Light filled his eyes, his vision returned, and Wu Heng found himself in a small church.
Religious-style paintings are hung on the walls, which are colorful and give people a sense of solemnity. The light in the church is soft and shines on the ground through the wooden windows, forming a cross-shaped light and shadow. This environment makes people feel pure.
"Emile Church."
Smelling the faint fragrance that filled the church, the name of this church came to his mind.
Wu Heng looked down at his own clothes again.
Very solemn!
He wore a black robe and a golden cross on his chest, giving people a sense of sanctity.
Wu Heng walked to the prayer table, picked up the golden mirror and reflected himself.
He controlled his facial expression and moved closer to the expression that a priest should have. A gentle smile appeared on his thirty-year-old face. This smile and makeup made people feel very friendly at a glance.
"Victor Lister."
Wu Heng absorbed the remaining memories in his mind. This is the name of his body, and his identity is Hemington Town, the priest of this church.
He is actually a priest!
Taking on this identity based on his current nature is the greatest blasphemy to God.
God doesn't like him, just as he doesn't like God, Wu Heng firmly believes this.
Because he is already in hell.
God may redeem a certain evil person, but He will never redeem an evil deceiver, especially an evil deceit without faith.
In the church at this time,
The last prayer had left five minutes ago. He simply sat in the first row below, picked up Bible and started reading it, but in his heart he was thinking about how to start entering the plot.
In the empty church, there was only the sound of Wu Heng flipping through the pages of a book, and it was very quiet.
Sigh--!
The half-closed door of the church was pushed open, and the smell of alcohol drifted to Wu Heng along with the breeze coming from the door. His hand that was flipping through Bible stopped and looked back.
The man was tall and thin, with tanned skin. He was wearing a striped shirt, faded jeans and tattered technician shoes. There were no traces of fine lines on his face except the corners of his eyes. He was nearly forty years old, but he looked only thirty years old.
The whole person should have had a capable and mature temperament, but it disappeared and his face was full of decadence.
His cheeks were stained with dried and transparent tears, and there were two black-purple masses under his eye sockets. His cheeks were hot from drinking, and his red nose looked like it was inflamed.
"Father, let me pray!"
He stood at the door, his voice hoarse and trembling, speaking word by word.
It can be heard from the voice that there is huge fear in his heart.
"Son, come here, the Lord will hear your prayers."
Wu Heng smiled, nodded slightly, and spoke to the person at the door in a gentle voice.
At the same time, Tower Mark sent a message:
[Contact plot characters and explore to improve your rating.]
This is the reason for his soothing expression.
The person at the door seemed to have been saved after hearing Wu Heng's words. The expression on his face relaxed slightly. He walked stiffly and staggered towards Wu Heng.
It seems that because of the strong smell of alcohol on his body, he chose to sit on the other side of the aisle closest to the aisle, about two meters away from Wu Heng.
Wu Heng felt like he was not contacting a living person, but rather meeting a ghost.
This person seemed to have died somewhere, perhaps by jumping from a building, perhaps by hanging, and his body was still swinging in the wind somewhere.
But there is indeed a living person in front of him. He is just too close to death, as if he is already dead.
"My child, what is your name?"
"You seem to be feeling a little unwell."
Wu Heng turned his head and whispered softly, his voice gentle with a hint of concern, just like a real father.
"My name is Ben Hans com." The drunk man said his name.
"Don't be nervous, Ben."
"Now is your time, whether it is repentance or prayer, the statue of Jesus is here, and I am here too."
Wu Heng's eyes slightly glanced at the wooden statue above the church platform, with hands spread out and nailed to the cross.
The person in front of me is the little fat man with great talent for construction in the first part. In the second part, he has become a famous architect, created his own wealth, and was hailed as "the most promising new generation architect in the United States" by Time magazine.
Ben followed Wu Heng's eyes and looked at the statue, which seemed to give him a little confidence. He lowered his head slightly, stared at the black-painted table, seemed to be observing the lines on it, and whispered:
"I'm a big fat pig!"
He paused for a moment, seeming to organize his words. After about 5 seconds, he continued:
"I was very fat when I was a child. I never played baseball or basketball. I was always the first to be caught playing hide-and-seek. Even I couldn't bear it. Back home, there were a few guys who often gave me trouble."
"One of them is named Reginald Huggins, but we all call him Belch, the other is named Victor Chris, and there are others."
"But the worst one is a guy named Henry. Bowers. He is worse than everyone else combined. If there is a born villain in the world, it is definitely Henry. He is not the only one who bullies me, but I am too fat and can't run as fast as others."
Wu Heng knows who the Henry he is talking about is. He is a character who was bullied by his violent father at home and then bullied others outside. He was given a dagger by Pennywise Pennywise to induce him to kill. The first one was to stab his own father to death.
"My child, the matter is over!"
Ben didn't say anything after hearing this, he just unbuttoned his own buttons and pulled open his shirt.
There is a funny, twisted scar on his abdomen, above his navel. It is a wrinkled, white, and old scar that bears the traces of time.
The scar looks like an English letter, a twisted "H".
"The wound has healed, but the scar has not disappeared. Is this what they did?"
Wu Heng already knew in his heart, but he still asked deliberately.
"It was Henry. Powers who did it. It feels like it happened a lifetime ago. Fortunately, he only had one letter tattooed and didn't let me carry his full name around."
Ben took out a piece of lemon wrapped in plastic wrap from his pocket, raised his head and dripped lemon juice into his nostrils like nasal medicine, then his body trembled violently and shuddered.
"My child, you seem to be scared, but the wound has healed, and that bad boy should have received his retribution!"
Wu Heng looked at Ben's operation. He had seen people sucking on various things, but this was the first time he had seen people sucking on lemon juice.
"Yes, Father, he died. He died not long after he carved the words on my stomach."
"But I don't care about him at all, and I don't care about this scar either."
Ben wiped the snot that flowed out, mixed with lemon scent, and his eyes filled with tears, full of bloodshot eyes but with absolute sobriety.
"Father, please tell me, are there ghosts in this world?"
Ben held the lemon tightly in his hand, as if he was preparing to put a few more drops into his nose. Due to excessive force, a layer of juice was squeezed out of the surface of the lemon, flowing on his hand, making the seams between his fingers sticky.
"This question."
Wu Heng pondered for a moment, turned up the Bible in front of him, and said softly:
"Yes!"
This answer made Ben's body feel like an electric shock. The bloodshot eyes in his eyes turned even redder. He stared at the priest in front of him pleadingly, as if he wanted Wu Heng to tell him that he was lying to him.