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墨書 Inktalez
In an instant, the mercenary closest to Raymond had no time to react. He felt a sudden, icy pain in his chest as Raymond's dagger plunged deep into his heart. Blood erupted violently at that moment, and the mercenary's eyes went vacant, his face contorted with agony and terror.
Raymond moved with astonishing speed, as if the dagger were controlled by some invisible force, relentlessly stabbing into the mercenary's body, driven by an endless hatred for this flesh. One stab after another, the dagger pierced through his chest, abdomen, and even into his neck. Each thrust was fueled by Raymond's uncontrollable rage, blood splattering and staining the ground around them. The mercenary's body quickly became like a broken puppet, swaying precariously, but Raymond did not stop; it was as if he intended to tear this corpse apart completely.
"Damn it! Open fire!" another mercenary reacted immediately, his gunshot shattering the cave's silence as bullets flew swiftly toward Raymond. However, Raymond was quicker; without hesitation, he used the bloodied body of the fallen mercenary as a shield. The bullets thudded against the corpse with dull sounds, flesh flying apart as blood flowed from the bullet holes where the dagger had already embedded itself.
The mercenary's face was filled with horror as he watched his bullets fail to harm Raymond but instead shred his deceased comrade's body further, causing it to convulse violently. With eerie calmness, Raymond pushed the corpse forward, continuing to use it as a shield against the hail of gunfire while steadily advancing toward the mercenary like a relentless harbinger of death.
"Raymond, have you lost your mind?" The mercenary's voice trembled with fear as he frantically pulled the trigger, trying to halt this merciless slaughter. Yet Raymond's movements defied all logic; his eyes were hollow, filled with unimaginable cruelty and madness, as if completely possessed by some evil force. The dagger in his hand still glimmered with a deadly sheen.
Gunfire echoed continuously but could not deter the crazed teammate. Raymond kept closing in; the lifeless body remained his shield while bullets struck repeatedly into the immobile corpse, creating an utterly bizarre scene.
Raymond seemed completely unhinged. He suddenly hurled the dead mercenary's body toward the one firing at him. The heavy impact caused that mercenary to lose balance for a moment. Then Raymond’s dagger sliced through the air and swiftly struck the mercenary’s shoulder. With a sickening sound, it embedded itself deep into his right shoulder, blood gushing forth as he gasped in pain.
The mercenary gritted his teeth and quickly pulled out the dagger, attempting to fight back against Raymond. However, Raymond’s speed left him no chance to defend himself. Before he could throw a punch, Raymond had already leaped forward like lightning and delivered a powerful kick to his abdomen. The force knocked him off balance, sending him crashing heavily to the ground and leaving him breathless.
"Damn it!" The mercenary struggled to rise, but Raymond was upon him like a flash of lightning, swiftly disarming him before pinning him down on the ground. His legs pressed firmly against the mercenary’s chest, rendering him immobile.
Raymond’s gaze was vacant, entirely consumed by a frenzied power. He tossed aside the mercenary’s gun and pressed his knee heavily onto his chest, nearly suffocating him. With each punch Raymond threw downwards, the mercenary’s struggles grew weaker.
The first punch landed brutally on the mercenary’s chin with a sharp crack of bone breaking; his jaw visibly dislocated and unable to close properly. Blood immediately flowed from the corner of his mouth. Raymond’s fists were like iron; each strike carried explosive force.
The mercenary tried to shield his face with both hands, but Raymond offered no reprieve; his second punch connected directly with the mercenary’s right eye, instantly swelling it into a purplish mass that blurred his vision. Desperately struggling to push Raymond off him, he found that his strength was utterly insignificant against Raymond’s relentless assault.
"Stop! Stop!" the mercenary pleaded in agony, but Raymond's face showed no sign of hesitation; instead, it grew increasingly frenzied. His third punch struck the mercenary's nose, blood bursting forth like scattered beads from a broken string. The bridge of the nose was visibly caved in, and then a horrifying crack echoed as the mercenary's will to survive shattered completely.
The mercenary's vision blurred, consciousness began to fade, yet Raymond showed no signs of stopping. With each punch he threw, he felt an indescribable thrill, as if every blow released the violence within him. His fists moved faster and more fiercely, repeatedly smashing into the mercenary's cheeks, forehead, and chin, as if this body was no longer a comrade but an enemy that needed to be destroyed.
Bang! Bang! Bang! With each successive punch, the mercenary's skull began to fracture, crimson blood seeping from beneath the scalp. In one final swing, Raymond's fist connected directly with the mercenary's temple—the most vulnerable part of the human body—crushing his head into a grotesque shape, bones caving in like a crushed fruit pit, internal fluids splattering out.
Blood and brain matter sprayed like a fountain, and Raymond's hands were already stained red. He gasped for breath as sweat dripped down his cheeks into the shattered skull below. Even though the mercenary's body had long ceased to convulse, Raymond did not stop; he seemed to have lost all sense of reason, relentlessly pounding down with his fists until the flesh before him was reduced to pulp.
The mercenary's face was unrecognizable, a mass of blood and shattered bone. Raymond's fingers slid through the sticky flesh and blood, the slippery texture nauseating him, yet he did not pause; his eyes were filled with a sickly light. He appeared to be trapped in a state of madness from which he could not escape.
Suddenly, Raymond snapped back to reality, his heart racing as he heard his own rapid breaths echoing in his ears. His vision gradually focused; everything around him peeled away from the battlefield illusion to reveal a deep, cold cave. The walls loomed like grotesque faces mocking his recent brutality. He looked down to see the mercenary sprawled at his feet, face beaten beyond recognition, while his own hands were smeared with blood and chunks of flesh.
A wave of intense nausea washed over Raymond as he reached out to wipe away the repulsive bloodstains. However, as he stared at his palms, he suddenly witnessed an inexplicable sight.
In that moment, the blood transformed from bright red to thick and dark. It felt as if some strange force controlled his hands; blood began to flow unnaturally, and swarms of Black Worms surged from between his fingers and arms, crawling along his skin in a dense mass.
"Damn it... what is this?" Raymond gasped in horror at the sight of the Worms. They writhed silently like a dark tide covering his hands, slowly creeping up his wrists and elbows toward his shoulders. He glanced down at the mercenary’s face; from the gaping wounds began oozing similar Black Worms—those damned things were pouring out of the mercenary’s nostrils, ears, and mouth in a frenzy as if they aimed to consume Raymond entirely.
Panicking, Raymond flailed his arms in an attempt to shake off the bizarre Worms, but they clung tightly to his skin as if they had no intention of letting go. He felt them writhing beneath his skin, burrowing and gnawing at every inch of muscle and nerve.
"No! This can't be happening!" Raymond screamed in terror as he frantically slapped at his body in an effort to rid himself of the Worms. Yet with every strike, they spread even more recklessly as if feeding off his fear and growing stronger.
Raymond stumbled back against the cave wall, his spine stiff with dread. His vision blurred further; pain throbbed in his head as the whispers of the Worms became clearer—like countless chilling voices intertwining within his mind.
"Kill... Destroy... Accept us..."
The voice crashed over Raymond like a tempest, a fierce malice flooding into every nerve of his being like icy water. He felt himself rapidly losing control of his body, as if he would be completely consumed by those damned Worms at any moment.
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