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墨書 Inktalez
James's fingers gently glided over the pages of the book before he closed the dark red volume with a soft thud. Holding it in both hands, he turned and slowly walked towards the old man and woman. His movements appeared light, yet there was an indescribable strangeness about them, as if he were drawing closer to an inevitable disaster with each step. The book still emanated an odd aura, as if it concealed some unfathomable power, and with his footsteps, an invisible sense of oppression quickly enveloped the room.
The old man tensed instinctively upon seeing James approach, stepping in front of the old woman with his arms slightly outstretched, as if to shield her from harm. His expression grew serious, veins bulging on his forehead, and his eyes fixed intently on every movement James made. Despite the fear swelling within him, his duty as a husband forced him to maintain composure, his voice laced with suppressed anger. "James, you better stop this strange behavior!"
He struggled to keep his tone steady, but the unease inside him was impossible to hide completely. His breathing quickened, heart racing violently; he knew this confrontation was unavoidable. He continued, "We came here with friendly intentions to check on you! We are not your enemies and we mean you no harm! But what you're doing now... we don't like it. Please let us leave this place immediately."
The old woman shrank behind her husband, gripping his sleeve tightly as her fear reached its peak. Her eyes were filled with pleading, never leaving James's figure, as if bracing for some unknown danger.
The old man's voice rang clear in the air, but James did not halt his advance. A faint smile played on his lips, his gaze remaining cold and deep, as if he had dismissed the old man's words entirely. After hearing that statement, he suddenly erupted into a fit of laughter—soft yet mocking—like he had just heard the funniest joke in the world that he could not contain.
"Haha... Hahahaha!" James's laughter grew louder, infused with an indescribable madness and derision. It echoed throughout the room, sending chills down their spines. The sound sliced through the old man's dwindling sanity and composure like an invisible blade.
James gradually came to a stop, looking up at the old man and woman with an increasingly evident grin and a strange glimmer in his eyes. "Friendly intentions?" His voice was low and slow, tinged with disdainful mockery. "You came here to check on me... how amusing. Do you even know where you stand? Do you realize what you've stumbled upon?"
Clutching the book tightly in his hand, its dark red cover glaring under the light, James's laughter began to fade away, replaced by a chilling calmness. "Do you think you can just come and go as you please?" he whispered, his tone dripping with clear threat and amusement.
The old man's fingers involuntarily tightened; beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead as he realized how perilous their situation had become. James's maniacal laughter and the book in his grip made it clear that this was no longer the neighbor they once knew.
James advanced step by step, clutching the dark red book tighter, his smile growing more sinister. His gaze was cold and sharp like a predator closing in on helpless prey. The old man and woman pressed against the door, their fear reaching its zenith. The old man's heart raced; breathing became heavier as he recognized that this oppressive atmosphere could no longer be ignored.
He scanned the room anxiously for anything that could be used for defense—a teapot on the coffee table, cups scattered about, even a magazine lying on the desk—he struggled internally to find something seemingly trivial to fend off James's impending threat. The pressure mounted stronger; sweat pooled in his palms.
James seized upon this moment of panic; a smirk crept across his face as wicked light flickered in his eyes. Just as the old man's gaze darted toward the teapot beside him, James suddenly lunged forward with swift ferocity, moving like a shadow ready to pounce.
"Ah...!" The old woman watched helplessly as James made his move, trying to shout a warning, but her words caught in her throat, panic rendering her voice weak. She reached out with trembling hands to stop him, but it was too late.
James raised the dark red book in his hand, which seemed to transform into a weapon in an instant. His movements were devoid of hesitation, filled with determination and malice, as his arm swung like a blade, striking fiercely towards the old man's head. The weight of the book sliced through the air with a dull whoosh.
"Bang—!"
The book struck the old man's temple with a heavy thud, the sound echoing ominously and sending a shiver down one's spine. The force of that blow was staggering; the old man had no time to react, his body collapsing like a marionette with severed strings, consciousness fading with that impact. He fell heavily to the ground, curling up weakly as blood slowly seeped from his forehead, staining the floor.
"No! No...!" The old woman's voice trembled, nearly inaudible. She knelt on the ground, tears streaming down her face as she reached out with shaking hands towards the fallen old man, trying to shake him awake, but his eyes were already closed, unresponsive.
James looked down at the old man on the ground, a slight smirk forming on his lips, joy and madness intertwining in his gaze. He still held the book tightly in his hand, now stained with the scent of blood. Slowly turning his head, he coldly regarded the old woman still kneeling on the floor, his eyes filled with the pride and excitement of a hunter.
The old man lay on the ground, his head having taken such a violent blow that his body was nearly limp. Blood gushed from his temple, the crimson liquid rapidly spreading and soaking his face completely. Blood flowed down from his forehead and nose, ultimately pooling on the ground in an ever-expanding puddle. His breathing was faint; the rise and fall of his chest barely perceptible, as if the last vestiges of life were being slowly drained away.
However, just at that moment when it seemed life was at its end, the old man's eyelids suddenly fluttered. As if experiencing a moment of clarity, he struggled to open his eyes. His vision was blurred; blood clouded his pupils, yet he fought to keep his consciousness intact. He parted his lips slightly; his voice was hoarse and weak, almost unrecognizable: "Go... hurry and go... don't mind me..." His tone was filled with despair and resolve, urging the old woman to escape this madness.
Hearing his words, tears streamed down the old woman's face as she grasped at his sleeve with trembling hands, her heart filled with pain and helplessness. She could not bear to witness this scene before her—the husband lying in a pool of blood—still using his last strength to urge her away. Her lips quivered as broken words escaped her throat; tears blurred her vision: "No... I can't leave you..."
But at that moment, James sneered and lifted his foot without hesitation, bringing it down hard onto the old man's head.
"Bang!" James's foot crashed down onto the old man's head with a dull thud against the floor. The old man's head was pressed into the ground as blood splattered everywhere; it felt as though every last ounce of life had been crushed under that foot. A muffled groan escaped from the old man's mouth before falling silent; pain twisted across his face as he trembled slightly, blood seeping from between his lips and soaking into the ground.
"Shut your mouth!" James shouted viciously, his voice low and cold, filled with cruel threat. The force beneath him showed no sign of weakening; madness flickered in his eyes as he reveled in this sadistic pleasure. The old man's head lay motionless under James's foot; his body twitched slightly as consciousness faded along with the loss of blood.
"Please... stop..." The old woman knelt on the ground, her knees trembling weakly. She looked at her husband lying in a pool of blood, her heart filled with a tearing pain. Her hands clutched her chest tightly, as if her heart were being squeezed, her breath coming in rapid gasps, nearly choking her.
"James, I beg you... stop this madness, please!" she cried out hoarsely, tears streaming down her face, mixing with her husband's blood on the cold floor. Her voice was raspy, despair having eroded her will, and she trembled uncontrollably.
James looked down at the old woman kneeling before him, a flicker of disdain crossing his eyes. The corners of his mouth curled slightly upward, revealing a cold and ruthless demeanor, completely dismissing her pleas. The force beneath his feet remained unyielding, showing no sign of stopping, as if he intended to crush the old man's life entirely, prolonging this horrific revelry.
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