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墨書 Inktalez
The moment the bullet was fired, it felt as if the entire world had fallen into a brief stillness, time seemingly frozen. Jonas felt his breath stop as his gaze locked onto the spinning bullet hurtling toward the monster. The tip of the bullet glimmered with a cold light, striking the creature squarely in the head.
At the instant the bullet pierced its skull, the strange black monster staggered backward as if struck by some invisible force. Its movements suddenly became sluggish, as if the bullet had not only hit its flesh but also weakened its internal control. The tentacles that had been coiling around Mocus instantly lost their strength, falling away like a pile of severed snakes, sliding helplessly off his body.
The moment Mocus felt the tentacles loosen, he reacted immediately. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his body, he lunged forward, breaking free from the monster's grasp. It was as if he had regained his freedom; filled with terror and panic, he quickly ran toward Jonas, nearly stumbling to the ground. Yet he ultimately escaped that deadly danger and reached Jonas's side.
Jonas watched Mocus approach, feeling a slight sense of relief within him, but he knew it was far from enough. Just as he turned around, Raymond immediately sensed that the time had come; his combat instincts surged to life. His gaze sharpened without a hint of hesitation as he shouted, "Fire suppression! Now!"
His voice echoed through the cabin, filled with determination and urgency. Raymond swiftly raised his rifle, steadying himself and focusing on the still-reeling monster, decisively pulling the trigger in rapid succession. The rifle's muzzle flashed in the darkness as bullets rained down upon the creature.
The mercenaries nearby quickly reacted as well, forming a barrage of fire with their weapons all aimed at the black monster. Under Raymond's command, gunfire erupted like thunder, bullets ruthlessly striking the creature's body with devastating force.
The monster trembled under the continuous impacts of bullets, as if being hammered by countless mallets. Its writhing black tentacles began to thrash chaotically in an attempt to resist this fierce assault but appeared powerless and futile. Its body was riddled with holes from the bullets, blood mixing with dark liquid splattering everywhere.
Inside the cabin, a deadly barrage of fire quickly formed a storm of bullets that thoroughly suppressed the monster. Raymond calmly and methodically adjusted his shooting angle to ensure every shot hit its target. His finger steadily pulled the trigger, determination flickering in his eyes. The other mercenaries similarly launched a fierce attack on the creature with astonishing coordination and speed; their net of fire tightened further, leaving no chance for the monster to breathe.
The monster's roars gradually weakened as its body began to collapse, ultimately crashing to the ground amidst a hail of gunfire.
Jonas stared blankly at the scene before him, as if separated from reality. The fire continued to focus; bullets relentlessly poured onto the already fallen creature, each shot carrying destructive power as if aiming to erase this terrifying existence from the world entirely. Yet behind this blaze and smoke, Jonas's thoughts were pulled back to that battlefield filled with death and despair.
He seemed to return to those countless sleepless nights spent in enemy trenches surrounded by smoke and decay, ears filled with gunfire and screams. Each step was taken in a mixture of blood and mud; every breath carried the weight of life and death. Jonas remembered how he and his comrades swept away remaining enemy soldiers time and again, as if engaged in some endless expulsion and cleansing where flames never extinguished from their guns. Those who fell before them had long lost their faces and identities, becoming mere blurred shadows—no longer human but rather creatures emerging from darkness that needed to be utterly erased.
Jonas understood that this was not just about war's brutality; it felt like a judgment on their very existence. He and his comrades had become executors of this judgment, with flames at their gun muzzles serving as final verdicts—offering no mercy or forgiveness. With each pull of the trigger, it felt as though his soul was being gradually drained; that endless slaughter left him numb while parts of his inner self grew cold and hollow.
The scene before him evoked an inexplicable sense of familiarity. The barrage of gunfire ruthlessly tore through the monster's body, the black, writhing forms shattered by bullets, splattering crimson and dark liquid everywhere. It felt as if the battles of the past had never truly ended; they had merely taken on a more bizarre and brutal form. The monster before him was a continuation of the vague shadows from his memories, no matter where they came from, they would ultimately be judged and eradicated in this storm of firepower.
Jonas felt a heaviness in his chest; he knew he could not escape these memories nor erase the experiences of the past. Every moment on the battlefield was deeply etched into his soul, becoming a nightmare he could not shake off. Even though the monster lay defeated before him, the battle within him continued, as those dark creatures from his memories seemed forever impossible to truly exorcise.
A sharp scream suddenly pierced through the continuous gunfire, interrupting the relentless barrage. The voice was filled with anger and despair, echoing throughout the compartment: "Stop! Everyone stop! He’s already dead! Can’t you see that?"
Isabella's voice resonated in the cabin, her body trembling with intense rage. Flames flickered in her eyes as if she had been ignited by emotions long suppressed. She looked at the corpse being riddled with bullets, her heart swelling with uncontrollable anger and sorrow, as if the monster's death revealed a truth she could not bear.
Raymond's finger slipped off the trigger, his gaze dropping slightly. He ejected the magazine, and silence fell abruptly over the smoke-filled and bloody space. His movements were somewhat stiff, as if even he felt a twinge of discomfort and contradiction about his recent actions. Raymond remained silent, not uttering a word, merely lowering his head to change magazines while avoiding Isabella's gaze. He understood that her anger stemmed from helplessness and despair over this unending battle, yet he could offer no explanation.
Isabella took a deep breath to suppress her inner turmoil and stepped closer to the monster's corpse. Her footsteps were heavy yet resolute, her eyes revealing an indescribable mix of sadness and curiosity. As she approached, the body of the monster gradually came into view for everyone.
The dark forms that once writhed beneath its skin were no longer active; it seemed they had vanished completely with the loss of life. The monster's body had turned pale and rigid, riddled with countless bullet holes, resembling a puppet thoroughly shattered by gunfire. There were no signs of life beneath its skin; those once twisted and writhing tentacles had dissipated, replaced by a colorless corpse from which not a single drop of blood dripped from any of the bullet wounds.
Standing beside the corpse, Isabella gazed heavily at the sight before her. Her heart was filled with complex emotions—fear of this unknown creature mingled with sorrow for the merciless slaughter that had just occurred. She reached out with trembling fingers to touch the body but ultimately halted in mid-air, unable to move forward.
The others in the compartment remained silent, each person enveloped by an oppressive atmosphere. They had witnessed this incomprehensible battle, watching as the monster transformed from a threatening presence into a cold corpse, their hearts filled with unresolved confusion and unease. Isabella's scream and Raymond's silence made them acutely aware of the deep-seated fear and helplessness hidden behind this conflict.
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