Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Fear reached its peak within Marbury as he violently shook off the man's hand, breathing heavily, and shouted in anger, "Where the hell are we going? This place is too damn weird!" His voice echoed through the narrow alley, filled with anxiety and unease. His fingers clenched into tight fists, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest.
However, the man paid no heed to his questions, not even bothering to turn his head. Instead, he let out a derisive laugh in the cold night wind, a sound that was harsh and grating, like a blade scraping against metal, further tightening Marbury's nerves.
"Weak-willed, Marbury. No wonder you can’t accomplish anything; you can't even be a decent thug. You're just a failure, aren't you?" The man's words dripped with sarcasm, piercing Marbury's pride. Each syllable felt like a needle stabbing mercilessly into his heart.
Upon hearing this, Marbury's anger ignited instantly. He growled lowly, raising his fist without hesitation and swinging it toward the man. "Shut up!" he roared, all the humiliation and frustration morphing into pure rage at that moment.
His fist landed solidly on the man's back with a dull thud. The man was caught off guard and fell heavily to the ground. His body crashed onto the slick pavement with a thump, as if a hollow shell had collapsed. Yet to Marbury's surprise, the man emitted no groans or cries of pain; he lay there quietly as if all life had been knocked out of him.
Marbury's fury subsided slightly, replaced by an eerie silence. He stood frozen in place, staring at the man on the ground, a sense of unease rising within him. His fist still trembled slightly; the earlier anger had swiftly transformed into confusion and fear.
"Why isn’t he reacting at all...?" Marbury pondered anxiously, his breathing becoming more rapid. He suddenly regretted his impulsive action; this man did not seem ordinary in any way. He had put considerable force into that punch—why did it seem as if it hadn’t affected him at all?
Just as Marbury hesitated about whether to check on him, the man suddenly moved. Without any groans or expressions of pain, his body trembled slightly as if he were a rigid puppet slowly rising from the ground. The motion appeared unnatural, joints making faint cracking sounds that sent chills down Marbury's spine.
The man stood upright, swaying slightly as he brushed off the dust from his clothes as if nothing had happened. He turned to face Marbury again, still wearing that eerie smile, his eyes filled with coldness and mockery—as if Marbury’s punch had had no effect whatsoever.
"Is this your power?" The man chuckled ominously, a hint of disdain in his tone. "You can't even knock me down properly; with such little ability, you think you can change your fate?"
Watching this unfold sent cold sweat cascading down Marbury's back. His fists remained clenched tightly but suddenly felt utterly powerless and absurd in light of what had just happened. The man's laughter echoed in his ears once more, filling him with deep despair and helplessness.
The man's face slowly turned toward him from the darkness; shadows peeled away from his features to reveal a pale and eerie visage. His gaze was like an icy abyss, deeply penetrating Marbury’s soul. His sunken pupils flickered with an indescribable chill that enveloped Marbury in an overwhelming sense of pressure—he could barely breathe.
The man's hands rested lightly on Marbury's shoulders, cold as the hands of a corpse. The moment they touched him, Marbury involuntarily shivered. The man's movements were slow, filled with an eerie calmness and control. A faint, chilling smile curled at the corners of his mouth, and his voice was low and hoarse, like a whisper from another world.
"I won't force you..." the man said coldly, yet his voice carried an irresistible power, as if each word weighed heavily on Marbury's heart. "But my life has already changed. If you want to possess power, if you wish to change all of this, you must not be afraid."
Marbury trembled all over, his heartbeat thundering in his ears, yet he could not tear his gaze away. The man's eyes were like sharp knives, locking onto him tightly; he could neither evade nor escape. Those cold hands pressed heavily on his shoulders, making him feel as if he bore the weight of the entire world.
"Belief is the path to a person's success," the man’s voice resonated softly, like an invisible spell filled with temptation and allure. His words echoed in Marbury's ears like a long aria, slowly seeping into his heart and resonating with the dark desires deep within him.
Marbury leaned slightly forward, trying to shake off this pressure but found himself unable to move. His thoughts were chaotic; fear and desire intertwined within him, creating tumultuous waves in his heart. He knew he should distance himself from this strange man, away from this mad pursuit, yet the man's words felt like an undeniable truth that he could not reject.
"Is... what you say true?" Marbury's voice trembled as he struggled in the abyss of self-doubt and confusion.
The man's smile deepened, but the chill in his eyes intensified. "You know the answer, Marbury. The fear within you is merely a shackle that hinders you. Once you possess belief, this world will never be able to crush you."
Marbury felt a tingling sensation at the back of his neck as he looked at that twisted smile. His heart was filled with fear, yet he could not deny the profound temptation brought forth by the man's words. It was a voice of truth, revealing the deepest secrets of this world that he found impossible to resist.
His throat felt dry; he could not utter a single word and could only nod silently. His heart still struggled against itself, but he understood that he had already been drawn into this dark path with no way back.
The man said nothing more, as if he had completed all his tasks. He turned and continued walking with an eerie steadiness, his gaunt figure gradually merging into the darkness. Marbury stood frozen in place, his chest rising and falling rapidly as confusion clouded his mind. Yet moments later, it felt as though his feet were no longer under his control but were being driven by some invisible force. His legs began to move involuntarily as he took a step forward.
He felt an unsettling current spreading through him, but his body showed no signs of stopping. Marbury's steps were heavy and stiff yet continued to follow that man as they walked straight ahead. They traversed narrower alleys, gradually distancing themselves from the city's lights and heading towards the endless darkness of the outskirts.
As they moved forward, the surroundings began to change gradually. Marbury looked around; those familiar cityscapes had been swallowed by darkness and blur, leaving only vague shadows and the distant hum of the city behind them as reminders of where they had just departed. His heartbeat quickened even more, as if it might leap out of his chest at any moment.
The mud and weeds on the ground began to thicken, and the shadows of the trees grew sparse and oppressive, making the surroundings increasingly desolate. As they ventured into the outskirts, the damp, low shrubs and irregular short branches began to brush against Marbury's cheeks and arms. The sharp thorns of those branches lightly pricked his skin, sending waves of faint stinging sensations that made him uncomfortable, yet he could not stop moving forward. This pain seemed to remind him that the path he was treading was no longer familiar; it was an unknown and perilous dark trail.
Cold rain continued to fall gently, with fine droplets striking the leaves, intertwining and colliding with the branches, producing a crisp sound that resonated clearly in the silent night. Marbury felt the icy rain sliding down his cheek, soaking his collar, the chill penetrating deep into his bones. His body trembled in the cold darkness, as fear and desire intertwined within him, leaving him unable to discern what emotions he felt at that moment.
The rustling of leaves and bushes, along with the patter of raindrops, seemed to compose a strange symphony, rendering everything around Marbury unreal. He could only sense himself following the man's footsteps, traversing through darkness and dampness toward an uncertain fate.
"Where... are we going?" Marbury wanted to ask, but his throat felt frozen, unable to produce any sound. He could only continue to follow in the man's wake, like a lost lamb being led by darkness through this desolate wilderness.
Comment 0 Comment Count