When I saw such retro buildings in this city, I was really fascinated. If the old leader hadn't been urging me next to me, maybe I would have tasted a cup of fragrant tea under the old locust tree and sighed at life - by the way, I don't like drinking tea.

Behind the dark red drama stage is the place where the actress saw the ghost.

As soon as I entered the backstage, I saw rows of mirrors on both sides of the left and right. There were mirrors reflected inside the mirrors, giving people a feeling of confusion.

"It's this place. Miss Ye, I'll leave first, I'll come over tomorrow morning." The old team leader was very scared of this place when he saw it.

The old leader left and left me alone in front of a mirror, staring at myself in the mirror in a daze.

The person in the mirror has no expression on his face, his hair is loose, his eyes are unconscious, and his lips are slightly lighter. No matter how you look at it, he looks like a Sadako.

I don’t know how long I have been sitting here. As time passed slowly, my thinking was always very chaotic, constantly jumping and flipping. At first, I thought it was my own active mind, but after a long time, I felt something was wrong.

This is not my thought... I was stuffed into my head that I shouldn't have entered. The most common one was a woman, with her lower half extremely enlarged face. She could only see that her skin was pale, but her lips were as bright as blood. The pale hand with a long blood-red nail polish was gently fiddling with her collar.

Very charming.

When I came to my senses, the big bell in the city center had already ringed twelve times, and the low bell echoed in the background.

I seemed to see the glass in the mirror vibrating, as if it was rippling water surface slowly spreading.

After everything calmed down, I saw a woman reflecting in the mirror.

Not me.

The woman was wearing plain clothes and black hair, her face was very pale, but her lips were strangely red.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

I saw her slowly picking up the oil paint brush on the table in the mirror, gently dipping the white oil paint from the rouge box, then she raised her head and looked at me outside the mirror - in fact, I think she was looking at herself in the mirror.

She looked at it for a long time before slowly stretching out her hand - reaching out to the outside of the mirror.

I saw that the obviously very delicate hand seemed to have passed through a layer of invisible diaphragm. It slowly, slowly, slowly, and slowly began to corrode from the fingertips. The white and tender hand gradually became riddled with holes, and rotten meat kept falling from it. Occasionally, one or two white maggots could be seen poking out a head and then shrank back in disappointment.

I could smell the sour smell and solidified bloody smell that was unique to the rotten corpse.

Very disgusting.

I wanted to hide, but for some reason, after looking at the mirror, I still didn't move away from my position.

I watched the oil paint fall on my face.

It was very light, but I felt an unspeakable tingling feeling, like someone holding a knife and drawing it on my face one stroke, one stroke, one stroke, one stroke.

That feeling was like the oil paint, engraved in my bones.

It hurts so much.

I hate makeup because I have a little allergic to cosmetics. I don’t know what the rouge foundation used for opera is made of, but it doesn’t give me any allergic symptoms.

The tingling sensation stopped as the oil paint stopped.

If it weren't for the feeling of any liquid flowing down my face, I was wondering if I had been disfigured.

The woman looked at her again for a long time.

She finally slowly retracted her hand, and once again through the invisible diaphragm, her hand became tender again.

I saw her pick up another smaller rouge brush and look towards me again.

I began to get a little bored - as long as I think of this, the idiot president, I can imagine him rolling on the ground with a smile.

I finally wanted to move away, but soon I realized that I couldn't do this - there were many hands that had climbed up to the chair under my seat when I was in great pain, and even a broken hand had climbed up to my shoulder.

My heart sank. My broken hands kept falling from the sky or coming out from the ground, gradually covering my entire body.

Only my face, because I had to provide that woman with makeup, was not covered by those broken hands.

I felt my heart start to beating uncontrollably. To be honest, for a moment I wanted to scream, but the scream that rushed into my mouth was swallowed by me - many times ghosts killed people because of human screams. I can't be sure if this woman is the same.

I saw another rouge brush reaching my cheek, on which was a rotten hand bone, emitting a strong sour smell and bloody smell.

The rouge brush was also very soft - but I also felt the biting pain. I began to wonder if I wanted to wash off the makeup, so I could only tear off the entire face?

The rouge was applied very quickly. I saw her retracting her hand, and the freshly added red color on the rouge clearly told me that this time I applied blush. I used my own blood.

The wind blew, and the face was filled with unbearable pain.

I saw her take out a small oil paint brush again, and I am sure this time I want to draw eyeshadow and lipstick.

Before she reached out, I began to try to break free from the thick trembling broken hands on my body. Very good - failed. By the way, I also angered the woman in the mirror.

I saw her raising her head viciously, her hand was more than twice as fast as before, and the force acting on my face also increased a lot.

It hurts a lot.

It's similar to the pain of the eyes being dug out.

The woman's oil paint brush poked hard at my eyelids, and I felt a thin layer of water mist in front of my eyes. She drew it so quickly that my eyes were blinded very quickly.

When she turned to lipstick after finishing her eye shadow, I felt like I could see almost nothing.

She also tried very hard when she was painting lipstick, so that only a few pieces of meat left on her rotten arm fell on the table in front of me.

My lips were light in color. So I felt that she seemed a little angry. The obviously not very hard brush seemed to have become a thorn in her hands. I felt my lips bleeding.

Sweet smell of blood.

She finally stopped.

I looked at her work in front of me with satisfaction.

I couldn't see me, but I could believe it was a very scary makeup. I saw her frowning suddenly, as if she had found a flaw in the perfect work, and she stretched out her hand again. Her hand, which was left with only bones and beating blood vessels, reached towards my mouth, pulling the corners of my mouth upwards.

The strong sour smell made me almost vomit. After finally frozen my expression in a disgusting curve, she retracted her hand again.

The broken hands seemed to have received some order, and all flew into the mirror with a silence - except for one broken hands, crawling towards my neck, and choking my neck hard.

My pupils shrank, and I instinctively reached out and grabbed the broken hand that was pinching my neck, trying desperately to cut it off - I want to suffocate!!

I felt that my hand was pinching harder and I knew that my face had started to turn purple without looking at it - if the white oil paint was not too heavy - my hand was desperately digging on the broken hand, and rotten meat kept stuffing into the cracks of my nails, which was very disgusting.

"Come on, come on," it was a very musical voice. Is it... it's my hallucination? Am I going to die? Are you going to die? "Come on..."

Just as I was thinking about it, I felt the hand on my neck suddenly loosen, and the feeling of blood rushing to my brain instantly made me confused. The white snowflakes in front of me slowly dissipated, and I saw that the rotten broken hand was still pinching my neck without exerting force, but there was a smell of rotten corpse, which was very disgusting.

I felt something rushing into my throat.

As my eyes shifted, I saw the woman in the mirror opposite standing up, facing away from me, and slowly taking out a gorgeous dress from the colorful clothes. The bright red tones and golden edges were hooked, which had a very royal smell.

But I don't like it very much. It's so grand... Compared to this, I like the costumes designed by the president on me.

I saw the dress being draped on the woman, and at the same time I felt a sticky dress falling on me.

Trying to turn my eyes, I saw a complete picture of human skin draped on me.

With warmth and blood, human skin that has just been peeled off from a living person.

I felt my body suddenly become cold, and my heart palpitations keep coming from the bottom of my heart, and I start to feel frightened.

What I... fear the most is human skin...

A scream that I had suppressed for unknown how long it had finally penetrated my throat. I reached out and grabbed the broken hand that was holding my neck, and kept pulling it outwards, but the broken hand was very strong! The more I was trying to pull, the more powerful it was!

But if I don’t pull him away, I can’t shake off the human skin!

The woman in the mirror has already dressed!

I saw her slowly turn around, and her blood-red lips moved slightly: "It's going to start... Official, come on... Come on..." Then, I saw her slowly piercing out of the mirror, and the white and tender skin suddenly became corrupt under the unknown diaphragm.

You recognized the wrong person!! I am not your official! I am a woman! I looked at her outstretched hands and grabbed my shoulders. With force, I could even hear my shoulders making a crackling sound.

pain!
Chapter completed!