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墨書 Inktalez
William's anger grew with each passing moment as he stared into the mirror, his reflection seemingly transforming into that of James. The familiar yet nauseating face loomed larger, radiating youthful vitality, adorned with James's signature sardonic smile. That twisted grin mocked him like a venomous snake, coldly deriding his existence.
"You will never be able to defeat me, William." James's voice echoed in his ears, a deep resonance that replayed the very threats he had once faced. Each word pierced William's pride like a dagger, leaving him engulfed in humiliation and rage.
In the mirror, James's laughter became increasingly derisive and distorted, as if deliberately provoking him, taunting him about everything he had lost. Unable to contain himself any longer, William's fury erupted like a wildfire as he slammed his fist into the mirror.
"Die!" he roared, his voice laced with uncontrollable anger.
"Crash!" The mirror shattered instantly, countless shards exploding like a rain of glass. Sharp fragments embedded themselves in his fist, blood immediately oozing between his fingers. The pain jolted him back to reality. He stared at his bleeding hand in shock, wide-eyed and overwhelmed by panic. He couldn't believe he had just done this—smashed the mirror and injured himself in the process.
His breath quickened, heart pounding like a drum as chaos reigned in his mind. He looked down at the blood dripping from his palm, droplets falling onto the white sink and seeping into its cracks. The sting in his hand served as a harsh reminder of how foolish he had been.
"Damn it!" he muttered under his breath, rushing out of the restroom in an attempt to escape this madness. His hand continued to bleed, but he disregarded it completely, shaking it carelessly and splattering blood onto the floor. He dashed back to his office, frantically searching through drawers for first aid supplies to staunch the flow of blood.
His heart raced uncontrollably as if it might leap from his chest at any moment. He couldn't believe how out of control he had become; usually so composed, now he felt cornered by James. Gasping for air, he was filled with humiliation, resentment, and helplessness. He knew he was on the brink of collapse, all thanks to James.
William's fingers trembled as he rummaged through the clutter; blood continued to trickle from his wound, staining papers and documents on the desk. He didn't care about the value of those academic achievements; all he wanted was to find gauze or iodine quickly to stop this damned pain. Emotions and anxiety surged within him like a flood, overwhelming him so much that he didn't even notice a figure standing behind him.
Suddenly, a bottle of iodine was gently placed on the table. The sound it made was almost inaudible, but for the tense William, it felt like some sort of demonic reminder.
"Shit!" William reacted instinctively, his heart skipping a beat as an expletive escaped his lips. He looked up sharply, shock and fear washing over him—James stood there. That playful yet sinister smile mirrored back at him like a cold reflection in a mirror, amplifying William's inner resentment and helplessness.
"Thanks." William fought against the wave of nausea rising in his chest and forced a grimace that barely resembled a smile as he uttered those two words. His voice carried an unmistakable chill, as if those brief words concealed all his hostility beneath a veneer of false politeness.
James continued to smile, as if he found immense amusement in this scene. He stood there with his hands casually tucked into his pockets, exuding a chilling elegance, seemingly relishing William's predicament and helplessness.
William's anger was nearly explosive, but he couldn't let it out. This feeling made him feel suffocated, like an animal cornered with no escape, forced to endure the humiliation churning within him. Without saying another word, he grabbed the iodine with a fierce grip, biting down hard on his teeth as he twisted open the cap. The wounds on his hands had already been tortured by blood and shards of glass, and he could no longer bear even a moment's delay.
Without hesitation, he poured the iodine over his wounds. Instantly, the intense sting of the alcohol ignited a burning pain that felt like flames; he could clearly feel the wound searing painfully, causing him to involuntarily gasp for air and then exhale sharply, his face turning pale in an instant.
"Hiss—" William gritted his teeth, furrowing his brow tighter as beads of sweat began to form on his palms and forehead. His gaze was fixed on his bleeding hand, as if that could distract him from the agony. However, the fiery sting pierced through his nerves like needles, making him tremble uncontrollably.
James stood nearby, slightly bowing his head with an unchanged smile, seemingly filled with a silent appreciation for this spectacle. His eyes were deep and cold, carrying an underlying mockery and disdainful pleasure, as if this dual torment of William—both psychological and physical—was merely an entertaining game for him.
"I should really thank you..." William murmured to himself, pain and resentment flickering in his eyes. He suppressed the urge to immediately strike James down and struggled to steady himself. The iodine dripped from his hand onto the table, mingling with blood to form dark red stains—symbols of a silent war.
James looked at the blood droplets with an even deeper smile. He always played these psychological games with ease.
William lowered his head, fixating on his still-bleeding hand, refusing to look at James's face that he loathed so much. Despite the fury boiling within him, he didn't want to continue entangling himself with James, especially not in such a humiliating situation. He tightly wrapped the gauze around his wound, growing increasingly agitated with each movement as if that would alleviate the turmoil inside him.
However, as he tightened the bandage round after round, William's thoughts began to shift. He suddenly realized something—at such a late hour, there was no one else in the office; everyone had already left for the day. Why was James still here? He raised his head and looked suspiciously at James standing beside him.
Did he have some special purpose? There was no way he would just appear here without reason... William's mind raced faster and faster as an unsettling feeling crept in. This cunning guy must have some plan.
Just as William was caught up in his tangled thoughts and suspicions, James seemed to see right through him. He chuckled softly before speaking in that gentle yet eerie tone: "I stayed here just to see you and have a few words with you."
James's voice echoed clearly in the empty office, resonating in every corner. In that moment, William froze, staring wide-eyed at James as if someone had just exposed the deepest secrets of his heart. He couldn't hide the shock on his face; it felt as though someone had opened up his mind and read every thought he'd just had.
"You—" William opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but the words caught in his throat, and the sound that escaped was surprisingly dry. In that moment, all his emotions—anger, fear, confusion—surged to the surface, leaving him momentarily paralyzed.
James still wore that damned smile, his eyes glinting with a knowing look, as if he were a cat toying with a mouse, relishing William's panic and helplessness. "I know exactly what you're thinking, William," he said, his tone laced with an unsettling confidence, even tinged with mockery.
"Don't be so surprised," James continued, speaking as if discussing the most mundane of matters. "I'm just checking in on an old friend to see how you've been lately. After all, we have a lot of unfinished business to attend to, don't we?" Each word felt like an invisible knife slicing through William's nerves, piercing deep into the resentment that lay within him.
William clenched his fists, the anger within him nearly boiling over, yet he found no escape from James's presence. He felt his will being ruthlessly eroded, a humiliation that left him feeling completely under James's control.
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