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墨書 Inktalez
The figure of James gradually darkened before the old man and woman, as if he were shrouded in an invisible layer of darkness, creating an increasingly oppressive atmosphere. The elderly couple sat on the sofa, feeling an indescribable chill creeping in from all directions, as if what emanated from James was not an ordinary presence but a suffocating sense of foreboding. That malevolent force loomed like encroaching darkness, slowly eroding the space around them; it felt as though if James moved even a little closer, they would be completely consumed by this shadow.
They sat frozen on the sofa, eyes wide as they stared at James, sensing that he seemed to grow taller and more imposing. For a brief moment, his figure appeared distorted and unclear, as if he had become their shadow, gradually surrounding and pressing down on them. The old man's hand instinctively tightened around his teacup, his fingers trembling slightly. He tried to remain calm but felt every muscle in his body tense with anxiety.
James's gaze turned deep and cold; the smile still lingered on his face, but under the dim light, it appeared particularly sinister. Just as the pressure reached its peak, James suddenly halted, taking a small step back and retracting the suffocating aura he had just exuded.
"Apologies for my rudeness..." James said softly, his tone still carrying a hint of chill. He turned towards a nearby desk, gently brushing his fingers over a dark red book resting there. The book emitted an eerie crimson glow under the light, as if some power within it was slowly awakening.
James carefully opened the book; the pages made a faint rustling sound as his gaze sharpened with focus. His fingers glided over ancient symbols, seemingly captivated by the contents within. The air in the room grew heavier, and with each turn of the page, an invisible force seemed to seep out from the book, spreading like a dark mist through the air.
The old woman suddenly shivered; she could not ignore the sinister aura radiating from that book. Although James appeared completely at ease, she felt something was off about it—like it did not belong to this world. Her voice trembled with tension as she couldn't help but ask, "James, what is that book? It looks... special."
Her question shattered the silence in the room, prompting the old man to look up at the book in James's hands with curiosity and unease. Hearing her inquiry, James lifted his head slightly, a meaningful smile playing at his lips as his gaze settled on the old woman.
"This book..." James's voice was low and carried an oddly gentle eeriness. "It is indeed special; it records things you cannot imagine—ancient secrets, the origins of the world, and knowledge beyond your comprehension." His tone resembled that of someone recounting an ancient legend while hinting at an unspeakable terror lurking beneath.
Upon hearing these words, the old woman's unease intensified; her body involuntarily trembled again as if that book was emanating an irresistible evil force.
She slowly leaned closer to her husband, her voice barely audible as her breath quickened with anxiety. "I think this place is too strange... We should leave soon." Her tone was filled with apprehension and an unmistakable fear as her eyes darted toward James's figure repeatedly. The eerie atmosphere surrounding that dark red book seemed to expand into every corner of the room, making her feel as though every inch of space was filled with invisible pressure.
James continued to peruse the book, seemingly lost in its depths; his fingers glided over its pages slowly and mysteriously. His silhouette loomed large and shadowy against the dim light, as if he were part of the darkness itself. Each sound of turning pages urged the old woman to hasten her departure from this place. A chill ran down her spine; cold sweat seeped through her collar. The longer she sat there, the stronger her fear grew—as if this place were draining her strength.
The old man heard his wife's whispered words; although his expression showed little change, he felt a wave of unease rising within him. He knew she was right—the atmosphere here was indeed unsettling, especially James's behavior—the eerie calmness and that peculiar book suggested hidden dangers lurking nearby. He did not speak immediately but nodded silently to let his wife know he agreed with her sentiment.
To avoid arousing James's suspicion, the old gentleman casually lifted his teacup and took a gentle sip of the hot black tea. His movements appeared relaxed, but every detail was executed with caution. While drinking, he used the teacup to shield his expression, secretly observing James's every action. He said little, only subtly signaling to his wife—hurry and finish your tea so we can find an excuse to leave.
The old lady understood and nodded slightly, her heart racing in response to her husband's hint. She realized that if they suddenly announced their departure, James might find it strange or be displeased. Therefore, she could only follow her husband's lead, pretending to finish her cup of tea before seeking an opportunity to escape.
She glanced at the teacup in her hands, still filled with plenty of scalding hot tea. Gritting her teeth, she carefully lifted the cup despite the steam rising from it. Each time the tea approached her lips, she felt the heat closing in, making her apprehensive, but she couldn't afford to hesitate. At that moment, all she wanted was to leave this eerie room and escape the suffocating pressure.
The tea flowed down her throat like molten lava, causing her eyes to redden slightly as tears nearly spilled over. In a flurry, she tried to drink faster but dared not rush too much for fear of raising James's suspicions. She stole glances at him now and then, terrified he might suddenly turn around and notice their odd behavior.
James remained by the desk, engrossed in flipping through a book, seemingly oblivious to the old couple's actions. His stillness was unsettling, leaving his emotions unreadable. The pages turned gently in his hands; each rustle sounded like an invisible alarm bell, quickening the old lady's heartbeat.
Seeing his wife begin to drink quickly, the old gentleman also raised his teacup and pretended to sip leisurely. His movements were slow and natural, masking his inner tension. As he drank, he silently counted the seconds, hoping James wouldn’t suddenly act out of character. Though he appeared calm on the surface, the anxiety and pressure within him grew stronger with each passing moment.
The old lady held the scalding tea with anxiety coursing through her veins; her hands trembled from nerves, causing the liquid to sway dangerously close to spilling over. She desperately wanted to finish quickly, but each time she brought the cup to her lips, the scorching steam hit her face and made her hesitate. Finally summoning her courage, she carefully took a large sip but was met with a painful burn that nearly made her spit it out.
"Cough... cough!" The old lady choked, her face turning crimson as she quickly covered her mouth, stifling a cry of pain. Her eyes watered instantly from the coughing fit that ensued; tears welled up as she fumbled to place the teacup back on the table.
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