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墨書 Inktalez
On the playground, the students were convulsing, their eyes vacant yet fervent, muscles taut to the limit as if pulled by some invisible force to the brink of collapse. Their bodies trembled slightly, fists clenched tightly, knuckles turning white, shaking uncontrollably from an unquenchable desire. Some emitted suppressed wails, their voices low and distorted, as if trapped in a purgatory from which they could not escape, like a pack of trained hounds watching their prey but unable to pounce, only able to whimper helplessly, their inner hunger and madness without outlet.
Their eyes were fixated on the Director floating in the air, filled with a ravenous craving for flesh. Saliva dripped uncontrollably from the corners of their mouths; some even bit their lips until they bled, whispering fragmented words laced with insatiable thirst. The muscles in their limbs quivered incessantly, as if any extra word or slightest control would shatter them completely. Yet they could not move, unable to take even a single step, as if James's words had transformed into invisible shackles that firmly bound their actions.
James stood on the podium, tilting his head slightly back, arms raised high, fingers pointing towards the sky, a mad grin spreading across his face. In that moment, he felt he had control over everything—the silent awe, the profound madness, the endless desire—all firmly grasped in his hands. Looking down at the twisted faces of the students, their convulsing bodies and eyes brimming with longing, his inner ecstasy reached its peak as if the entire world trembled at his fingertips.
As he raised his finger high, an invisible force seemed to part the clouds in the night sky; the dark heavens slowly cracked open to reveal a large, round blood-red moon behind it. Moonlight spilled onto the playground, casting a dark red glow over the entire area. The moonlight seeped into every student’s skin with some strange energy; the fervent light in their eyes burned hotter under the blood moon as if their souls were ignited by its glow.
"Your waiting will be rewarded with the blessing of the blood moon!" James's voice was fervent and resonant, echoing across the playground like an irresistible divine decree. A triumphant smile spread across his face; his gaze was cold and mad like a ruler finally revealing his true self before all. "Prepare yourselves! The blood moon descends; power will return to me while you... you shall become witnesses of this great moment!"
His laughter echoed in the moonlight as the students below fell into a frenzy of ecstatic joy, their bodies trembling more violently from uncontainable desire. Their consciousness was consumed by a mad thirst, leaving only their faith in James growing ever more devout under the blood moon.
Suddenly, Director lost balance in mid-air and plummeted heavily towards the ground. He struggled wildly in midair, hands flailing helplessly like a bird thrown into an abyss, his eyes filled with despair and fear. However, his fall did not bring about the anticipated pain—instead, he landed on a soft "cushion." In an instant of shock, he looked down to see countless hands gripping him tightly; sharp nails dug into his skin like hooks, pain swiftly invading his nerves.
He barely gasped in astonishment when students surged forward around him, their faces alight with manic smiles and hollow eyes that sparked with beast-like hunger. Director struggled as desperate wails escaped his throat but were drowned out almost instantly by frenzied shouts and heavy breaths. Each student rushed to plunge knives into his body; blood gushed rapidly from countless wounds like a broken dam, staining their arms and clothes crimson.
"Ahhh!" One student’s eyes were bloodshot; twisted joy marred his face as he screamed while tearing at Director's arm. The sharp blade stabbed repeatedly into that already mangled flesh; he grinned maniacally as drool slid down from his mouth corner—lost in madness over what lay before him.
Director's limbs were pulled by countless hands; bones cracked under immense pressure with terrifying "snaps," as if they might break at any moment. His clothes were already shredded; fresh and old wounds covered his exposed skin—each stab brought excruciating pain. The students’ fervor could not be concealed; some even bit into his skin with reckless abandon as if trying to tear him apart alive. Director’s face was pressed against the ground; his legs twisted grotesquely. His vision blurred—he could only see countless twisted smiles and blood-soaked arms lunging at him—a scene that resembled a hellish nightmare.
The knife plunged repeatedly into his chest; each stab brought agonizing pain that forced hoarse screams from his throat. Pain exploded within him as blood poured out from ruptured flesh, staining the ground around him red. The students’ blades pierced through his chest and abdomen and even into his neck; each blade sliced through flesh sharply leaving deep crimson trails behind. Blood sprayed forth like an endless fountain while surrounding students paid no heed—seemingly viewing this blood as some sacred blessing—eagerly reaching out to smear it all over themselves.
"More... more..." a student murmured, his knife relentlessly stabbing into the body of the Director. His eyes were glazed and frenzied, as if he were trapped in an inescapable madness. Bloodshot eyes and trembling hands gripped the Director's shoulders tightly, plunging the blade into every intact piece of skin. His arms were already stained red with blood, yet a satisfied smile lingered on his face. Another student wielded a knife, repeatedly slashing open the Director's abdomen, the exposed intestines swaying in the air as bright red blood splattered onto everyone’s faces, staining the ground around them. The students' gazes fixated on every inch of flesh within him, yearning for more sacrifices, craving deeper destruction.
The Director's vision grew increasingly blurred, his consciousness gradually consumed by endless pain. The chaotic shouts and heavy gasps of the students filled his ears, while the excruciating agony of his limbs being torn apart forced intermittent cries from his throat, unable to halt this frenzied group. His body was no longer his own; it had become a feast for these students. Everything about him seemed to have been completely claimed by their bloodied hands, and this sacrificial frenzy pushed him into an endless abyss.
Meanwhile, James stood on the stage, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He coldly observed everything as if he were an artist savoring his masterpiece, relishing the madness and cruelty of this sacrifice while feeling the energy of the blood moon infusing into his soul. His gaze was deep and ruthless, as if the entire world lay within his control. In that moment, James's heart was filled with power and a mad sense of fulfillment; he knew that this "ritual" was merely the beginning of his grander plan.
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