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墨書 Inktalez
The officials behind James sat motionless in their chairs, as if held fast by some strange force, their remaining consciousness completely consumed by the scene before them. Each of them stared, wide-eyed and aghast, at the group of students who resembled wild beasts, their expressions filled with terror and confusion, as if witnessing an incomprehensible hellish spectacle. The pounding of their hearts echoed in their ears, sweat trickled down their faces and necks, soaking their clothes and clinging to their skin with a chilling coldness that could not rouse them from this terrifying nightmare.
An elderly official from the Education Bureau trembled as he gripped the armrests of his chair tightly, his eyes fixed ahead, filled with extreme fear and shock. His knuckles turned white as if he had exhausted all his strength, yet his legs continued to shake uncontrollably, his knees pressed tightly against the edge of the chair, unable to rise. It was as if fear had locked him in place, rendering him incapable of any movement. His mind instinctively screamed to flee, but his limbs felt bound and immobile, forcing him to watch helplessly as the students tore at the Director's limbs and devoured his flesh, like a nightmare from which he could not awaken.
Another official, once sitting upright, now slumped grotesquely. His face was pale as paper, lips trembling with a hint of blue. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, fixated on the frenzied students, fear consuming all rational thought and leaving his mind in chaos. He did not know how to react; a hoarse sound escaped his throat, but no words came forth. Suddenly, he felt a warmth in his lower abdomen and realized he had lost control in his terror. Urine streamed down his legs, soaking his pants and seeping into the chair beneath him, releasing a pungent odor that he could no longer care about; all that remained in his mind was an overwhelming dread of death and destruction.
"This... this is impossible..." The principal's throat quivered as he whispered almost inaudibly. His hollow and terrified eyes stared at the group of students in the center of the playground; the surroundings had blurred into a crimson haze. Every scene before him felt like an absurd nightmare. Just thirty seconds ago, his colleague—the Director of the Education Bureau—had been a living person; now he was nothing more than a pile of twisted flesh. All bones had been shattered; blood and meat lay scattered everywhere on the ground alongside severed fingers and broken bones. He could only vaguely see countless hands madly tearing at the Director's body while blood flowed across the ground like a winding stream, staining it dark red.
"This group... this group of beasts..." One official's gaze began to dull as he gripped the armrests tightly; veins bulged on the back of his hands as his nails dug deep into the wooden surface of the chair. It seemed this was his only support to prevent complete collapse. However, this horrific scene had utterly shattered his sanity. He wanted to escape from this hellish sight but found his legs powerless; he felt his heart racing faster while cold sweat dripped down from his forehead. Yet his eyes remained uncontrollably fixed on that slaughterhouse scene as if bound by some dreadful force.
The students in the center of the playground were completely lost in madness, using both hands and feet to tear apart the Director's remains. Every piece of flesh was ripped apart and seized with insatiable hunger. Blood splattered across the ground; several students even cupped their hands to catch the blood, eagerly smearing it on their faces as if receiving some sacred baptism. Their hands were drenched in blood; their eyes sparkled with an abnormal fervor and satisfaction as they chewed on remnants of flesh, producing horrifying crunching sounds. The few students at the center were covered in bloodstains, their faces displaying an ecstatic expression as they bent down to gnaw at the Director's flesh, treating this torn body as an irresistible feast; their teeth sank into it, blood oozing from their mouths while their lips and chins turned crimson.
The officials' faces were pale; their eyes reflected extreme fear and despair. Some unconsciously began to cry softly, tears welling up without making a sound. Their throats felt blocked; they could only tremble without uttering any words of resistance. Their minds were occupied by visions of fear and madness, making it nearly impossible to distinguish reality from nightmare. The coldness in their limbs gradually spread to their hearts; a sense of powerlessness slowly eroded their consciousness like frost.
Their sanity had long since crumbled; their gazes were vacant and hopeless. This hellish scene had utterly destroyed what little rationality remained within them. They could not comprehend or accept what was happening; they could not even react as fear consumed them like a black hole. They could only watch helplessly as these students tore apart and devoured the Director's body, splattering bright red blood onto the earth.
James stood on stage, looking down at the blood-soaked students below with a cruel and arrogant glint in his eyes. A smug smile crept across his face before he threw back his head and laughed loudly; his voice echoed through the night sky with absolute pride and satisfaction for everything unfolding before him. "Hahaha! Wonderful! Just wonderful!" His laughter boomed like thunder across the empty playground, as if this brutal slaughter was an outstanding performance for which he alone was responsible.
The ground was littered with pieces of the Director's shattered body; scattered flesh no longer resembled human form but rather fragments ruthlessly torn apart. Bright red blood flowed like streams across the ground, gradually seeping into the soil to form a dark red pool. The students gasped for breath in frenzy; their eyes remained wild with excitement while their hands dripped with blood as if still intoxicated by this senseless destruction. With the complete disappearance of the Director's physical form, vengeful spirits began to rise from the ground as if released by blood—these dark entities wailed softly while twisting into flight towards the night sky, heading towards a blood moon like a response to this sacrifice.
Emma led her fellow cultists behind her in a low yet eerie chant that resonated with pain and sharp fervor—as if every note contained some hidden energy. The cultists wore expressions of devotion on their faces; their eyes were hollow yet fervent as they layered their voices together to create invisible ripples that penetrated everyone's souls. This strange chant resembled a call from an abyss—its rhythm heavy and oppressive—imbued with indescribable power that enveloped the entire playground in a chilling atmosphere.
Suddenly, several cultists stepped forward without hesitation; eyes closed with expressions bordering on ecstasy. They no longer hesitated but pulled open their robes to reveal bare chests before swiftly using short knives to slice open their wrists without any second thoughts. Blood gushed from their wounds like dark red streams cascading onto the ground below—quickly spreading into an ocean of blood beneath them. Their gazes flickered between pain and ecstasy as if this self-destruction was the highest honor they could achieve.
"Blood Ritual, the Blood Moon descends!" Emma whispered fervently, her eyes filled with a devout madness. Her voice guided the few sacrificers as they raised their hands, using their blood to begin sketching a massive magical circle on the ground. Blood flowed continuously from their wrists, quickly splattered and smeared across the surface, each stroke infused with undeniable determination and fervor. The expressions of these cultists gradually turned pale, their breaths becoming rapid; yet they continued to inscribe bizarre runes on the ground, as if transforming the entire playground into a vast ceremonial ground.
The outline of the magical circle gradually emerged from the blood's depiction, resembling a gigantic web that ensnared the students and James at the center of the playground. Emma's voice grew increasingly high-pitched, her gaze sparkling with an unusual light, as if she were about to welcome a mysterious arrival. The magical circle formed by the coagulated blood shimmered with an eerie red glow under the night sky, like the eye of a blood moon slowly opening, gazing upon this dark celebration.
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