Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

Under the huge full moon, on the sandy ground of the dungeon, another gray-haired boy also fell sideways on the sandy ground, unable to speak. He could hear someone screaming in a high-pitched voice in the distance.

"Hoffa!!"

It was the desperate voice of the nun.

He lifted his neck hard, looking at the sharp blade that came out of his chest, and then at the gap in Mans's chest that was still bleeding. He stood like an okay person, but he could feel the rapid passing of life.

Hoffa's head was a little dazed. He didn't expect that a Muggle with a stab in his chest could stand upright on himself, poking a knife in his chest. How did he do it? Even vampires don't have such tenacious vitality.

"How do you...?" Hoffa had difficulty breathing.

"Want to know?"

Mans pointed to his chest and smiled: "I won't tell you."

He drew out the sharp blade and threw the steel thorn away with a cry. The **** steel thorn rolled far away on the sand. Then he unambiguously dragged Chloe, who was kneeling and crying, twisted her neck and forced her to look at Hoffa.

"Look at him and admire the state of your friend when he died. If you still want to save the group of children, you'd better meet my expectations as soon as possible."

Hoffa wanted to say something, he didn't know what he wanted to say, maybe it was a curse asshole, maybe it was the last to comfort the nun, but he found that he couldn't do anything.

"You let me go, let me go...!"

The nun was dragged by Mans, drifting away like a torn sack.

Life was fading fast, and his strength was no longer enough to support him to do anything. He slipped to the ground from the corner of the wall, clutching his chest, and the darkness gradually swallowed his pupils.

The last picture he saw was Mans dragging the nun with the group of children, walking farther and farther, and finally disappeared from his vision.

Are you going to die?

He didn't see any chance. This was the final injury he had ever suffered, and it was also the closest he was to death. He has completely stepped into the ghost gate. In the dark, he even saw the **** of death smiling at himself.

At this moment, all sorts of helplessness came to my heart.

If you fail, you are almost, just a little bit. He will be able to send the nun to London, maybe Fattier will use her ability to change history, maybe he will see Aglaia in his lifetime.

Aglaia... thinking of her, a violent pain burned in Hoffa's body, and he couldn't help but start groaning. It was an unstoppable survival that broke out deep in my heart.

To die? No, he must not die.

His life is burdened by her expectations, no matter what, he can't die.

But his heart had been pierced, and even in the activated state, he could not repair such a fatal wound. He kept turning magic power into life, but life flowed out desperately along the wound.

He lay on the ground, racking his brains to think about the way to immortality. But no matter what he thought, it seemed unrealistic. There was not even a living person around him.

The huge anxiety drowned him like sea water, his soul was like a candle in the wind, and he was completely dark. Only his numb lips could taste the blood flowing from his heart.

Is there still a chance?

Feel the warmth on the lips.

That is the temperature of the blood.

Under the stimulation of this taste, a bold and crazy idea emerged spontaneously. There is one last chance.

He tried his best to transform all the magic power into life, barely opened his eyes, supported himself, lingering, dragging himself bit by bit, crawling towards the distant pool of blood.

In the end, he stopped at the edge of the marble pool. At this moment, he could not breathe, only a few steps away from death.

The blood dripped from his mouth into the blood pool, and he was groggy, unable to do anything.

The moonlight broke through the dark clouds again and shone from the dome. The boiling pool of blood had subsided. However, after it tasted Hoffa's blood, it boiled again, like an extremely excited organic life.

Afterwards, countless **** hands made of blood stretched out from the blood pool, grabbed Hoffa's body, and pulled him down from the heart of the pool.

With a soft thud. Without the slightest spray, the blood pool returned to calm and no longer boiled.

The violent pain disappeared, and the desperate fight was rewarded. A certain magical power wrapped him and made him feel the ultimate warmth. It was a feeling he had never experienced before, as if he had returned to the mother's womb.

Under the action of a certain force, the broken heart regrouped little by little, returned, and became a whole, something new and unknown.

At this moment, he can breathe in the blood, and even see everything outside through the blood. The bright moon, and the phantom flying in the moonlight.

Some broken pictures and whispers wrapped him, and he heard something whispering in his ears, "After a dream, wake up the sleeping blood queen, eight beasts, born in eight restless nights, the holy nail penetrates the sinner The flesh and blood, a prayer, dedicated to the summoned hero..."

Whispers sounded from his ears, and he raised his head from the sea of ​​blood, with countless **** hands supporting him. Let him get closer and closer to the moon in the sky, he can see the craters all over the planet, and a woman with a veil but no facial features. She is covered with a hazy light, and her fingers are like silk. Flying among the moon.

"Light was born in darkness, but turned away from darkness, cursed the darkness, liberated from the long night, and fell asleep in the short day..."

The whispering never stopped, it was not like a person talking again, but the noisy whispers of countless people, those satin-like fingers wrapped Hoffa little by little, bound him tightly, and the huge shadow held him up. He started and flew towards the woman's head a little bit.

The distance is getting closer and closer.

Then, he saw that the woman's head without facial features cracked a thin slit, like a zipper, behind that crack was the bright Milky Way, which made people yearn for.

He marveled at the beauty and the warmth of the envelope. He was fascinated for a while, letting his flying fingers wrap himself, sending himself into the void in the huge mouth.

"If I were you, I would probably not surrender so easily, and it would be too cheap." Suddenly, another voice said in his ear. This voice is different from those whispering, it is clear, smooth, and without any emotions.

At the reminder of the voice, Hoffa woke up.

The hazy woman in the moon disappeared, and the beautiful starlight disappeared.

He only saw his muscles swelling crazily in the blood pool, and countless thorns grew from every corner of his body. There were thin and hideous human faces growing on the thorns. They were wailing, painful, and tearing.

"Damn it!"

He was completely awakened, that inexplicable blood poured into his body along his wound, his bone marrow seemed to be burned, his blood vessels were poured with acid, and what’s more terrifying was that there was an unknown huge spirit in the blood pool. Power, this weird and unpredictable mental power is stronger than he has seen before, but if it is contaminated, he is in danger of being assimilated.

He leaned his head back and slammed it on the marble floor, trying to throw the whispers out of his ears. But it didn't work, his self-awareness was quickly disappearing, and soon it would become something else.

So he quickly climbed the stone wall and tried to climb outwards. There was a wave of waves on the calm pool of blood, and Hoffa stretched out his hand. But in less than a second, he was pulled back into the blood pool by the unmatched force, and the blood pool returned to calm again.

This time, however, the brief calm lasted less than ten breaths.

Suddenly, a pool of blood boiled.

A huge four-winged bird hovered and roared out of the blood pool. It was covered with pitch-like gelatinous blood. Before it flew ten meters high, it was pulled back into the blood pool heavily and crashed to the ground. Among them, a large amount of blood was splashed.

"In the world, life and death are unpredictable, even with the mighty and powerful wings, it is impossible to move an inch..." Numerous voices were noisy in his ears, making him upset.

The Thunderbird roared and rushed out of the blood pool again. His sharp claws clung to the edge of the blood pool tightly. Countless blood dancing behind him is bound to pull him back to the sea of ​​blood.

In the deep castle, under the quiet and white moonlight.

There was a very weird scene, the blood in the blood pool condensed into a huge arm, like a chicken, it grabbed the Thunderbird in its hand, smashed it, and was about to surrender him.

"After staggering me, I will take what you want!"

The voice grew louder and louder, and they crazily swallowed Hoffa's body and mind. The more he struggled, the stronger the superhuman power. The destruction of the hall is getting worse. The exquisite ceiling was turned into fragments, rumbling down, and the delicious food on the dining table was smashed into a pile of mud.

His heart was beating violently, almost jumping out of his chest, and every pulse beat seemed to be pressed into a new flame through his body. He twitched helplessly, his head like a sphere full of extreme pain, on the edge of a burst. Hoarse calls reverberated throughout the castle.

The two forces are in a stalemate. Hoffa knows that he will not hold on for too long. As long as he runs out of power, he will immediately become one of the countless whispering voices. Outside the blood pool, he faces the threat of physical death, while inside the blood pool, he faces the crisis of being swallowed up by the spirit. This **** world, who can help me?

He was very anxious.

It seemed that he had heard his prayer. At this moment, another voice rang in his ears, "If you can survive a nightmare, would you still jump into the blood pool?" The unknown voice asked again: " If you could only choose one of nightmares and bloodsucking at night, what would you choose?"

"I choose nothing..."

"You are going to die." Another voice said calmly: "Bach, no one can help you. There are only two options, either to **** someone's blood every night, or have a nightmare every night."

"If you must, then I would rather have a nightmare."

The **** hand stopped moving, and after three breaths of calm, it collapsed suddenly, the entangled blood receded from his body, disappeared in the blood pool, turned into countless red light spots, dissipated and evaporated in the air.

With a plop, Thunderbird fell into the dry blood pool, shrinking a little bit, and turned into a gray-haired boy with no strands.

Slowly, extremely slowly, the pain subsided a little bit, and it felt like a thousand years had passed. He twitched feebly, inhaling desperately through his stinging throat, as if another thousand years had passed before he could barely stand up. The whole body's muscles seemed to have turned into water, so I had to use my hands and feet together, and finally stood up tremblingly, groping forward staggeringly.

Finally, he crawled out of the blood pool. After not taking a few steps, he stepped on a corpse and fell to the ground with a plop. It was pitch black in front of him. After a long time, the pitch black became the lines on the floor, and his pupils gradually focused.

Everything in front of his eyes became unusually bright, but there was not much color. He could clearly see the expression on the face of the corpse lying on the ground. He could see every particle of dust floating in the air, and even the gothic spire in the distance. Above, the pattern of the gargoyle sculpture.

At this moment, the night became as clear as the day. This was a feeling he had never experienced before. He wanted his eyes to become an infrared night vision camera.

"what's happening?"

He looked at the fingerprints on his palms, what had just happened is still vivid, the phantom in the moon, the whispers in the sea of ​​blood. Everything is so clear that I have never seen it before.

Look at my chest again. The wound penetrated by Mans has healed at this moment, but it is covered with bright red scars. The scars are symmetrically distributed on the chest. Three rings are intertwined, and the interwoven part of the rings forms One after another crescent crescent. The pattern is rough and not smooth, as if it was drawn randomly by a primitive man with branches.

He had seen this pattern before. When the female vampire opened the dungeon, she drew this pattern on the ground with blood.

What does it mean? He could feel some obscure and ancient power in the pattern, but he couldn't describe it.

When I look up at the moon in the sky, it has become exactly the same as the moon I see in the daytime, that is, it is not big, and there are no monsters in it. It just hangs in the sky in a round shape, and keeps it everyday for hundreds of thousands of years Looks the same, there is no difference.

"are you OK."

At this time, someone in the ear asked him.

The voice is ethereal and does not distinguish between men and women, and it sounds very neutral. It was the voice that reminded myself just now in the blood.

"who are you?"

Hoffa suddenly sat upright, there was no living person beside him, but just now in the blood pool, it was this voice asking him some weird questions.

"I'm on your waist."

The voice reminded him.

Hoffa was startled, he picked up the glass ball, the tentacles flying in the glass ball, and the little tentacles he got in the English Channel was shining rapidly in the glass ball.