Chapter 272: Layers of Fear (Part 1)

The night was already very deep, and Bruce lying on the bed slept deeper and deeper, but even in his sleep, his brows were still tightly furrowed.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened a small crack, light poured out, and the slight sound of the door hinge was a bit annoying. Bruce's brows furrowed deeper, his arm moved, and then he turned over.

A layer of shadow-like darkness covered his face. Bruce seemed to notice something. The moment he opened his eyes, a bolt of lightning streaked across the window, and a terrible clown holding a dagger stood before his bed.

The moment the dagger fell, Bruce sat up from the bed. He held his breath tightly, as if his throat had been strangled. After a long time, he exhaled a breath with trembling shoulders. He looked at the empty room, confirming that this was just a nightmare.

The cold sweat on his forehead and back hadn't dissipated yet. Bruce pursed his lips, wiped his face, and sat up from the bed.

He saw that the window of his room had opened a small crack, and the wind outside the window blew in, making the lampshade of the desk lamp shake a bit. The shadows in the room flickered. Bruce thought, maybe this is the reason he had a nightmare, so he walked over and closed the window.

After there was no more wind in the room, all the light and shadow quieted down. Bruce walked toward the washroom with somewhat slow movements, wanting to find a towel to wipe the sweat off his face.

After entering the washroom, he rested his hands on the sink and looked quietly at himself in the mirror, but this time he didn't have any hallucinations, just found that his face was a bit pale, and the wound on his shoulder had split open, starting to ooze blood.

He gently touched his shoulder with his other hand. The pain wasn't too intense but very long-lasting, possibly because he used too much force when sitting up just now, causing it to tear.

Bruce turned on the faucet somewhat helplessly, bent down, and wanted to wash his face.

Just as he lowered his head, closed his eyes, and cupped clear water, he didn't notice that the washroom door slowly opened.

And when he raised his head again, looked up, and looked at the mirror, a terrible dark shadow stood behind him. Appearing in the mirror at the same time as Bruce was a crazy clown laughing loudly, who raised the dagger and swung it down fiercely.

"Ugh!!"

Bruce let out a painful moan and sat up from the bed. He took deep breaths, looking at the scene around him in confusion. He was still lying on the bed, the room was still empty, and there was nothing.

The window was closed tightly, no wind was blowing in, the lampshade wasn't shaking, the light and shadow hadn't changed, and more importantly, there was no crazy clown.

He sat stiffly on the bed, accompanied by his breathing, a trembling sound came from his throat. When he wanted to get out of bed again, he hesitated at the bedside before standing up, then reached out to touch the edge of the desk beside him.

The sharpness there was transmitted to his brain through his fingertips, giving him a trace of security. This time, Bruce didn't go to the washroom, but walked to the door of his room and twisted the doorknob. The moment he opened the door, a terrible scene happened.

Outside the door was not the corridor of Wayne Manor, but a black hole with howling winds. Bruce was almost sucked in instantly, and then, after the nauseating weightlessness and falling sensation, he sat up from the bed again.

Bruce closed his eyes hard, completely unable to determine whether this was a dream.

Bruce began to think, if this time was also a dream, what could he do to wake up?

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, and then began to examine the room. This bedroom was no different from what he remembered. Everything was where it should be, and the light he hadn't turned off before sleeping made all the items covered in a thin halo of light.

What on earth caused these serial nightmares of his?

Bruce stood up again, walked to the center of the room, paused for only a moment, and then walked toward the washroom again, turned on the faucet, lowered his head, cupped water, washed his face, stood straight, and sure enough, a crazy laughing clown raised a dagger at him, and then, he was scared awake from the dream again. ===== CHAPTER 273 =====