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墨書 Inktalez
Marbury's body shook violently, and he struggled desperately. His right foot was firmly tied by the rope. He twisted wildly, hoping to use the power of the swing to make himself fall down, even if he fell to the ground and was shattered to pieces. Better than the horrible suspension now. His arms flailed helplessly, trying to grab anything to hold him up, but there was nothing around him except for him, dangling feebly in mid-air. The rope was like a ruthless chain, tightly constricting his ankles, as if the shackles were tailor-made for him and would not loosen at all. "Damn it, let me down!" Marbury shouted in horror, sweat flowing down his forehead and into his eyes, burning his vision. His head became heavier and heavier because it was hanging upside down, and his vision began to blur. Blood continued to flow to his head, making his consciousness gradually become hazy. "I don't want to die... I don't want to die!" Marbury's voice became hoarse and desperate, and tears poured out uncontrollably. He wailed in pain, waving his hands, trying to grab something to get rid of this nightmare. Dilemma. "Please! I still want to live!" However, Hunter was completely indifferent. He stood not far away, facing the silvery moonlight, and his crazy laughter echoed in the night sky with the cold wind. He held a gleaming knife in his hand, which reflected the moonlight and looked extremely sharp. The knife trembled slightly in his hand, as if waiting for some strange ritual to begin. Marbury's eyes were filled with fear, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Hunter actually slowly aimed the knife at his chest, and the bony chest shone strangely in the moonlight. Hunter's hand was light and steady. He laughed and pointed the tip of the knife at his thin skin. "No... don't do this... are you crazy?" Marbury shouted weakly, his voice full of fear and despair. But Hunter had no intention of stopping at all, with a crazy smile on his face and an indescribable light shining in his eyes. As the blade slid across his skin, Marbury watched in shock. Hunter actually stabbed the knife deeply into his chest and began to slowly cut an inverted triangle wound. Blood slowly seeped out from the wound, and the bright red liquid contrasted sharply with his pale skin, as if it were a deliberately carved painting. There was no trace of pain in Hunter's expression. Instead, he laughed, and his laughter became more and more crazier, like a devil's whisper coming from the abyss. The movement of cutting the wound was smooth and calm, as if performing some ancient and sacred ritual. "What is this...for...?" Marbury stared at all this in stunned silence. His mind was in chaos and he could not understand what was happening in front of him. Hunter seemed to be completely immersed in his own world, letting blood flow continuously from the inverted triangle wound on his chest. His laughter formed an extremely terrifying contrast with Marbury's wailing. "Is this... crazy...?" Marbury's voice became weak, his throat became hoarse due to fear and exhaustion, his hands hung down weakly, and his body swayed slightly in the air with the rope. He couldn't understand the madness before him, nor could he predict what would happen next. The only thing he was sure of was that he was in an extremely dangerous situation, and this crazy man... seemed to be preparing to perform some incredible act. The blood looked extremely dark against the silvery moonlight, like a dark red in the night, thick and evil. Every drop of blood slowly flowed down from Hunter's chest, as if carrying some strange vitality, sliding down his skinny body, and finally dripping on his exposed genitals. The organ that was originally so weak gradually became erect with the touch of blood, as if sensing this evil force, it gradually became erect. And at this moment, the dark clouds in the sky dispersed silently, as if driven by some invisible force. The moon, which was originally hidden behind the clouds, slowly emerged from the dark clouds, casting its soft moonlight onto this strange open space again. The moonlight seemed to be attracted by this dirty and filthy ritual, and the silvery white light became colder, as if silently watching Hunter's crazy actions, illuminating all the uncleanness and evil that should have been hidden in the darkness. Frantic.
Hunter felt a surge of excitement as he witnessed the scene before him, as if he had been inspired by the moonlight or summoned by some dark force. His laughter turned sharp and wild, echoing across the clearing in a chilling manner. His body trembled, not from the cold, but from an overwhelming pleasure that surged from deep within him. He lowered his gaze to his chest, watching as blood flowed slowly down his skeletal frame, moistening his erect member.
"Hahahahaha...!" Hunter's laughter grew increasingly maniacal as he reveled in the intense pleasure of his actions. It was as if blood had transformed from a mere source of life into a symbol of his mastery over powers beyond the ordinary. Each drop that spilled from his wounds was an act of desecration and rebellion against the world, a sacrifice offered to the endless abyss of darkness.
"This is... power..." Hunter whispered, his eyes filled with fervor, devoid of reason, consumed by madness and greed. He was completely dominated by this evil force, lost in the cruelty and filth of it all; his erect member became a symbol of the boiling ecstasy of both body and spirit.
Blood dripped between his legs, the searing sensation bringing him inexplicable delight. He trembled all over, tilting his head back toward the moon as if awaiting some judgment from the darkness or a deeper revelation. He was utterly entranced by this moment, as if it were the true liberation he had always sought.
Meanwhile, hanging upside down from a tree, Marbury watched in horror as this scene unfolded before him. Fear washed over him like a tidal wave; he felt nausea churning in his stomach. Everything was too insane, too repulsive for him to comprehend.
As the moon fully revealed itself, its silvery light became blindingly bright, resembling a giant eye coldly observing this tainted ritual ground. The air around them grew heavy with an unusual weight, as if some invisible force lurked within the darkness. Suddenly, low and eerie voices emerged from the surrounding thickets—whispers that seemed to argue amongst themselves.
At first, the voices were sporadic and carried an ominous echo, as if countless spirits were peering through the shadows. Gradually, they became clearer, intertwining into a chaotic cacophony of sound—like numerous ghosts fighting over something they desperately craved. The whispers floated through the air like an unseen mist, wrapping around Marbury's suspended body and making the atmosphere feel increasingly cold and suffocating.
Marbury's eyes widened in terror as he frantically scanned his surroundings; his vision blurred with fear. The voices swirled around him relentlessly. He could sense countless unseen eyes lurking among the trees, coldly watching him like a pack of hungry beasts fixated on the blood dripping from Hunter.
"What is this... what is happening...?" Marbury's voice trembled; his throat was parched and could no longer produce a strong sound. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he struggled to contain his overwhelming fear, helplessly swaying in mid-air while the ropes tightened around his ankles, causing pain that only heightened his panic.
"Let me down! Please let me down!" Marbury's voice became sharp and hoarse with terror; his heart raced as if it might explode. He struggled incessantly like a captured animal searching for any chance of survival but found no means to free himself. His limbs flailed weakly, filled with despair and dread.
The voices continued to echo around him, growing more frantic and chaotic as if those invisible spirits were competing for something unseen, arguing amongst themselves while ready to pounce on the blood that kept dripping down. Marbury felt a heavy aura of death enveloping him; those whispering voices seemed to roar in his ears, screaming madly and amplifying his terror.
Unable to hold back any longer, he burst into tears; they flowed like a flood down his face, glistening coldly in the moonlight. His body swayed helplessly amidst cries for mercy filled with despairing fear. He wailed in agony and pleading: "Please let me go! I don't want to die... I don't want to die!"
However, the spirits surrounding him showed no sympathy for his cries. They grew increasingly excited and agitated, greedily encircling the wicked ritual, as if anticipating an inevitable sacrifice about to be completed. Marbury could feel their presence; the souls from the depths of darkness were closing in on him, yearning for his fear, craving that unavoidable death.
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