and overall the experience was definitely not bad.If confusion is directed in a good direction, it will inevitably produce wonderful results that are not usually obtained.Of course, sometimes things don't go smoothly.Having sex is a very delicate act, not the same as going to the store to buy a thermos on Sunday.Even the same young, beautiful and fat girls have different ways of attaching their fat.A certain method of fatness can lead me to a comfortable direction, while another method of fatness can leave me in the superficial confusion zone. In this sense, sleeping with fat girls is a challenge for me.There are almost as many ways to fatten a person as there are to die.I'm walking down the hallway behind the young, beautiful and fat girl, thinking so much.A white scarf was wrapped around the neckline of her elegant pink suit.Rectangular gold earrings dangled from the chubby earlobes, which flickered like signal lights as she walked.On the whole, she is fat, although she is fat, but she is light.Of course, maybe it was the tight underwear that effectively made her figure look restrained.But even considering this possibility, the swing of his waist can be regarded as graceful and pleasing to the eye.So I started to have a crush on her.Her fat method seems to suit my taste. Not that I'm trying to make excuses, but there aren't that many women who can make me feel good.Generally speaking, the opposite is more the case.Therefore, once you occasionally have a good impression of someone, you really want to test your good opinion.Firstly, I want to confirm whether this favor is true; if it is true, then secondly, I want to observe its effect in my own way. So, I walked up to her side by side and apologized for being eight or nine minutes late. Unexpectedly, it takes so much time to enter the door.I said, besides, the elevator was weird as hell.Arrived at the building ten minutes early. She nodded briskly, as if to say she understood.A scent of cologne wafted from his neck, like the fragrance one smells when standing beside a melon field in a summer morning.This fragrance brought me an indescribable and wonderful state of mind, as if two different types of memories merged and merged in places I didn't know.This is a common thing for me.And most of the time it is caused by a specific smell.Why this is so I have no way of explaining. The hallway is really long.I spoke to her in a casual tone. She glanced at my face as she walked.I could see that she was either twenty or twenty-one.The eyebrows are clear, the forehead is full, and the complexion is attractive. She looked into my face and said Proust.In fact, she didn't pronounce the string of Proust's syllables accurately, but I think the low shape of her lips resembles Proust.The voice is still completely uncapturable, not even the sound of exhalation, it's like talking through a thick glass wall. (1 Proust: 1871-1922, French novelist, whose masterpiece is "Reminiscence of Things Past", good at describing the deep psychology of people.) Proust? Marcel.Proust?I asked. She looked at me with some surprise and repeated Proust.I had to give up trying, retreated to my original position, and followed behind desperately looking for words that matched Proust's lip movement.Women's adultery, North South West East, fat pig deaf I tried to pronounce each of these boring words, but none of them matched exactly.I think she did mean Proust.The question is where to find this long corridor with Marcel.What about the connection between Proust?I am like a cloud. Maybe she moved out Marcel as a metaphor for the long corridor.Proust came.If so, the conception is too abrupt and the wording is not friendly enough.If the long corridor is a metaphor for Proust's works, I can understand it.And the reverse is really inexplicable. Like Marcel.A corridor as long as a Proust work? Anyway, I have to follow her down this corridor.The corridor was indeed long enough, with several turns and five or six short stairs going up and down several times, it was five or six times as long as an ordinary building.Maybe we are going back and forth in a place like Elsa's maze.In short, no matter how you walk, the surrounding scenery remains the same.Marble floors, egg yellow walls, upside down room numbers and wooden doors with stainless steel round pulls.The window is completely gone.Her high-heeled shoes are always making regular footsteps in the corridor with the same rhythm.I followed with the sound of molten rubber on my loafers.My shoes were squishy and loud so exaggeratedly that I really worried that the rubber soles of my shoes were starting to melt.Of course, it was the first time in my life that I was walking on a marble floor in moccasins, and I couldn't figure out whether the sound of such shoes was normal or abnormal.Presumably half of it is normal and the other half is abnormal.Because, I think everything in this place seems to be running at this ratio. She stopped abruptly.Because I had been concentrating all my nerves on the sound of the light shoes, I bumped into her back with a bang.Her back was as soft and comfortable as a good-sized rain cloud, and her neck smelled of cologne.The collision almost knocked her forward, and I quickly grabbed her shoulders with both hands and pulled her up. Sorry, I apologize, was thinking of something. The fat girl blushed a little and looked at me.I can't say for sure, but she doesn't seem angry. Tazsil.As she spoke, she smiled very slightly.Then shrugged and said Sira.Even though she didn't actually say the words I've called out several times but that's how she mouthed it. Tazsil?I said to myself trying to make a sound, Sira? Syrah.She repeated it confidently. Pronounced a bit like Turkish.But the problem is that I have never heard Turkish.So again I thought maybe it wasn't Turkish.My head was getting confused, so I decided to give up trying to talk to him.My lip-reading skills are far from perfect.Lip-reading is a very complex and delicate task, and it cannot be fully mastered through two-month citizen workshops. She took out a pocket calculator from her jacket pocket, and stuck the plane tightly to the lock hole of the wooden door with the 728 sign.With a chirping sound, the door was unlocked.This mechanism is very good. She opened the door, stood there pushing the door, and said to me Somuto.Syrah. I naturally nodded and entered.
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