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墨書 Inktalez
James stood atop the indescribable evil creature, his gaze cold and merciless. With his hands raised high, he began to chant a mysterious incantation in a deep, ancient language. His voice echoed like a reverberation in a deep valley, gradually spreading as if an invisible vortex roared through the air. He knew that all the fear, pain, and death would become the supreme offering to the Blood Moon, awakening true power.
"Blood Moon... devour them..." James's voice carried a mad desire, his eyes filled with fervor for power.
The dark entity beneath him seemed to understand James's command, opening its gaping maw like an abyss of hell. As James's incantation echoed on, the monster emitted a low, buzzing growl like a hungry beast. Countless twisted eyes opened on its body, fixated on the terrified students, their gazes akin to hunters locking onto prey about to fall into a trap.
Its numerous tentacles began to writhe, resembling starving serpents stretching towards the helpless students. The first tentacle coiled around a male student's neck, lifting him effortlessly into the air. His screams mingled with the shrieks of those around him, reverberating in the air. The monster showed no hesitation; with a powerful tug, it tore flesh from bone, as if strong suction had ripped apart muscle and skin, producing a piercing sound of tearing. The student's body was instantly split in two, bones cracking as blood and entrails splattered through the air before being swallowed into that massive maw.
Tearing and devouring became the only sounds in this place. The creature resembled an insatiable machine of death; with each body it consumed, its form swelled further. The tentacles grew more ferocious, mercilessly stripping flesh from those students one by one and swallowing them into its unfathomable depths. Every eye radiated a desire for death and madness, staring at everything around as if driven by an endless hunger.
The screams in the room gradually diminished as most people could no longer muster the strength to cry out. Their bones were brutally stripped from their flesh; skin was torn away like rotting rags, dismembered bodies flew about while entrails were hurled into the air before being consumed by the endless darkness.
James watched all of this unfold with a satisfied smile creeping onto his face. The flesh and suffering were becoming offerings to the Blood Moon according to his plan, awakening the power he so desperately craved. His incantation quickened, his voice rising higher as if pushing this ritual toward its climax. He paid no heed to those futilely attempting to escape or their wails; all of this was merely a necessary path to power.
At that moment, James's gaze swept back to Emma. She remained kneeling on the ground, her eyes tightly shut as if completely unaffected by the massacre around her. A flicker of interest crossed James's face; he grew more curious about her true intentions. But for now, he chose not to delve deeper. He had more important matters to attend to—offering all this flesh and pain to the Blood Moon to bring him endless power.
With each act of consumption, James felt himself gradually filled with strength. His blood seemed to ignite; his muscles and bones grew stronger as if every inch of his skin bore an indescribable energy. He could feel this power surging within him, tearing apart his past weak form and transforming him into something beyond mortal existence.
A low and satisfied laughter echoed from above the ceiling, sounding as though it emerged from an endless abyss or ancient murmurs reverberating through this distorted reality. This laughter was filled with cold approval, as if all pain, death, and bloodshed had become its source of delight. The voice resonated continuously alongside countless wails and cries of vengeful spirits, as if the entire world rejoiced in this sacrificial offering.
"Very good... exceptionally well..." The voice was deep and authoritative, penetrating every corner and suffocating all living beings present. "You have done remarkably well, James. Your sacrifice pleases the Blood Moon immensely... you shall become its sole emissary."
In that moment, James heard that voice descend upon him like a divine decree—cold yet filled with authority. His heart raced; his blood boiled as his desires and ambitions ignited like fire. Without realizing it, James bent his legs slightly and knelt in reverence on the ground, his eyes sparkling with fervent light and a devout smile gracing his lips. He understood that this was a sacred moment—a turning point in his destiny.
"I am willing to become a servant of the Blood Moon..." James whispered, his voice imbued with deep reverence and submission. "My soul, my body, my will, shall be entirely devoted to you... I will accomplish everything for you."
The low voice continued to echo in the space, carrying with it an evil delight and endless authority, as if countless invisible hands were caressing James's soul, forging a terrifying pact with him. This voice promised power, immortality, and the authority he had always longed for.
"You shall become the sole agent..." the voice repeated this promise, as if it were etched into the depths of James's soul.
James's body trembled slightly, not from fear, but from inner ecstasy. He understood that he had finally embarked on the path to supreme power, becoming the chosen agent of the Blood Moon. Before this dark force, he was no longer a mere mortal but the future sovereign. A wicked smile curled at the corners of his mouth as he eagerly anticipated the future—a world that belonged to him, one that he could control.
"Everything will be under my command..." James murmured to himself, kneeling in the darkness, welcoming the divine oracle.
As his whispers gradually faded away, the space seemed to contract violently, as if invisible walls were closing in, compressing this twisted dimension into a small enclosed world. James could feel the pressure around him rising continuously; the air grew thinner and colder, while this distorted reality began to collapse into nothingness.
The presence beneath his feet let out a satisfied growl, like a greedy beast savoring the last drops of its prey's blood. It voraciously absorbed everything around it—flesh, bones, and souls—all devoured by that enormous mouth. That mouth seemed like an endless abyss, consuming not just life but the very existence of space itself. The students who once filled this place with fear, pain, and madness—their bodies, their wails, their blood—were completely erased as if they had never existed in this room.
Reality and time twisted together; only emptiness remained on the floor of the room, without a trace left behind—only the essence of the Blood Moon faintly resonating in the air.
Yet amidst this void, Emma remained kneeling on the ground, her body straight and steady. Her posture was profoundly devout, as if everything unfolding was within her control and expectation. James's gaze swept over her, finding this scene oddly intriguing.
She showed no fear; even before this terrifying force that seemed to consume heaven and earth, she maintained an unusual calmness and composure. Her lips moved slightly as if whispering something; her hands gently caressed the ground, her face devoid of terror but instead bearing an almost reverent expression as if welcoming a mysterious arrival that had long been destined.
James stared at Emma, feeling a mix of confusion and excitement stir within him. He knew she did not belong to this ritual yet appeared so natural in this moment as if she already knew what would happen. Her very presence seemed inexplicably linked to this frenzied summoning.
"How... are you here?" James finally spoke up, his voice tinged with curiosity but revealing no hint of panic. He had already taken control of everything; Emma's presence could not shake his plans.
Emma did not respond immediately; she slowly lifted her head and looked calmly at James. Her gaze was deep and resolute, as if it pierced through the darkness and connected directly with James's soul. She smiled faintly, a smile that carried an eerie coldness, as if she had already foreseen all the possibilities of the future.
"Professor," she said softly, her tone gentle yet filled with strength, "this is just the beginning."
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