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墨書 Inktalez
Every step Isabella took felt like crossing an abyss, her legs heavy as lead. The sound of her footsteps echoed in the empty bridge corridor, each step striking like a hammer against the silence of her heartbeat. Darkness loomed like an invisible monster, slowly closing in from all sides. No matter how hard she tried to straighten her back, the pain in her body spread relentlessly.
"Keep walking..." she whispered to herself repeatedly, as if this mantra could counter the agony in her mind. With every passing moment, she felt the Black Worm within her slowly eroding her will. They burrowed through her veins, muscles, and bones, each movement akin to countless tiny knives scraping inside her, bringing excruciating pain. She sensed that they were not only devouring her flesh but also attempting to destroy her soul.
"Stop it, Isabella..." the Worms whispered in her mind, their voices hissing like venomous snakes, filled with temptation and threat. "You cannot succeed; you will only die in vain. This is all meaningless... Give up; this ship and you will perish in this darkness..."
Isabella shook her head vigorously, trying to suppress these voices, but they clung to her like maggots, omnipresent and inescapable. Her vision began to blur, dark shadows at the edges encroaching relentlessly, yet she forced herself to keep her eyes wide open, striving to remain awake. She knew that any lapse would allow these voices to completely steal away her sanity.
With each step, she felt sharp pains in her bones as if countless needles were piercing deep into her joints. Her ligaments felt scorched and taut, on the verge of tearing apart at any moment. A heavy weight pressed down on her chest; each breath felt like it was burning through her lungs, the air in her throat becoming unbearably hot, nearly suffocating her.
"Don't... stop..." Isabella clenched her fists tightly, nails digging deep into her palms as blood trickled down her fingers. She used the pain to keep herself conscious, forcing herself to move forward. The bridge corridor seemed endless; each step felt like plunging into an infinite abyss as the dark walls around her twisted more and more in her vision, as if the ship itself was consciously trying to consume her.
The red emergency lights cast a dim and eerie glow over the hellish scene before her. Thick black growths lined both sides of the corridor like some viscous tumors that writhed as she approached. Alien corpses littered the ground, their decaying shells overtaken by the black Worms; though long dead, their bodies continued to repair and rebuild as if granted a twisted life by these parasitic creatures.
"This is truly hell..." she muttered through clenched teeth.
The door to the bridge loomed ahead; Isabella could feel a powerful dark force seeping from behind it, resonating with the Worms inside her as if calling out to her. With every step closer, this sensation intensified, pulling her toward the abyss of destruction.
"Damn it..." she cursed softly under her breath, biting down on her lip until it nearly broke skin; blood mingled with saliva as she relied on pain to stay alert. She knew time was running out; the Worms were accelerating their takeover of her body with every passing second, corroding her willpower.
Finally, she reached the entrance of the bridge—a territory surrounded by darkness and growths—like a twisted temple awaiting her final sacrifice.
"Come on... end it..." she whispered to the door as if challenging the entire ship and these dark beings to a final confrontation.
As Isabella made her way to the Boiler Room, an uncontrollable pain spread from her limbs to her mind, no longer just a physical torment but a heavy pressure from deep within her soul. Her vision began to blur, and the darkness and lights of reality transformed into vibrant phantoms before her eyes, as if the entire world was collapsing. Just as she felt she could bear it no longer, a wave of distorted memories suddenly swept over her, pulling her into a hallucination.
The surroundings began to change; she was no longer in the dark, decaying Alien Spaceship but standing in the center of a bright and magnificent venue, surrounded by a bustling crowd with flashing lights all around. Isabella stood on stage, facing familiar and revered faces. These were her peers, her rivals, her fans, and at that moment, they were all cheering for her. She held high a gleaming award in her hands, the most prestigious honor in the field of biotechnology, symbolizing her unparalleled status in this domain.
A sense of pride and fulfillment filled her heart like never before; the thrill of conquering the world made her almost forget all past pain and sacrifice. The stage lights illuminated her figure as the people below looked up at her in awe, each one marveling at her success and captivated by her talent. Isabella clearly heard their praises ringing out from the crowd:
"She is the genius who saved modern medicine!" "Isabella Holt—the prophet of this generation!"
Visions of her arduous journey flooded back; she saw herself tirelessly working in the lab, breaking through barriers in biotechnology, mastering a fundamental understanding of life. Her success was not just a personal victory but also a family honor. The Holt Family had once been on the brink of economic and political collapse, but under her leadership, they had returned to prominence, becoming titans in the scientific community.
"This is the result of my hard work..." she whispered to herself, feeling that long-lost sense of achievement as if the world was within her grasp.
Yet as this pride surged within her, an unsettling ripple began to stir deep inside Isabella. She looked down at the faces admiring her and suddenly noticed their gazes had shifted. Those eyes grew hollow and cold, as if they had lost their souls. As she refocused her gaze, she realized that the praises were becoming distorted—low and eerie—as if emanating from deep underground. The bustling crowd seemed to vanish in an instant, leaving only an oppressive sense of suffocation.
The faces below began to twist and contort into something strange and terrifying. Their eyes turned into deep black voids, their mouths twisted into cruel smiles that emitted piercing laughter. "Do you really think you can save it all?" "Your genius is nothing but a joke!" "You cannot escape this!" Those voices became sinister and filled with hostility, intertwining with the whispers in her mind.
"No!" Isabella gasped internally, trying to break free from this illusion. She looked again at the award in her hand only to find it crumbling before her eyes into fragments that dissipated into dust along with the air around her.
"None of this is real!" she shouted inwardly, her voice echoing in her mind.
However, the surrounding illusion grew increasingly aggressive; she saw the pleading faces of her parents before their passing and the despair once felt by her family. All hopes and dreams transformed into shackles from an abyss that mercilessly bound her feet.
"Do you really think you've done enough?" The whisper carried a sharp mockery. "You've worked your whole life; you've saved your family—but so what? Your genius is nothing but a ridiculous joke destined to be swallowed by darkness!"
"No..." Isabella gritted her teeth, her eyes gradually filling with determination. "This isn't real! I can control my own destiny!"
She suddenly opened her eyes, and the illusion vanished. Reality returned before her— the narrow corridor leading to the Boiler Room. Under the red emergency lights, it seemed as if every step she took was drenched in blood. But she could not stop; she knew that if she moved forward just a little further, perhaps everything would come to an end.
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