Chapter 43 Chapter 43 [VIP]
It was getting later and later. Megan squatted in the corner, looking at the shadow again.
Light shone down from the ceiling behind her, and her shadow fell on the wall in front of her. Megan looked at the dark shadow. When she didn't move, the shadow didn't respond, but her chest rose and fell with her breathing, and there were slight changes, which were also reflected in the shadow she was looking at.
It was very quiet here, so at a certain moment, Megan could hear her own heartbeat, a series of muffled sounds, they knocked on a certain door, and a lot of water overflowed from the gap in the door that was gradually opening.
The damp vapor enveloped her all of a sudden, making her feel that the whole world was dull and gloomy.
It felt like her breathing had become heavy, her heartbeat was labored, and Megan didn't understand why. She felt a little unwell, but she couldn't establish an understanding of her illness, and didn't realize whether she was good or bad. She regarded everything that happened to her as ordinary, as "normal". As for the small pills she took every day -
Without Bob's prompting, she couldn't remember anything at all, let alone connect her current condition with the pills.
She returned to the empty world, but more and more water flowed out from the crack of the door, slowly drowning her and her soul. She didn't know when the water fell on her face. Megan came to her senses and looked up, but there was no water anywhere except her face.
Megan moved and turned around to see the Joker leaning against the lab table, deep in thought. He didn't even glance over here. She wanted to walk over, but his body was too heavy, pulling her so hard that she couldn't move. She could only stay in this corner, unable to make any more moves.
When she sank into the water, the feeling of draining away disappeared, but Megan rested her forehead against the wall, and her senses had never been so sharp.
The ubiquitous water not only pressed down on her, but also tried to rush into her head. However, there were too many of them, and they still stubbornly tried to pry open her skull, open her cerebral cortex, and pour them all in.
Her head felt heavy, swollen and painful. It could only be supported by leaning against the wall. Otherwise, her neck would collapse and her head would fall to the ground... She suddenly had this association: if her head fell off, it might not hurt anymore, but soon the pain that came with the wave overwhelmed everything.
Tides were occurring in her mind and body, wave after wave, endlessly and increasingly intensely.
In addition to her heartbeat, Megan's ears were filled with sharp noises that appeared for no reason and came and went repeatedly along with the nerve throbbing.
Her eyes were still open, tears were dripping from her eye sockets, winding into lines, and she supported herself on the wall with both hands, pressing her cheeks against it. The wall below was very cold, and the pain seemed to be relieved when she pressed her cheeks against it, making her even more motionless.
In the blindingly white environment, the passage of time becomes blurred.
As for the clown, he watched his own fun curled up in the corner, where he had been for at least a few hours, long past her bedtime. But who could sleep in pain and suffering? At least not little Megan.
He knew Megan's situation very well. He watched her suffer and torment, but he didn't feel any remorse at all. What did he do?
He was just acting half-heartedly and 'happened' to forget how to take the pills. Then he saw Megan's real reaction after stopping the medication. She was in pain, and the headache made her shrink into the corner with almost all her strength. She looked completely insecure.
When the clown thought it was enough, he walked over and casually twisted her face, and saw that her eyes became empty and lifeless, almost returning to her original state.
She was so fragile that even the slightest bit of pain would make her shrink back and want to close herself off again.
The clown was not very satisfied with her posture, and his expression showed a hint of this. He let go of his hand with boredom, but considering that she still needed to be well maintained so that he could do some new experiments next time, he bent down and picked her up from the ground.
He was used to comforting her, and habitually patted her back, curling his lips and saying, "Okay, go to sleep, my child, when you wake up..." These were just cheap and worthless words. Except for Megan, no fool would believe anything he said.
There were several small compartments in this underground laboratory, and there was a bed in one of the rooms. After he put Megan down, he lost interest and walked out to tidy up the laboratory.
There wasn't much in total. As for the raw materials for the pills? Many drugs that act on nerves are contraband. Because they are highly addictive, they are not only medicines, but can also become "poisons." Starch is commonly added to pills, and the most common ingredient in pills is starch!
The clown glanced at the laboratory table. Some things still needed to be put away, and he just glanced at the powder that was still being mixed and didn't care. He was about to walk out of the basement when he suddenly stopped.
Megan, who was carried into the room, opened her half-closed eyes. Her eyes were dry, her eye sockets were red and swollen from crying, and her head was still aching. But she moved with difficulty like a rusty robot and slowly sat up. As soon as she stood up, she suddenly felt dizzy, and her head felt so heavy that it seemed to drag her whole body to the ground.
She was walking in deep water, and even when she walked out of the room and into the glaring light, her vision was dim and blurry.
It took a lot of effort to make herself move. Megan had nothing in her mind. She stood in front of the clown blankly and she was crying again.
The clown looked down at the child, watching her struggle in the vortex of pain. What was she trying to do after waking up and forcing herself so hard? Was she going to cry to her father?
Megan's head was dizzy and she was too weak to look up. Her eyes fell on the clown's hand hanging at his side. He always wore leather gloves of the same color as his suit. Many times he held her hand or pinched her cheek. The leather felt very slippery and cold.
She breathed slowly, everything she thought of was shattered by the pain and the endless suffering. It was tiring to breathe in and out, and she had no strength left, but looking at his hanging hand, Megan reached out and grabbed it.
...You come from one dream to another, where is the real thing?
The answer is - by my side.
My side is your everything.
Megan, you are rejecting pain, not life.
Don't let your fears get you down.
You are here, by my side, and there is no pain.
I am very happy that you have such independent behavior. You are my proudest child.
…
The words he spoke poured into Megan's mind, rolling over and over to prove their existence, trying to prove the existence of a certain thing or emotion.
Then the water that drowned her was given a way to vent, and all the waters rushed out one after another. They came and left without any reluctance, leaving completely.
When the door that was overflowing with water suddenly opened, there was no trace of water. Megan fell out from behind the door and grabbed another person's hand with her hand that could no longer hold the water.
She briefly regained consciousness amidst the severe headache. When she looked up at the clown, her neck was still bent backward uncontrollably, and her head was so heavy that it seemed to be pulling her to the ground. However, she murmured, "...Daddy."
Megan opened her eyes wide, wanting to see every reaction of the clown. She had become a little smarter and knew to ask for confirmation. In addition to love, her eyes also expressed a sense of confusion and aimlessness. She had to find a landing point before she could land, otherwise she would leave again.
So will the Joker let her have her wish?
As the smile on his face grew wider, Megan, the silly child, was still expressing himself: "Daddy, it hurts."
Even as she spoke, the headache and pain briefly left, but she cried even harder, still expressing the pain, saying, "I don't want..." What did she not want? Was she trying to reject the pain?
Megan thought, she didn't want this, but why?
This world is so scary, everything is eerie and full of threats, and she doesn't understand. She doesn't know what is going on. In the great confusion and fear, even she is about to lose herself. The water that once left has turned into mist and returned. It still wants to cover her, take her back from the outside world and hide her.
She expressed everything she had and what she wanted, but the clown still didn't respond. Before the last light in her eyes faded, the clown leaned over and gave her a hug.
There is no doubt that the clown has got what he wanted. Look at this ignorant child who was deceived by him. She is so pitiful and cute, just because he picked her up, brought her huge lies, and did everything that made her suffer. But now she has completely forgotten those bad things and believes the illusion he wove into reality.
She was still asking for it from him, the instigator. How interesting... This was his property, a little seed that he had personally changed and cultivated, and it had remained pure and innocent in Gotham.
This is something no one can do!
The Joker had anticipated this moment since he first received this gift, but when everything went as expected without any deviation and smoothly to an incredible degree, he still couldn't help but be surprised.
The clown hugged her and finally showed a look of satisfaction. He smiled and kissed her forehead and said, "Good girl! You are always so considerate and will let me get everything I want." Who wouldn't say she is well-behaved?
She was now crying like a newborn baby out of fear and anxiety. Of course, she was not as noisy as that. She just sobbed slowly from her chest, her throat, and her soul, and the tears she shed even wet a piece of his clothes.
This little thing was not worth worrying about at all. The clown picked her up, patted her still thin back and slowly coaxed her, "It's not good to cry too much, little Megan."
"If you're patient and wait a little longer, the little pill will be ready and you won't feel the pain anymore."
Would Megan believe such a lie? He was obviously about to leave at that time!
The author has something to say:
I finished writing the first update ahead of time today! (Excited) I’ll post it as soon as I finish it!
I was also talking to a colleague today about how, in order to capture the emotions and understand how to write, I wrote about the clown laughing, and I was laughing too, with my mouth stretched wide and the corners of my mouth twitching. By the end of the day, my face felt stiff (it had been stiff and painful for days). I was still wondering why, but it was so strange!
I don't know why, but I always feel that it seems quite scientific for a clown to raise cubs (bushi). Where does this illusion come from? Do you have any idea, Ugly Dad?
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