The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Jack Ma still remembers the screams, gunfire, and terrible laughter echoing in the staff dormitory area.

But at the moment, the worst thing for him is the cold. Only when their breath leaves their mouth and nose, it will turn into mist and take away precious warmth.

Obviously, the life support system of the space station is gradually paralyzing.

Jack Ma is not a doctor, but he knows that they can't live one more night in the space station.

Those killers, no matter what they are, may want to force the surviving people out of their hiding places.

It may also be that they are tired of hunting and just want to freeze the remaining people in hiding.

Both ideas are not very comfortable anyway.

"Have you heard?"

Jack Ma whispered.

Some kind of metal product was beating the metal in front of them.

The three stopped at the same time, and three beams of light swept forward across the corridor.

But there was nothing but an empty corridor, but the creaking sound was still playing.

"That movement... It's a turbo fan."

Dimo, who was once a plumber repairman, whispered:

"It's just a ventilation fan."

Jack Ma turned around, avoiding the man's wide-eyed eyes and the erratic stench on his body.

"you sure?"

"It's just a ventilating fan, I think so. I often come to check this area."

Dimo's voice was trembling like his hands.

"I have worked in those pipes, and I know the sounds they make."

"Then go."

They act with exaggerated caution, and they know very little about what the killers can feel.

Only Dimo ​​saw the killer. He saw the most clearly, but he just refused to say it. Michel, the cleaner behind the trio, claimed to see clearly than Dimo, but there was still not much clue—white. Skulls, huge red eyes, they know this.

In fact, Jack Ma knew that Michelle fled before he could see anything. He rushed in from a maintenance hatch and walked down the crawling tunnel panting. The others were rattled behind him. Dismembered.

Of course, Jack Ma was not there yet. He had been in the smallest aisle since he heard the report of the attacker landing for the first time. They were all dead, only the most cautious Jack Ma survived.

"It's too cold, we must move, and then pray that there will be heat in other areas of the space station."

Jack Ma had also considered giving up, lying in a narrow crawling space in a repair hole, and letting frost take him away, so that things were much simpler-he might not rot after he died.

At least not until the heat exchanger is restarted...

But he still couldn't accept making himself a corrupt stain on steel.

When the three reached the next intersection, Jack Ma stopped again, trying to listen to his heartbeat.

Afterwards, he began to move along the passage on the left.

"That's a dead end."

Jack Ma heard Dimo ​​sigh, but the other person said nothing.

"This is the way to the cafeteria."

He explained as softly as possible:

"We need supplies. Now is not the time to argue. If the attackers are satisfied, they may leave. We must struggle to survive in a cold space station. Food is a must."

"But that's not the way to the cafeteria, the cafeteria is on the left."

Dimo pointed to the opposite corridor.

"It leads to the eastern technical deck."

Jack Ma shook his head and denied the other party's statement.

"It's not."

"I've been here several times!"

Dimo's voice grew louder and louder, with a grievance.

"We should go this way."

As they argued, the nearby ventilation fan continued to make a slow clicking sound.

"move."

Michelle said to Jack Ma:

"Leave him alone."

"No, no, I'm here, don't leave me."

"Then lower your voice."

Jack Ma said softly, wondering if this would really affect it.

"The flashlight is too."

Jack Ma led them forward to another left turn.

There was another long corridor ahead, and then they turned cautiously to the right.

But suddenly, Jack Ma froze at the turn and reluctantly directed his flashlight along the corridor to the entrance to the double bulkhead of the cafeteria.

"Do not……"

His voice was soft and weak, and he couldn't even whisper.

"What's wrong?"

Dimo asked in a low voice, but Jack Ma just squinted his stinging eyes and let the beam of light flicker around the shattered porch.

The joints of the bulkheads fell off, and ripped metal ripped off the walls like a mess.

"Oh no."

He murmured:

"Those **** have been here."

"They are everywhere."

Michelle almost sighed.

The three stood shivering in the bitter cold, and the flashlight beam weakened with the shaking of their hands.

"let's go."

In the end, Jack Ma made up his mind.

"Walk quietly."

When they approached the damaged door, Dimo ​​sniffed the air.

"I smell something."

Jack Ma then took a slow breath. The air was cold enough to burn his lungs with ice, but he couldn't smell anything damned except for the damp metal and his own stench.

"I didn't smell it, what?"

"Spices, spoiled spices...what seems to be adulterated? It's blood, the smell of blood!"

Jack Ma turned his head from Dimo's trembling eyes, needless to say, the other party has collapsed now.

He could only make the first turn, tiptoe to the torn door, looked around the huge cabin in the red light like a siren, and all the real details were shrouded in gloom.

Dozens of tables were overturned, thrown in disorderly manner, the dark walls were dented by the touch of gunfire, and the floor was littered with scattered chairs-undoubtedly, this was a useless barricade wreck.

But corpses, piles of corpses, lying on the table and on the ground, spread out, covered in frost, opened eyes gleaming with the light of ice crystals, and the blood stains under them became weird and beautiful. Ruby glass pool.

But at least, nothing is moving.

Behind him, Michelle also raised the flashlight to let the light in.

As the darkness separates in front of the flashlight ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ reveals many things that emergency lighting cannot show.

"God Emperor, what's the matter?"

Seeing the terrible slaughterhouse, Michelle immediately lowered the flashlight.

"You stay here."

Jack Ma turned his head and said.

"Don't run around, don't make any noise, I will take out the supplies, and then we will go to the infirmary to have a look, where the sealing measures are the best, and there is an independent small oxygen generator, maybe we can carry it."

He walked into the cafeteria, his boots crunching on the red glass splashed with frozen blood, the breath he exhaled was like a cloud of white mist, and gradually dissipated as he moved in the dim light.

Although it is not easy to keep a distance from the corpses, Jack Ma tries not to touch them, but occasionally he can't help but take a look.

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