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墨書 Inktalez
James's mind was a whirlwind, as if an invisible force was tearing apart his thoughts. He felt as though he had grasped all the mysteries of this world, all the hidden roots, laws, and truths lurking in the darkness. This knowledge surged into his consciousness like a flood, blurring the lines between reality and illusion. His gaze became more bewildered, yet a strong and unsettling desire began to rise within him.
When he looked at the elderly couple before him, a deep voice started to echo in his mind, growing clearer with each passing moment. The voice whispered and tempted him, as if it came from the other side of the world. "Kill them... sacrifice them to the Moon God..." The voice was evil and eerie, resonating with an irresistible power in James's consciousness, like some ancient curse.
James felt a mad craving consuming his sanity; the voice in his heart grew louder, forcing him to pay attention. His gaze fixed on the old man and woman standing before him, defenseless and unaware, trying to help him. Yet that voice urged him on relentlessly, compelling him to take the lives of these two innocent souls and offer their blood to the Moon God.
"You must grow stronger..." the voice whispered, laden with extreme temptation. "For your future, for boundless power, for standing at the pinnacle of this world... they are nothing but insignificant obstacles. Once you sacrifice them, you will gain supreme power."
James felt a heaviness in his chest; his breathing quickened as bizarre images flashed through his mind. In mere milliseconds, he seemed to glimpse a not-so-distant future—a crimson moonlight illuminating the earth, glowing as if rising from blood. Under that moonlight, he was no longer an old and frail professor but a being brimming with strength. His body regained youthfulness, muscles firm and radiant with power. He stood at humanity's peak, wielding infinite knowledge and authority while the world lay submissive at his feet.
The allure of that power was so tempting, so real; it felt as if he could attain it immediately if only he wished. To achieve this future, all he needed was to sacrifice the two ignorant elderly people before him.
"Make the sacrifice; offer it to the Moon God..." The voice echoed again, this time more urgent and filled with command and seduction. James's eyes narrowed slightly as countless possibilities flooded his mind. His fingers trembled involuntarily, as if already prepared to act. He understood that if he chose to do so, these two lives could end at any moment, allowing him to embrace that power and step into a glorious future.
At that moment, James's reason began to crumble; the evil force continuously corroded his soul, making resistance impossible. He gazed at the elderly couple before him; an unusual light flickered in his eyes—not shock or gratitude but a profound and secret desire.
James clenched his fists tightly; his knuckles turned white as cold sweat seeped from his palms due to tension and suppression. The wicked voice still echoed in his mind, urging him to take action. The inner craving grew stronger by the second, making it hard for him to contain himself. The old man's annoying voice rang in his ears repeatedly: "Are you okay, James? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?"
This endless concern ignited a quiet fury within James. The voice in his heart grew louder, nearly overwhelming him. "Shut up..." he cursed inwardly but still forced himself to suppress his emotions. He knew he couldn't lose control here—not now.
Taking a deep breath to quell his agitation, James forced a strained smile back onto his face. He slowly stood up; his movements were somewhat stiff, but he tried hard to appear calm and composed. He looked up at the elderly couple and spoke gently yet apologetically: "I'm sorry... I'm really sorry for worrying you both. I just... might have been feeling unwell earlier; I truly appreciate you coming here."
The old man and woman exchanged glances, their faces showing a hint of confusion. They were astonished by James's sudden change—just moments ago he had seemed dazed and unresponsive; now he was behaving so politely and even overly enthusiastically.
"No, no need to apologize. We were just worried about you..." The old man's voice still carried a hint of unease, his gaze occasionally darting toward James, as if still trying to ascertain whether he was truly alright.
"It's fine," James replied with a smile, his tone laced with reassurance. His eyes sparkled with a secretive glimmer as he continued, "Since you're all here, why don't I treat you to some tea? We can chat a bit before you leave."
The sudden warmth in James's invitation left the elderly couple momentarily speechless. They were taken aback by his unexpected enthusiasm. James was usually reclusive and aloof, rarely initiating any invitations for them to do anything; this invitation felt particularly unusual.
"Tea?" the old woman asked, her brow furrowed in confusion, clearly caught off guard by the suggestion and harboring a hint of suspicion.
"Yes, since you've come all this way, I can't let you leave empty-handed," James said softly, though the depth in his gaze remained enigmatic, as if concealing something inscrutable. As he spoke, he bent down slowly to pick up a dark red book from the floor.
In his hands, the book seemed unusually heavy. The symbols on its cover radiated an eerie energy, silently pulsating with some kind of power. As James's fingertips brushed against the rough surface of the cover, a familiar malevolent aura surged back into him, as if establishing a connection.
The elderly couple did not notice anything amiss with the book; they merely stood by awkwardly watching James. Holding the book tightly in one hand, he smiled at them, his voice imbued with an unclear significance: "Don't worry, it will be over soon." His tone seemed slightly off, as if hiding some sort of plan.
The old man and woman exchanged glances; although they found James's behavior strange, they didn't want to appear overly suspicious. The old woman nervously fiddled with her sleeve, still hesitating on whether to accept James's invitation.
James once again displayed a friendly smile, waving his hand in a gesture for them to sit down. His tone grew even more enthusiastic as he said, "Come on, sit down. I've just acquired some excellent tea leaves that are perfect for this weather. I also brought back some macarons from France—specially prepared for you to try today."
The elderly couple paused for a moment, exchanging looks filled with doubt. James was typically so reserved and taciturn; his sudden warmth today seemed out of character. Especially considering how weak he had appeared just moments ago, this abrupt change felt unsettling to them.
"Excellent tea leaves?" the old woman asked softly, her face reflecting confusion.
"Yes, just got them—rare finds. I even paired them with some macarons I brought back from France," James explained with a smile that carried a hint of pride. "I recently traveled to France and happened to buy some French pastries that go perfectly with this tea."
Hearing him mention going abroad and France, the old man and the old woman exchanged a glance, the topic easing their tension slightly. The old woman nodded gently and said, "Well... that does sound quite interesting." The old man nodded in agreement; although they still felt some confusion, they ultimately decided not to decline James's warm invitation.
"Then we won't be polite, thank you for your hospitality," the old man said politely, and then he pulled the old woman to sit down on the sofa together.
Seeing them settle in, James smiled even more broadly and turned to walk toward the kitchen, casually saying as he walked, "Just wait a moment, I'll be right back. This tea paired with Macaron will surely amaze you."
As the couple sat on the sofa, the atmosphere in the room seemed to ease a bit, but the unease in their hearts lingered. The old woman occasionally glanced at James's back, still feeling something was off. She whispered to the old man, "Don't you think he's acting a bit strange today? Usually... he’s never this enthusiastic."
The old man frowned slightly and replied softly, "It does feel a bit off, but maybe he was just feeling unwell earlier; he seems better now. Let's just wait and see." His tone also carried a hint of uncertainty.
From the kitchen came the sounds of James busying himself—the hissing of water boiling in the kettle, the soft sound of the tea can being opened, and the clinking of plates and cups. He appeared to be thoroughly engaged in his tasks; despite his movements seeming somewhat overly deliberate, he still created a cheerful atmosphere. The couple sat silently on the sofa, glancing around James's room with a hint of wariness in their eyes.
At that moment, James stood in the kitchen, his hands busy while his mind was still filled with that sinister voice. A strange glint occasionally flickered in his eyes, and his movements hinted at an underlying restlessness. He knew that everything before him was merely a prelude; the real plan had only just begun.
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