Chapter 358： Wormtail

Chapter 358 Wormtail

"I always thought he was weird." After drinking several glasses of wine, the chef finally began to reveal some details, she told the eager villagers, and said.

"He is weird and cold, and never pays attention to people. I think even if you want to invite him to drink, he will not pay attention to you. He never deals with people."

"He is not very gregarious." A villager at the bar said, "Frank fought in wars. He suffered a lot in the war. He was destroyed by the war. He couldn't integrate into a peaceful life. We can't just because of this. , Just doubt him."

"Who else can anyone besides him?" The cook said gruffly, "Only he has the key to the back door, and the spare key has been in his cabin. Yesterday, the doors and windows were all locked well. No one broke in. Only Frank, only he could sneak into the house while we were sleeping."

The villagers exchanged eyes with each other, and immediately felt that this was a very important question.

"I think he is very suspicious, he looks very annoying, he is very uncomfortable." A man at the bar mumbled.

"I guess it was the war that made him crazy." The bar owner said, "In a place where there is so much gunfire, everyone will go crazy. Frank has never been able to integrate into his current life."

"He has a bad temper, no one dares to offend him." A woman said excitedly, "No one knows what he can do."

One question after another, blurted out from the mouths of the villagers, Frank is indeed a weird, a terrible weird, because he is completely out of gregariousness.

.........

The next day, in Little Hangleton, Frank was repeatedly interrogated by the police at the police station.

Frank repeated it over and over again, he was innocent, he didn't know what happened.

The day the Riddle family died of three. The only stranger he saw there was a teenage boy who was not like the people here. He was pale with black hair and looked a little weird.

But no one in the village had seen the boy, and the police thought it was a lie made up by Frank.

Just when everyone thought Frank was the murderer, the bizarre autopsy report of the Riddle family made the case confusing.

No one has seen such a weird report. The doctors have confirmed it and checked it.

The final conclusion is that the Riddle family has no wounds, marks, or illnesses. They were very natural, very healthy, and died suddenly. The doctors noticed that everyone in the Riddle family had a frightened expression, and they looked more like they were scared to death.

The police did not like this conclusion. Three healthy people were scared to death at the same time. This is not a satisfactory conclusion. But there is no evidence to prove that this was a murder, and the police were unwilling to wrong other people for an unpopular family.

So Frank was released again.

After this, the Riddles were buried in the church cemetery in Little Hangleton.

Surprisingly, Frank Bryce returned to the cabin at Riddle Manor.

Although some villagers still believe that Frank killed the Riddles, Frank ignored these rumors. He stayed and continued to take care of Riddle's garden, or in other words, he had nowhere to go, he could only stay here.

Frank has no family, he only has this familiar place.

Frank continued to take care of Riddle's garden, but Riddle's manor and house were gradually abandoned.

His new owner never lived here. He used this manor as a tax avoidance tool. He did not repair it, but left it to waste. Frank was also stayed, and the new owner continued to hire him as a sign that the manor was still running.

Fifty years have passed. Frank is 77 years old. He is very deaf and his legs are stiffer.

He has no relatives, nowhere to go, he has no hobbies. He just takes care of the garden and keeps the lawn tidy every day.

It takes Frank a lot of time. He not only has to face the overgrown weeds, but also the children who are even more annoying than weeds.

The children in the village always like to throw rocks here. Frank is the weird man in the village and the monster that everyone hates. The children bet each other, get angry with each other, and bully each other.

They sneak in, trample on the lawn, trample on flowers, and smash windows. Yelling at the murderer, the murderer, all things gave Frank a headache.

.........

One night in August, Frank woke up from the night. He heard that the house above was abnormal. He thought it was the children who came up with terrible tricks to torture him.

He was awakened by the pain of that bad leg. The leg that was broken on the battlefield had already tortured him. For many years, he would continue to torture her until he died.

The war ruined everything about him, leaving him with a terrible, terrible, bad leg, and a lifetime of torture.

He got up from the bed and limped to the kitchen. He needed to refill his hot water bottle to warm up his stiff knee.

At this moment, he looked upstairs and saw the window of Riddle's house shimmering.

"It's those **** little kids again, they still made a fire, maybe they want to burn the house." Frank scolded angrily.

He quickly took off the kettle and limped upstairs. He got dressed, went back to the kitchen, and took a rusty key from the door in the opening.

He took the cane leaning against the wall as a weapon, and walked quietly into the night.

The door on Riddle's House. There is no sign of being knocked open, and the windows are intact.

Frank dragged his bad leg around to the back of the house, and he stopped in front of a door full of creepers. He took out the key and unscrewed the door silently.

No one has been in the kitchen like a dark crypt for many years. Frank followed the memory and fumbled, surrounded by rot and dust.

He lifted his spirits and carefully caught the sound and footsteps above his head. He walked through the corridor and climbed the stairs lightly. The steps were covered with thick dust, concealing his footprints and voice.

In the hallway, Frank looked for light and found the intruder. At the end of the corridor, a door opened with a slit.

A faint light escaped from the crack in the door, sprinkling a faint halo on the ground.

Frank approached cautiously, clutching a cane tightly in his hand, and a few steps from the doorway, he saw the scene in the crack of the door.

The fire leaped in the fireplace, which surprised him a bit. He stopped and raised his ears, wanting to hear the movement in the room.

At this time a man's voice came from the room.

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