Ice strygwyr Eye

"WaOoooo!Wa Ooooo! WaOoooo!!"

In the garbage box under the snowstorm, there came a piercing scream. The voice came from the unbearable pain of the little beggar, who would never scream even in the face of absolute adversity.

In that small space, the pain came from his arm. For some reason, the chain that had held the hilt of the sword suddenly moved like a snake! The chains ran up to the beggar's arm and wound around his right forearm. You can wrap it around, and the side of the chain where the meat comes in contact pops out like a thousand barbs like saws! As the chains moved, the barbs cut open the beggar's arms and rubbed against his bones. Like a chainsaw, tearing at his body.

Under the night sky, no one notices what happens in a garbage can. The beggar's right hand was mangled by chains, but the chains continued to twist and turn as if they had no end. His aorta was cut open and blood spilled. His blood began to gather in the hollow in the middle of the black hilt, moving along the shifting chains as if drawn by some mysterious force.

Normal blood makes up about eight percent of the body's weight, and in theory, the human body can sustain a loss of up to 50 percent of the total. A 10-year-old weighs about 28 kilograms, so a child's blood volume is about 2.24 kilograms. The limit is 1.12 kilograms.

The saw continued to pull.

The little beggar's whine had died away, and the tiny body was convulsed and pale. His body temperature was dropping and a thin layer of frost was rapidly covering his body.

A kilo of blood was yanked out of his body and collected along the chain into the black pit that seemed to have no bottom. And so it went on, as if the sword would drain the little beggar's blood to death.

Dustbin, flying scattered scattered blood foam, condensed into red ice particles. The little beggar's convulsions had stopped, his eyes were white, his mouth foaming. His body was covered with frost.

But his left hand, but always tightly holding the baby, did not release...

...

............

...............

The movement of the chain stopped. They were still wrapped around the little beggar's arms, and the sharp blade went into his bones and joined the little beggar. The scabbard of the sword faded away, revealing a long black painted sword. Then, the small beggar blood gathered in the cave slowly solidified, the middle of the blood hole, pull out a thin line. Then...

The thin line parted, and an eye appeared above the hilt.

"Did you wake me up? Human."

The little beggar's body shuddered as a half-empty voice burst into his brain like a tonic. Instantly his eyes opened and he looked down at the chains on his right hand, the sword in his palm, the eye.

Blood into the eyes of evil and terrible light, was this eye stared at, the little beggar for a time even can not think! The red liquid dripped from the chain, but it was not frozen like the blood around it. See his wrist again, blood, also already did not flow.

The little beggar let go and tried to throw the sword away. But no matter how he tried to throw it, his fingers were still holding the hilt tightly. As if from the right arm forward, no longer belong to their own control.

In fear and alarm, the little beggar suddenly looked back and saw the swaddling clothes in his arms. He found his left hand cold, bloodless, and even less tactile. But the baby girl in the swaddling clothes was still breathing softly...

"..............."

Little beggar's eyes, become a little calm. Once more he returned to the calm of the rat in the gutter, eager to survive, and looked warily at the sword in his hand, that eye.

"I didn't expect it would be a human this time, or a child?"

The eyes seem to be feeling something, it stared at the little beggar, eyes keep rolling. Just after it and the little beggar's eyes looked at each other for a long time, a cruel laugh, cold little beggar's mind sounded.

"Well, it's funny. And sure enough, I felt right. It doesn't matter if you're still a kid. You'll grow up."

There is no hostility in the tone, and in this way, you should be relieved.

I'm afraid the average person would do that. But the little beggar couldn't. In his ten years of survival, he had seen too much of the beast. If someone smiles at you, it means they are going to stab you. If someone is nice to you, it means they are going to use you to do something dangerous.

No hostility in your tone? If that's the case, it's already a dead body in an alley.

The little beggar was still on guard, not only on guard, but trying to regain control of his right hand. He settled down, bit by bit, and stretched his senses to the controlled right arm.

"Ah, man, you are very good indeed. Alert mind, control desire, strong desire to survive, no matter at any time can maintain extreme calm. Is that how you want control? In that case, I'll give it to you."

Suddenly, the beggar's right arm obeyed. The first thing he did was to throw away his sword, then lift the dustbin lid and jump out...

But he forgot. He forgot that he had lost a lot of blood and that his body was covered with frost from the low body temperature. In the moment over the dustbin, his body fell hard on the snow outside.

Less painful.

Because he had lost the power to feel the pain. I was numb and unconscious.

When the little beggar fell out of the dustbin, the swaddling clothes in his arms fell off because of his power. Swaddling clothes fell on the snow, the shock woke the baby girl inside! Cold, hungry and with a high fever, the baby girl was left alone in the snow, unable to feel anyone's warmth.

"Whoa... ! Whoa... Whoa..."

The feeble sobs were almost gone! The little beggar, who had also fallen to the ground, heard the cries coming from the side in a daze. He struggled to get up, clenched his teeth, and looked around with eyes that had begun to blur. In the dim world he caught sight of swaddling clothes in the snow, and with his right arm, which was still chained, he dragged himself along.

My hands were completely frozen. The blizzard raged without pause. The little beggar's consciousness is vague, finally, his line of sight is covered with snow, can't see anything any more...

"Whoa... ! Whoa... ! Oooo... Oooo... Goo..."

But that pair has no feeling in the hands, but holding the swaddle. The little beggar turned on his back and withstood the merciless snowstorm with his back, creating a little shelter for the baby girl.

The baby girl's cry gradually faded. She closed her eyes again and fell into a deep sleep. In addition to the redness of the fever, the little face seemed to add a little peace of mind... ?

"Man, you are dying. And now, only I can save you."

It was gray in front of me, but the voice still came into my head.

"I'll give you a chance to take my hand. Now, I am right in front of you. If you will only extend your hand, I can save you. If you don't, die here. Then I will continue to wait for the next person to wake me up."

The vision is gone. The howling sound of the snowstorm seemed to have died away. I could not smell snow in my nose, and my lips were so dry that I could not speak. I don't feel cold on my skin. I don't even know if I'm sitting or lying down. The little beggar's time had come, and now was his last chance.

Death?

No, the last thing a gutter rat can do is choose to die.

He could not die, and his longing for life prevented him from seeking it at any time. The more humble things, the more has the strongest desire to live. It takes a price to survive. But since the voice can help him live, any price can be paid. To live, to live... !

The little beggar stretched out his right hand and grabbed at the white world. He didn't know if he could catch anything, but the moment his fingers closed...

His sense of touch came back, and the snow storm brought him back to his knife-like pain.

His hearing was restored and the wind was howling in his ears.

He smelled it, the cold smell of blood mixed with the snow.

He tasted it, and his dry mouth began to salivate again.

And he, too, saw...

I saw the long black sword in my hand, and the shape of the skeleton at the hilt, and the blood-red one... Eyes.

The chain still clung to his right arm, but the control was in the hands of the little beggar. But at this point, the little beggar can not let go of the sword again. But the grip of the sword seemed to give him only the lowest level of mobility, and the cold and pain still bothered him.

"Humans, perhaps as we are now, we are not easy to talk to. I will alter it a little according to your shape."

The voice in my head fell silent, and then the black sword began to shorten. It had shrunk from a sword longer than a small beggar to the size of a dagger. But the black blade and the bloody eyes of the skeleton had not changed.

The little beggar held the dagger and felt a little relieved. He looked down again at the baby girl in his arms...

Not so well. Her fever never went away. The breathing is getting thinner.

There was no emotion in the eyes of the little beggar, for the baby girl in his arms, who had nothing to do with him, to still hold her at this moment was the greatest gift to a gutter rat. But her fever...