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墨書 Inktalez
Samuel's spirit was gradually crumbling under the torment of that indescribable presence. His consciousness resembled a shattered mirror, with scattered fragments that could not be pieced together, reflecting a distorted and chaotic self. Deep within him, there was no longer the familiar self, but a boiling chaos where all thoughts, emotions, and memories intertwined into an inextricable tangle. He struggled to grasp something, but each attempt felt like a futile tearing, pulling him deeper into despair.
In this extreme turmoil, the dark presence acted like a parasite, silently burrowing into his fragmented consciousness and spreading quietly. At first, it was merely a faint whisper, laden with unsettling suggestions, swirling in the depths of Samuel's mind. But as time passed, it grew stronger, like countless tiny black tendrils crawling from all directions to envelop his awareness. These tendrils invaded not only his most secret thoughts but also spread through his memories and emotions, shattering everything he once held dear.
Whenever he tried to recall fragments of the past, those tendrils would swiftly bind and distort those memories. His mother's face became blurred, and past friends and life crumbled before his eyes. His thoughts were ensnared by these dark tendrils, like a corpse being devoured by countless maggots; every corner and every inch no longer belonged to him.
These entities continuously proliferated and spread in the depths of his soul, resembling an endless parasitic invasion. He felt his thoughts being slowly consumed by this writhing darkness, as if his entire self was being dismantled, gradually losing its shape. His consciousness was increasingly replaced by these parasitic presences; the parts that once belonged to him—fear, desire, anger, even his name and identity—were being erased bit by bit, transforming into a vague chaos.
"This is your fate," the formless voice swirled in his mind with cold delight. It was no longer an external invader but a part of him, omnipresent and inescapable. "Accept it, for you can no longer turn back. You have not lost yourself; you have gained a new existence."
Deep within Samuel's heart remained a flicker of resistance, but that faint flame was quickly snuffed out by the dark tendrils. Each attempt to resist only caused the parasitic darkness to proliferate and spread at an even faster rate. They occupied his brain and eroded his nerves, causing him to gradually lose touch with reality. The images in his consciousness became grotesquely distorted; he could no longer discern what was real from what was illusion, even his own voice felt foreign.
His inner world was no longer the familiar refuge he once knew but an endless labyrinth filled with crawling, writhing monsters. These monsters were formless yet palpably real; they seemed to sense the stench of decay and desperately climbed over one another to devour his thoughts, gradually replacing the self he once knew.
Samuel slowly lost himself, becoming an empty shell. The dark parasites bred deep within his soul, becoming his new masters. And he was merely a vessel in this boundless darkness.
Suddenly, a deep and seductive voice echoed in Samuel's mind as if rising slowly from the depths of darkness, carrying an irresistible power that resonated softly yet coldly within his consciousness. "Give up," the voice whispered with a heavy weariness and indifference. "You have endured too much; there is no need to continue this endless torment. Let go and let it all end."
This voice felt like an old friend long forgotten, speaking to the deepest fatigue and pain within him. Samuel sensed his will gradually crumbling like fragile ice melting under fierce flames. His heart had long been consumed by boundless fear and despair; all that remained was a yearning for release. The dark presence relentlessly gnawed at his last resistance until he felt utterly despondent; even the final glimmer of hope began to fade away.
"Give up; end it all." The voice grew softer as if soothing him into accepting his fate. The last thread of resistance in Samuel's heart unraveled under its guidance. He felt unable to resist any longer or escape; the choice before him seemed limited to one path—abandoning himself and relinquishing this tormented shell.
He stumbled toward the depths of darkness with heavy and powerless steps; each stride felt like moving closer to an abyss. The world before him became increasingly blurred; it seemed there was no end to the darkness ahead. Yet he knew this was his final resting place. His body began to sense a strange transformation—a feeling of indescribable lightness—as if he were gradually merging with this darkness.
His arms seemed to be gradually disappearing, like ashes scattering in the air, unable to grasp anything tangible. Samuel looked down at himself, only to find the edges of his body becoming indistinct, as if he were being consumed bit by bit by this darkness. His senses began to fade; the sounds around him, the sensations of his body, even the fear within him grew distant.
"This is liberation," the voice echoed again, filled with a certain delight. "Become a part of the darkness, vanish into this endless abyss. You no longer need to struggle; let go and end your suffering."
Samuel felt the weight of his body dissipating, as if he were no longer a tangible being but a wisp of smoke carried by the wind. His fingers, limbs, and even his inner awareness—all felt as light and fragile as ashes, gradually fading with the breath of darkness. Each step took him further from reality until he was completely absorbed into this unfathomable blackness.
The voice resonated within him, brimming with a sense of triumph. And Samuel's self-awareness, along with the spread of this darkness, slowly faded away.
Did Samuel still exist? We do not know and cannot know. Perhaps somewhere within his physical form, a barely perceptible thread of consciousness still struggled valiantly, like a glimmer hidden deep within, trying to survive in this boundless darkness. Perhaps that lingering awareness was trapped like a caged beast within its own body, unable to voice itself or escape—only able to silently hide and wait for a release that would never come.
Yet again, the voice in the darkness spoke, filled with endless mockery and triumphant laughter that echoed in this vast void, sending chills down one's spine. The laughter was deep and low, like an eternal command revealing the truth of the darkness. The existence within no longer hid; its voice loomed over its soon-to-be-devoured prey, full of manipulation and enjoyment.
"Nearly a century has passed; another body is ready to occupy." The voice whispered with boundless delight and victory, as if proclaiming the completion of some fate. It seemed to revel in each act of taking and consuming—a never-ending cycle—waiting for new life to enter this darkness so it could devour, occupy, and control everything they had.
This body once belonged to Samuel; perhaps it once contained his dreams, fears, and memories. But now, everything had been completely overshadowed by darkness; even the slightest struggle was ruthlessly erased. This shell no longer belonged to Samuel but to that formless dark entity that thrived and grew in this abyss, waiting for its next hunt.
Samuel's existence might have been nothing more than a fleeting resistance; perhaps deep within that endless darkness, a fragment of his consciousness still cried out for escape. Yet all would eventually fade with time. The darkness had long since taken control of everything—his body and soul ultimately became part of that abyss.
And the laughter in the darkness resonated like an echo of fate, filled with insatiable hunger and triumph, gradually drowning out all other sounds.
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