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墨書 Inktalez
Diego Montoro slowly knelt down, basking in the sunlight beneath the Stained Glass. He lowered his head and emitted a deep, strange sound reminiscent of the Cicada Song. The sound echoed like a natural resonance, filled with an ancient, mysterious aura. Erin felt a chill run down her spine upon hearing it, her heart brimming with unease and fear.
At that moment, the Townspeople behind her began to hum along, their voices intertwining with Diego Montoro's Cicada Song, as if the entire church had transformed into a symphony orchestra tuning up. The rising and falling sounds wove through the church, creating a peculiar sound wave that filled the space with an atmosphere of mystery and eeriness.
Erin felt these strange sounds reverberating in her ears, her heart trembling violently. She glanced at Mark and Lisa, noticing they were equally shocked but still maintained their composure, observing everything before them.
As the low humming grew stronger, Raphael raised his dagger and slowly stepped in front of Little Rudy. His movements were filled with ritualistic significance; each step was heavy and powerful, as if he were performing some ancient and sacred rite. Little Rudy lay on the table, wearing an odd smile of happiness, his eyes vacant and dazed.
Raphael's figure appeared particularly tall and imposing in the sunlight as he held the dagger high, its tip glinting coldly in the light. The rays reflected within the church, intertwining to form a bizarre tapestry of light and shadow.
Erin held her breath, her eyes filled with fear and anxiety. Her heart raced as she was overwhelmed by the bizarre scene unfolding before her.
"What is happening?" Erin thought in terror, feeling an indescribable chill rising from deep within her.
The Townspeople's low humming grew louder, intensifying the atmosphere within the church to one of tension and sanctity. Raphael aimed the dagger at Little Rudy's neck; his movements were resolute and powerful, as if he were about to perform an immensely significant ritual.
Just then, Isabella waved her hand dramatically, causing the choir to suddenly emit a piercing scream that was high-pitched and mournful, as if it tore through the air. In that instant, Raphael's dagger swiftly slid toward Little Rudy lying on the table, slicing open a bright red gash across his neck. Blood gushed forth instantly, staining the tabletop.
Erin screamed in terror, completely bewildered by what these people were doing. Her heart raced wildly; she found it impossible to accept what she was witnessing. Instinctively, she stood up, wanting to rush onto the platform to stop it all.
"No! What are you doing?" Erin screamed, her voice filled with despair and anger.
However, Mark and Lisa quickly reacted, each grabbing one of Erin's arms to forcefully push her back down into a kneeling position. They knew that if Erin acted impulsively, not only would they expose their identities but they might also invite even greater danger.
"Calm down! Erin!" Mark whispered urgently, his eyes filled with anxiety and warning.
Lisa tightly grasped Erin's hand and said softly, "Now is not the time; we can't expose ourselves!"
Erin's body trembled violently, her heart overwhelmed with uncontrollable fear and anger. Tears filled her eyes, but she knew Mark and Lisa were right; they had to stay calm and find the right moment.
Raphael continued his ritual with cold indifference, his movements precise and powerful. Little Rudy's gaze remained vacant, his blissful smile appearing even more sinister. Blood flowed down his neck, staining his chest and the table.
The townspeople erupted into even more frenzied shouts at this sight. Their voices were filled with fervor and adoration, as if this moment was the sacred occasion they had long awaited.
"What is happening?" Erin thought in silent terror, feeling an indescribable chill rising from her core.
Little Rudy lay still on the table, his face growing paler as blood dripped steadily from his neck, pooling into a bright red puddle on the surface. Bathed in sunlight, Little Rudy resembled a sacred sacrifice, his hollow eyes and blissful smile appearing increasingly eerie and unsettling.
The screams and howls of the choir echoed throughout the church, filled with madness and frenzy. The sound was sharp and piercing, as if tearing through the air, making the entire scene feel bizarre and conflicting. Erin knelt on the ground, tears brimming in her eyes, her heart feeling as though it were being cruelly squeezed.
"What is happening?" Confusion and fear flooded Erin's mind as she struggled to comprehend everything before her. She looked at Little Rudy, her heart heavy with uncontainable sorrow.
Erin's body shook violently as tears streamed down her face. She felt utterly helpless and pained; the sight before her shattered her heart. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself, but the fear and anger within her only grew stronger.
Little Rudy's blood shimmered in the sunlight, as if partaking in some sacred ritual. The townspeople's cries reached a fever pitch, their voices brimming with fervor and worship, as if this moment was the divine occasion they had been waiting for.
"What is this town... what is this cult... what are they doing?" Erin kept asking herself, feeling an indescribable chill rise from deep within.
The Four Martyrs knelt reverently around Little Rudy, their heads bowed, lips silently moving as if reciting some ancient and mysterious scripture. Their movements were filled with ritualistic significance, their faces reflecting devotion and reverence, as if engaged in a sacred worship.
Diego Montoro stood beside Little Rudy, his gaze filled with fervor and awe. He reached out, gently touching Little Rudy's neck, his fingers stained with bright red blood. The blood shimmered on his fingertips, as if imbued with some mysterious power.
Eileen watched this scene unfold, her heart racing with shock and fear. She could not comprehend what was happening before her eyes, unable to believe the sight she beheld. Her heartbeat quickened, and she felt utterly captivated by the bizarre spectacle.
Diego Montoro slowly smeared the blood from his fingers across his face, his movements deliberate and solemn. The blood formed strange patterns on his skin, resembling ancient runes. His eyes burned with even more fervor, a slight smile of satisfaction curling at the corners of his mouth.
"This is our mission; this is our faith," Diego Montoro whispered, his voice thick with passion and zeal.
The townspeople erupted into even wilder shouts at Diego Montoro's actions. Their voices were filled with fanaticism and adoration, as if this moment was the sacred culmination they had long awaited. The atmosphere inside the church was charged with excitement and fervor, as if a grand feast was about to commence.
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