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墨書 Inktalez
Mocus's body lay in the corner like a dilapidated puppet, its chest riddled with bullet holes still faintly rising and falling, creating an eerie spectacle. With each labored breath, black blood and shredded flesh erupted from the wounds, as if something within was still writhing. The air was thick with a nauseating stench, making every breath feel suffocating.
“Damn it, why isn’t he dead yet?” Raymond gritted his teeth, his eyes blazing with fury as he aimed his gun at Mocus's head. His finger rested on the trigger, ready to fire again at any moment.
Jonas also held his gun up, but his hand trembled slightly. He felt an indescribable fear, as if this twisted thing was no longer his former companion but some malevolent spirit gradually awakening. He couldn’t believe that there was still a trace of life in this bullet-ridden shell.
“Something’s not right... this isn’t right...” Jonas muttered under his breath, scanning the surroundings warily as if something even more terrifying would leap from the shadows at any moment.
Nearby, Isabella curled up in the corner, hugging herself with cold sweat dripping from her forehead. Her back pressed against the icy stone wall, her heart raced like a drum. She tried to control her breathing, but the fear within her only intensified. She sensed that something was wrong; a deep voice in her mind whispered like a Black Worm swimming in an abyss.
“…you will see… the truth…” The voice was cold and devoid of emotion, beckoning her toward an unknown depth.
A strong sense of unease surged within Isabella as Mocus's fate seemed to replay before her eyes. The whisper grew clearer; she could feel herself being eroded by a dark force, just like Mocus. Fear made her tremble all over; her rational mind urged her to stay calm, but that sensation of writhing only grew stronger.
“No… this can’t be happening…” she chanted silently in her mind, trying to expel the voice, but the darkness clung to her thoughts like a viscous shadow.
“Isabella! Are you okay?” Jonas's voice called from afar, yet it felt muffled and distant as if separated by an invisible barrier.
She wanted to respond but found herself unable to make a sound, staring blankly at the twisted body before her—Mocus’s eyes suddenly opened, filled with an otherworldly chill that seemed to mock her helplessness silently.
“Damn it…” Raymond growled, his trembling fingers tightening around the trigger once more, ready to end this nightmare once and for all.
But just before he pulled the trigger, Isabella's fear peaked; she knew that this was only the beginning.
Raymond frantically pulled the trigger, bullets firing in rapid succession, their dull echoes reverberating through the dark cave. His eyes were filled with anger and fear; everything was too bizarre, too incomprehensible. He aimed at Mocus's face, the bullets striking with tremendous force, completely shattering his head.
With a loud "bang!" the last bullet struck, and Mocus's skull exploded like a broken watermelon, brain matter splattering everywhere. Blood and shattered bone sprayed against the stone walls as his broken body fell to the ground with a muffled thud.
However, before anyone could breathe a sigh of relief, they saw countless tiny Black Worms writhing in the brain matter pooled on the ground. These worms were about an inch long, slender and frail, yet they seemed to possess their own consciousness as they silently twisted and crawled across the floor, as if searching for new hosts.
"Damn it!" Raymond stumbled back a step, his gun trembling slightly in his panicked grip. His face turned pale in an instant, his heart racing; this was no ordinary creature—this was a nightmare straight from hell.
"Oh my God..." The mercenary beside him stared wide-eyed at the writhing black mass on the ground, nausea rising violently in his stomach. He bent over and uncontrollably vomited, the acidic contents splattering onto the ground, mixing with the brain matter and worms in a grotesque scene.
"What on earth is this...?" Jonas's voice was low and hoarse, laced with unmistakable fear. He looked at the squirming black worms on the ground, his eyes flashing with an indescribable shock and unease. Just moments ago, Mocus had been their companion; now his corpse had become a breeding ground for these monsters.
The worms glimmered faintly in the darkness like creatures from hell, gradually inching closer to them. Raymond trembled as he raised his gun again but found himself unable to approach these eerie things. Jonas quickly ordered, "Everyone back away! Don't let them touch you!"
Isabella cowered in a corner, covering her mouth in terror. The voice in her mind grew clearer by the moment, mocking her ignorance and helplessness, sharp laughter ringing in her ears. She felt her body no longer fully belonged to her; an inexplicable fear filled her heart.
At that moment, one of the mercenaries who had been attacked by Mocus collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball. His face was as pale as paper, cold sweat beading on his forehead, his eyes unfocused as if he could no longer concentrate on reality. At this moment, multiple voices echoed in his mind—four or five different tones—each filled with malice and mockery. These voices were sharp as blades, slicing through what little sanity he had left and ruthlessly stripping away his control over himself.
"You are nothing but a useless pawn."
"Your soul already belongs to us."
"Look at yourself; see how small and pathetic you are."
These voices overlapped repeatedly in his mind, buzzing like a swarm of demons whispering incessantly in his ear. He had once been a hardened killer accustomed to the violence and bloodshed of brutal warfare, having witnessed countless deaths and suffering. Yet the fear these voices instilled far surpassed anything he had ever experienced in battle.
The mercenary shook his head frantically, gripping his hair tightly as he tried to drive the evil voices out of his mind, but it was all in vain. The voices not only grew louder but seemed to multiply, as if countless hands were reaching out from the darkness, seizing his soul and dragging him mercilessly toward the abyss.
"Shut up! Shut up!" the mercenary roared in agony, his voice hoarse and frantic. His lips twitched, his eyes filled with madness and despair; he was on the brink of collapse from extreme mental torment.
In just two short minutes, it felt like an endless ordeal. His sanity had been shattered, and his mind was completely out of control. His hands trembled violently as he muttered incomprehensible words, his face twisted in terror.
"Help me... help me!" The mercenary suddenly let out a heart-wrenching scream, as if he had plunged into an indescribable madness. Tears streamed down his face, his eyes wide open, bloodshot orbs seeming ready to burst from their sockets.
Watching his breakdown, Jonas and the others were stunned. This once cold-hearted mercenary, who had faced countless life-and-death situations, was utterly shattered by this dark and evil force in just a few minutes.
"Damn it!" Raymond cursed under his breath, cold sweat beading on his forehead. This supernatural fear had surpassed their understanding. As Jonas observed the scene before him, a growing sense of crisis gripped his heart.
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