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墨書 Inktalez
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The sound was undoubtedly made by the Blood-Eyed Monster; only its claws could produce such a piercing noise against the stone ground. I couldn't understand its actions, but that was normal—everything about the creatures here was utterly incomprehensible. However, I knew one thing: in the next moment, it would pounce and tear me apart.
But before the Blood-Eyed Monster could leap at me, another voice reached my ears. "Do I have a grudge against you? Are you planning to kick me to death?!"
It was Jack's voice.
"Damn. You're not dead!" I couldn't express my shock and joy.
My back must have been a bloody mess, and the severe pain prevented me from performing any acrobatic moves, but I still scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could.
Jack was alive; that was the best news ever! Even though I might have to endure a lot of suffering and whether I could save him was uncertain, just knowing he was still breathing filled me with exhilaration.
I first grabbed the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight. Its light made it impossible for the monster to hide, allowing me to secure it in my hand. Then I began searching frantically for my dagger.
I couldn't rely on Jack, who was barely hanging on. Taking on the Blood-Eyed Monster alone would already be a tremendous challenge. If I lost my only weapon—the dagger—I knew it would shatter me psychologically.
Jack was right beside me; I hadn’t kicked him away but had merely turned him over. He lay on the ground facing me, his body trembling as if he were in a fit. It seemed that the sound had affected him even more intensely.
The flashlight quickly spun around me before finally landing on Jack's face. When I was knocked down, I couldn't throw the dagger far; it was my only means of defense, and I treasured it dearly. If it weren't for the impact of my head against the stone, I wouldn't have let go of it. I didn't see my dagger anywhere nearby, so the most likely place it could be was under or on Jack.
The One-Eyed Beast Flashlight shone closely on Jack's furry white face, making him uncomfortable as the bright light forced his eyes shut. Even though his swollen eyes were barely open, it was clear he was furious. "Stop shining that thing in my face and help me stop the bleeding. I'm about to die here."
Honestly, I was even more anxious than he was. No matter what happened next, he could only wait—wait to die or wait for me to save him. But I had to keep fighting. "I'm looking for my knife. Have you seen it?"
Silence was my only answer. I didn't see my dagger on Jack's back either; if it were embedded in him, it should be sticking out of his back.
Cursing under my breath, I lifted my head. It seemed I would have to take on this monster with just my bare hands. I knew where its weakness lay; the moment I saw it clearly, I understood—it was in its head, especially its eyes. The problem was that I had more weaknesses than it did; compared to its steel-like claws, I felt like nothing more than a paper doll.
I moved the flashlight away from Jack's face; the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight had to be my only weapon and hope now. I hoped its bright light could blind the creature's Crimson Eyes, even if just for a moment, giving me a sliver of a chance.
As I adjusted the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight to its brightest setting, I aimed it at the Blood-Eyed Monster. It should be close enough; after increasing the brightness, the beam widened significantly. However, when the flashlight illuminated the area at human height, there was no sign of the Blood-Eyed Monster.
My cold sweat soaked my clothes as I struggled to determine whether it had left its original position or had taken a crouching stance. I quickly shook the flashlight downward, only to be met with a scene that left me speechless: it was dead.
I stood there in shock.
There was no doubt that it had died completely. Its body lay sprawled on the ground, its head twisted backward at an unnatural angle. Two blood-red eyes stared unblinkingly at the ceiling, devoid of light, coldness, or anger.
I turned to glance at Jack in disbelief. The flashlight still illuminated the corpse of the Blood-Eyed Monster, while Jack lay motionless on the ground in the darkness, his expression unreadable. I was torn between admiration and fear; my emotions were a tangled mess.
Jack's military knife lay in front of the Blood-Eyed Monster. I stepped forward to pick it up and plunged it into the monster's exposed neck. Green blood gushed out, splattering all over me. It was truly dead.
"Are you done yet? If you don't stop the bleeding soon, there won't be anything left to stop."
My shock and contemplation were interrupted by Jack's voice, which sounded strong and clear, far from being on the verge of death. He seemed fully aware of his surroundings.
I turned back, and under the flashlight's beam, I noticed Jack shifting his gaze to observe my actions. At that moment, I saw a pool of blood beneath him; it appeared that his injuries were indeed severe.
I hurried over and turned him over, seeing several deep wounds on his left chest and a large chunk of flesh missing from his right arm, blood oozing from the gaping hole. It seemed he had hit a major artery.
The backpack was by the fire, so I first tied off his right arm to stop the bleeding, then dragged him back. Compared to Jack's injuries, the scratches on my back were trivial, but there was a problem: I couldn't carry him.
More than feeling anxious, I was furious about Jack's injuries. This could have been avoided; his reckless bravado could get him killed.
I couldn't help but complain, "Have you watched too many action movies? Playing the hero in this situation is just asking for death."
"You think I wanted to? If I hadn't rushed out, you would have been done for."
I was momentarily stunned. Was it really that serious?
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