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墨書 Inktalez
Mocus lay on the bed, feeling the effects of the medication gradually spreading through his body, causing him to relax. However, as his body loosened, an unusual sensation crept into his mind. It was as if some invisible force was burrowing deep into his consciousness, penetrating the barriers of self-defense he had erected, reaching into his deepest memories.
The low voice echoed again, but this time it was no longer mere murmurs; it became clearer and more distinct. This voice seemed to carry an evil power, coldly recounting Mocus's past experiences, as if it had witnessed everything firsthand.
"Do you remember, Mocus?" the voice whispered, as if murmuring in his ear. "You were just a few months old, trying to stand for the first time. Your mother smiled beside you, watching as you wobbled and grasped the edge of the table..."
A jolt ran through Mocus; this memory had long since faded, and he could not even be sure if it had truly happened. Yet the voice spoke with such detail that every moment felt vividly clear.
"And then there was the first time you felt the fear of death. You were seven years old when your pet dog was hit by a car. You knelt beside it, tears streaming down your face, unable to comprehend why it had suddenly become so quiet..."
The voice continued to resonate in his mind, unveiling hidden memories buried deep within. Some were long forgotten, while others were painful experiences he had tried to erase. Now, this voice mercilessly dragged them out one by one, as if interrogating him about his past.
"Do you remember your first time? In the university dormitory, alcohol made you both let go of your inhibitions; her breath was hot and rapid against your ear... You thought it was love, only to realize afterward that it was merely a reckless impulse of youth."
Mocus's breathing quickened; it felt as though a massive stone pressed down on his chest. He could not understand how this voice knew every detail of his life—even those things he had forgotten himself. A bone-deep fear gripped him, as if all his secrets were laid bare before this unknown presence.
"You cannot hide, Mocus," the voice grew colder. "I know everything about you; I have always been by your side, watching and waiting... No matter what you try to escape from, I will find you and hold all your truths in my hands."
This declaration sent a shiver down Mocus's spine. He struggled against this mental control, attempting to banish the voice from his mind but found himself utterly powerless. The force slithered like a serpent in the dark, silently invading his consciousness, seizing his most secret memories while continuously whispering in his ear, forcing him to confront a past he wished never to revisit.
Mocus felt himself being consumed by this power; the voice grew stronger and gradually occupied his thoughts. This irresistible sensation plunged him into an abyss of despair; he did not know how long this torment would last or whether he could endure it. The only certainty was that this voice had firmly grasped him; no matter how hard he struggled, he could not escape its corrosive grip.
In Mocus's mind, the whispering voice suddenly erupted into ecstatic laughter that pierced through him like a knife. The laughter echoed in his head, throwing his consciousness into chaos. It carried a cruel mockery as if ridiculing Mocus's helplessness and struggle.
"I know your obsession, Mocus," the whispering voice said slowly, filled with a sinister allure. "You want to uncover the truth, don't you? That desire, the yearning for the truths behind all historical mysteries, has long been rooted in your heart, impossible to uproot."
The words struck like a sharp knife, piercing deep into the most hidden corners of Mocus's soul. His relentless pursuit of historical truths and his obsession with unsolved enigmas drove him to explore ancient ruins, seeking answers long buried by time. This obsession had become the strongest motivation in his life, and now, this voice was relentlessly digging into his inner desires, making it impossible for him to resist.
"Come now, I can give you the answers," the voice grew deeper and more enticing. "The truths you crave... I can show you."
In that instant, a series of never-before-seen images flooded Mocus's mind, as if some force had forcibly implanted them into his consciousness. These images flashed through his mind like a broken film reel, leaving him unable to distinguish reality from illusion.
He saw himself running through a dense jungle, his feet sinking into the damp earth as trees rushed past him like phantoms. The air was filled with incomprehensible noise and shouts—an ancient and unfamiliar language he could not understand. Yet he felt the urgency and despair within those words. The scenes were so vivid that it felt as though he were experiencing them firsthand rather than merely envisioning them in his mind.
"What is this...?" Confusion and fear swelled within Mocus; he could not comprehend where these images came from or what they represented. But he knew they had no connection to his past, which only heightened his terror.
In the images, the person running seemed to be fleeing from something, their breaths quick and heavy as leaves rustled beneath their feet. Suddenly, the scene shifted, and he saw the person's face—a stranger filled with terror and sweat, their eyes reflecting endless despair. Those eyes stared deeply at Mocus as if pleading for help or warning him of something.
As the images continued to change, Mocus felt his consciousness traversing this ancient memory. He watched as the person fell before a massive stone tablet covered in strange symbols that turned crimson in his sight, as if flowing with blood. The figure opened their mouth to scream; though the language remained unintelligible, their voice was filled with pain and desperation.
Everything seemed to be a scene from thousands of years ago; the ancient and mysterious atmosphere weighed heavily on Mocus, nearly suffocating him. He sensed that he was being forcibly drawn into a past he had never experienced before. The voice guided him, allowing him to witness this history buried by time.
"This is the truth you desire..." The voice echoed again in his mind, laced with a chilling satisfaction. "Do you see? This is just the beginning..."
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