pertwk Chapter 152 A gathering of monsters
Chapter 152 A gathering of monsters
Tom didn't dodge, he just watched silently as the dead hands approached him, and then when they came into contact with the skin of his wrists, they burst into flames, and the suddenly ignited golden-red flames danced aggressively, Licking Frank's old face that never looked back.
Although the strange flames burned the inferi to a sizzling sound, and Tom could feel the amazing heat radiated by the flames, it did not burn the corpse into coke, and it did not cause any damage to Tom - not even the corners of his clothes. Didn't even burn.
Then the eyes closed at last—Frank fell back, and the dead man was finally at rest.
Tom stretched his neck and looked at the old man's peaceful face. After confirming that he would not get up again, he asked curiously: "That's it?"
Anima: "..."
Her smile couldn't help but become a little stiff.
"You destroyed my property, my little boy," she said.
"I'm afraid Mr. Frank on the ground and I have different opinions on this." Tom said.
"Rejected." Anima kicked away the corpse on the ground and walked up to him. "Objections without strength are meaningless."
As she spoke, she stretched out her hand and opened Tom's clothes - her black nails were very sharp and sharp, and she easily cut open Tom's clothes. Then, with another hook, she saw that the young man's still somewhat thin chest had a lot of hair on it. A huge tattoo extending from his chest to his back - a phoenix fluttering about to take flight.
"Fox?" Tom blurted.
"It seems so." Anima's pointed nails slid on the phoenix's tail feathers, as if she was eager to pull one out and have a look - the black eyes of the phoenix tattoo moved, and golden-red flames suddenly appeared. He came out and burned the anima's unruly fingers.
Anima quickly retracted her hand and looked at the phoenix tattoo again. There was something like a smile in those black eyes.
"No touching? Ha." Anima then showed an expression that was half-smiling.
She simply took two steps back, stood with her arms folded, and said calmly to Tom: "It seems you have to crawl over by yourself."
Phoenix's dark eyes remained motionless, and after a while, he opened them again as if feeling guilty, trying to see Tom's expression, but unable to see it, he pretended to be dead seriously.
If it weren't for his physical inconvenience, Tom would almost hold his forehead and sigh loudly. The black mist spreading around him seemed to sense his mood and sighed for him, bringing up a gust of wind and blowing the old dust in the room all over him.
"..." You raise all those bad things by yourself. Tom advised himself in his mind, and then gritted his teeth and held on to the bedpost to get up - he couldn't really climb over.
Anima looked on with interest.
Use your brain...use your brain... Tom struggled hard and endured the new pain in his body caused by the movement, while thinking of a solution quickly.
His wand was either taken away or destroyed. Casting spells without a wand requires too much finesse. However, his magic power is not easy to control now, and the effect of casting spells will only become rougher; the Muggle method is not It's too feasible. He can't find a scooter right now. At least his mutant magic power will definitely not be able to change now. It would be great if there is a teleportation array...
Um?and many more?
He stopped and looked thoughtfully at the black fog in the room, watching the spreading black fog fluctuate nervously. .seven
The fluctuations are great! Tom thought happily.
So the Dark Lord, who was sitting in the living room warming himself by the fire, looked at Tom lying on his back with strange eyes, being lifted up by a black mist, and being transported by the fluctuations of the mist like goods on a conveyor belt.
"Good boy." His voice was extremely high-pitched and as cold as the cold wind. The voice seemed to escape from the cracks in the land of death. But his tone was very calm, even approving.
With a straight face, Tom directed the black mist to put him down on an empty sofa - several thick black mist put him down "all around", but due to the inconsistent "let go" time, Tom was troubled. It hit the sofa in a twisted posture.
"..." Tom patiently adjusted himself and did not criticize the black mist people who were aggrieved and hid behind the back of the sofa and "peeped" at him with a little nod. The black mist seemed to be very afraid of the Dark Lord. It rarely narrowed its spread, but became darker and thicker. Seeing that Tom was not angry, he turned over from the back of the sofa and submerged Tom in the black mist.
The transmission process along the way was not as smooth as he imagined. The husky-like black mist often accidentally reversed the wave direction, or was unable to maintain a relatively consistent wave speed, or simply rolled up, leaving them lying in the dark. Tom in the fog thought for a few moments that he had fallen into a drum washing machine.
In short, his whole body ached now, and he didn't really want to speak, fearing that the dirty words would slip out as soon as he opened his mouth.
Tom and Anima were not the only ones in the living room. As soon as Anima came in, she turned into a giant crow with red eyes, fluttered her wings and flew to the window sill to preen her feathers.
The Dark Lord who spoke just now could not see his figure. He could only notice that the voice came from an old and heavy armchair in front of the fireplace. The chair was facing the fireplace, completely blocking the speaker. The snake that had appeared before was sitting on the tattered carpet in front of the fireplace.
Tom didn't particularly want to see what the Dark Lord looked like now. Think about it, when he first appeared, he was stuck to the back of Professor Quirrell's head. Later, he turned into a monster made of forest white mist. The diary that appeared in the second year can lengthen its limbs at will. The evil boy; the third year was even better, it simply changed into a female version... He didn't want to know what new skin the Dark Lord had changed.
But things didn't go his way.
The short bald man in a floor-length black cloak who stood timidly next to the armchair also reluctantly heard the Dark Lord's command: "Wormtail, come here and turn my chair around."
The servant named Wormtail whimpered, and every feature such as the pointed nose under the gray hair and the watery eyes showed strong resistance.
This seemed to particularly displease Voldemort.
"Did you hear that, Wormtail!" he scolded coldly. The snake on the carpet raised its head slightly and stared at the servant.
So the little wizard stepped forward with a frown on his face and slowly turned the armchair.
There was a slimy thing about the size of a baby curled up on the chair, and it seemed like some living creature had been skinned off, revealing dark red texture and tender flesh. The exposed lines were very strange, like the scales of a snake. ; Its limbs are thin, soft, and long, like several listless dead snakes connected to the trunk. That's a monster that only appears in nightmares.
"We meet again, child." The monster spoke in a cold voice.
Tom looked at this thing, and an idea suddenly came to his mind. So he spoke out with a smile: "Good evening, sir. It's interesting to say that when we last met, you were a monster condensed in the fog, and I was a child; now we meet again," he He didn't worry about whether such words would offend the Dark Lord. He gestured to the black mist spreading around him. The young man's face appeared and disappeared in the mist covered like a black gauze, "But it seemed to be the other way around. .”
"What kind of fate is this," he smiled coldly, and looked at the crow on the window sill and the plain black diary on the small coffee table, "that we monsters can gather here."