Chapter 633 - No Where to Run (2/2)

The bedroom window was already half open. Through the window, when the drunkard looked out, a face was looking in. The black hair that looked like cloth plastered on the face and the pale head was trying its best to squeeze through the window!

PA!

The drunkard used all of his strength to slam the window shut, creating a loud noise. His brain was drawing a blank, and it was his body’s reactive nerves that compelled him to slam the window shut.

The head slithered up the thin glass of the window. Its lips opened and closed slowly, and the last few remaining teeth ground against the glass as if it was saying, “I’ve finally found you.”

After locking the window, the drunkard felt like he had exhausted all the energy he had. He collapsed to the ground and looked up at the head at the window. Before he could recover, he felt something wet staining his pants; the sudden cold sensation made him uncomfortable.

With a shuddering gaze, he turned his head down to look. He had fallen on top of the pictures, and blood was spreading on his pants.

Other than that, the drunkard noticed that all the animals’ head had gone missing from the pictures where the animals were abused. The reddish-black blood was seeping out of the stumps where their heads should be.

The drunkard felt the air being sucked out of his lungs, and he crawled swiftly away.

BANG! BANG!

The human head knocked against the window, but the drunkard was not going to take a look. He forced himself up and ran back into the house.

“Help, help, where are all the other people‽” He crawled back into the corridor, intending to find a different room to hide, but once he got out, he saw a shadow leaning at the corner of the stairs leading to the second floor. It looked like a dog but also like a man!

“What is that‽” Too afraid to get close to the stairs, the drunkard turned and hid inside the closest room. He closed the door without even realizing what kind of room it was. He locked the door and gasped hungrily for air while leaning on the door. For a normal person, he was already quite mentally strong considering the experience that he had been through.

“No, I can’t die here! I need to leave and group up with the rest!” The drunkard now realized how important it was to stick together. He moved the table to block the door and started to observe his surroundings.

A stove, a fridge, and a large kitchen cupboard.

“Is this the kitchen?” The drunkard looked around and realized that this was not good for him. He had entered the kitchen, and the worst thing was that there was no window in this room.

“It’s over.”

There was the sound of glass shattering coming from outside, and the wind chime in the corridor screamed even louder. The drunkard refused to give up. Compelled by a strong will to survive, he started to rummage through the kitchen to look for anything useful.