Evil always comes from courage

I was helplessly pushed by the crowd and looked at the faces that were surging, excited for death, shouting for the punishment pronounced by the short-term rights, and the faces that were angry but full of faith in justice.

I suddenly realized that the crowd is the real god. As long as people gather together, they are the power that can distort all reality. They are justice and they are judges! Transform into a torrent that can drown all truth.

Henry Jane's head also fell down. It was the way I saw him for the first time. His eyelids were slightly closed, and there were dry and yellow hair soaked by the sea water, some of which were stuck to the blood. On those pale and thin cheeks.

He looked like he was when he was fished out of the sea. I looked at his limp body and head. I suddenly realized one thing. When Henry Jane was dragged to the gallows, he seemed to have been there for a long time. Just die.

There was no struggle or resistance. He didn't even come up. He was surrounded by others. The crowd behind him pushed him. The people in front dragged him to the gallows and hung him up like hanging meat. Can't even stand up.

Pope Waldo actually pronounced a crime in public and executed a corpse? What a ridiculous and grotesque madness!

Listening to these deafening shouts, those people stretched out their eager hands towards the black-robed god of death who was no longer among the crowd and stood in front of the gallows.

I felt my face begin to twitch and twist, those voices shouted devotion! Judgment! justice! truth! I felt a surging and unbelievable power that was encouraging me to join in with faith in justice.

I struggled violently, but I felt something wrapped around me. Fear made me close my eyes and not want to see anything. Only my limbs were stirring crazily, trying to escape.

I was babbling, but I couldn't speak. It seemed like something was stuck in my throat, like my heart was spitting out and I couldn't swallow it, but it was beating loudly in my throat.

I don’t know how long it took, but I suddenly woke up. To be honest, I don’t know if I really woke up.

The feeling in the dream was too real. I could feel the wind washing me, and I could also feel the bone-chilling chill I felt when I looked at the black-robed messenger.

I can even hear the slight trembling of those crazy crowds when their throats are uncomfortable from shouting, those passionate roars that overdraw their vocal cords, the flying spittle, and the feeling of being squeezed in the crowd and compressing their ribs. It hurts.

The room was very dark, and I sat in silence for a moment. It was empty except for the deathly loneliness and the restless heart that had nowhere to rest, nowhere to put.

Finally I couldn't help but collapsed and covered my face and sobbed softly, ah! I’m really scared. When can we go home? Why does this happen on the ship? How on earth can we find the way back, and how many people will die!

I don’t want to be an enemy of Susan Warrior, I don’t want to interfere with Pope Waldo’s beliefs, I don’t want to know who the murderer is, I don’t want to know the reality of the death, I don’t want to judge anyone, I don’t want to save anyone, I don’t want to do anything!

Vaguely, my peripheral vision seemed to catch something, like a figure shaking in the darkness in the corner, and my sobbing voice stopped abruptly.

I looked at the dark corner warily. Am I still awake? Am I still crying alone in that extremely real dream? Who is that thing? Is that the grim reaper in the black cloak staring at me?

It's really unpleasant...

I touched the table. There were several cups on it. One of them was half filled with black tea, and the remaining cups were upside down on the tablecloth. If I moved forward half a minute, I could still touch them. There is a black teapot in front that has long since gone cold.

"It's so unpleasant...where are you...and what are you doing! ?"

I yelled angrily, venting my anger. At the same time, I also threw the cup in my hand towards the dark place!

La la la... The cup hit something and broke into pieces. The dark shadow did not change and was still standing there, as if the cup had passed through and there was nothing at all.

Ah... this is a dream... this is another dream... I haven't woken up yet, but this The abnormal pain in my chest is telling me that I am extremely angry.

"Why! Why did you do this! Whose life do you want to steal? ? Who else do you want to kill?"

During my angry questioning, I unknowingly picked up another cup and smashed it towards the black figure in the darkness again with great force.

There was another cracking sound. Come on, the black shadow seemed to shake in surprise.