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墨書 Inktalez
The entire room felt as if it had been swallowed by an ominous force. The vibrations began from the floor, gradually spreading to the walls and ceiling, with the lights flickering as if struggling for life. This supernatural energy seemed to emanate from all directions, surrounding James like an invisible vortex, slowly pulling everything into its depths. The air was thick with pressure, so heavy that it was hard to breathe, distorting the space into something unreal, like a bizarre nightmare.
James knelt in a pool of blood, his body trembling violently from uncontrollable excitement. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, fixated on the strange phenomena occurring in the room, unwilling to miss a single detail. He felt this power enveloping him; it was not just a supernatural occurrence but more like a grand ritual, as if some mysterious force was preparing to manifest.
At that moment, the bodies of the old man and woman lying on the ground began to float slowly, as if lifted by invisible hands. Their corpses hovered in mid-air, limbs dangling lifelessly without a trace of vitality. Their skin was pale as paper, their eyes hollow and devoid of light, yet these bodies floated before James like puppets under control, becoming part of this ritual.
Then came the most bizarre scene—blood began to seep from the two corpses. The blood did not merely flow from their wounds; instead, it floated in the air in an unnatural manner. The crimson liquid seemed driven by some powerful force, leaving their bodies and rising slowly against gravity. This blood transformed into countless fine red threads that swirled and intertwined in the air, ultimately converging into a bright red stream resembling a river of blood, flying toward the window.
James's gaze followed the river of blood as it moved. Through the window, he saw the moon hanging high in the sky. Tonight's moon was unusually bright, its silver light covering the night sky; however, in James's eyes, it began to change. It was no longer just an ordinary bright moon but turned dark red, as if stained with countless lives' blood. The blood river continued its flight toward the moon like a sacrificial pathway, delivering the essence of life belonging to the old man and woman bit by bit to that distant celestial body.
The bright red thread shot straight across the night sky like a bridge connecting the room to the moon. James stared in disbelief as he felt this power gradually responding from the direction of the moon. The blood moon was no longer a silent celestial body but a massive eye coldly gazing down at him, as if conducting a silent judgment.
As blood flowed away, astonishing changes began to occur in the bodies of the old man and woman. Their skin became dry and dull, rapidly shifting from pale to gray as if decades or even centuries of decay had passed. The two corpses appeared drained of all moisture and nutrients, quickly shrinking. Their limbs began to sink inward; their skin tightly wrapped around their bones, which protruded more prominently due to lack of support—turning them into mere skeletons.
As time passed, this process of withering accelerated dramatically. The bodies of the old man and woman seemed to be drained within seconds; their blood, organs, and muscles vanished rapidly. Their faces twisted more grotesquely; their eye sockets deepened as if their eyes were being pulled from within. Their lips cracked open, teeth bared until finally their skulls compressed as if losing all signs of life—transforming into mere dry skeletons.
Blood flowed continuously through the air while their bodies withered at an incredible speed until they became desiccated husks—their skin resembling dried bark tightly wrapped around their skeletal frames with no excess flesh remaining. James watched all this unfold; his exhilaration reached its peak. Kneeling in the pool of blood, he trembled as if this ritual had connected him with this dark power.
The book emitted an eerie glow once more; faces twisted on its pages wailed in agony as if reveling in the satisfaction brought by this feast. Sharp cackles mingled with cries of pain and screams echoed through the air as if the entire room had become a gateway to hell. James knelt at the center of this ritual, immersed in blood, his body shaking with that dark force; he knew that this revelation transcending reality was descending upon him—and he would be both witness and beneficiary.
The vibrations in the room reached their peak; it felt as though space itself was tearing apart and collapsing around him. Yet James felt an overwhelming excitement and satisfaction. He knew that supreme power was drawing near; this sacrifice had triggered a dark summoning—he would embrace his destined fate.
As blood scattered through the air, that once pristine white moon gradually became stained with deep crimson—as if countless lives were offering sacrifices to it. The moonlight transformed from soft silver to a chilling scarlet hue as if the entire night sky were ablaze, soaked in endless blood. The blood-red light poured into the room, reflecting James's ecstasy and making him feel like he stood at the center of this supernatural force—as the chosen one.
In the room, the dark red book emitted a continuous wail, its sound resembling a symphony from the depths of hell, accompanied by painful moans and frantic screams, weaving together into a bizarre waltz. James listened to these cries, his fervor reaching its peak. His eyes were filled with madness, his body no longer under the control of reason, completely immersed in this wicked dance.
Suddenly, he sprang to his feet, his steps light and buoyant, as if the music had taken control of him. He began to dance in the blood pooled on the floor. His feet splashed in the slick puddles, making a "splat, splat" sound, as if keeping time with the sharp wails. His arms spread wide, his movements comical yet twisted, a deranged smile plastered across his face. He spun and leaped, as if celebrating this evil sacrifice.
Blood splattered beneath his feet, the thick liquid making wet sounds with each step he took. The blood on the ground seemed to become his exclusive stage, illuminated by the blood-red moonlight. James's steps quickened; his body twirled with the wailing sounds, each movement light and eerie, as if every action expressed his thirst for power and ecstasy.
"Hahaha! This is fate's choice!" James laughed maniacally, his tone filled with enthusiasm and excitement for this wicked ritual. His body trembled with exhilaration; as the mournful cries echoed around him, his steps became even lighter, as if he had transcended reality and fully merged into this dark melody.
His feet glided through the bloodstains, crimson splattering up to his ankles and even flying outward with his movements. The viscous blood danced like red ribbons in this performance, swaying with each step he took. The entire scene resembled an absurd carnival; James's dance was filled with madness and distortion, bathed in scarlet moonlight that seemed to bind him tightly to this evil ceremony.
The wails, James's laughter, and the splashing sounds in the blood merged into a supernatural celebration, with James as the star of this ritual. He danced freely in the blood pool, reveling in the pleasure and power that surged from the depths of hell, completely immersed in this dark revelry.
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