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墨書 Inktalez
In the place where the Roasted Bat should have been, I slowly crouched down. My swollen stomach made it difficult to maintain this position for long.
It was as if half of a Roasted Bat was still here, and I stared at the spot intently.
This area was the cleanest patch of stone ground around the campfire, located directly opposite where Jack was resting. In other words, I was sitting across the fire from him. His side was filthy due to vomit and excrement that had not been cleaned up in time. It wasn't that I intended to neglect him; it was just that he had lost control of his bowels, making it hard to clean up promptly. Of course, I wasn't exactly a qualified caregiver either.
On the stone ground, there was a noticeable oil stain left by the Roasted Bat meat. There were no traces around this oil stain.
The Roasted Bat meat was greasy, and if it had been dragged away, there would surely be some evidence left behind. However, this situation felt more like it had simply vanished into thin air.
It certainly didn't disappear on its own. I gripped my AK-47 assault rifle tightly in both hands and chambered a round with a click. I didn't stand up; crouching was uncomfortable for me. I knelt on my left knee while my right leg formed a right angle to support my body, the rifle resting against my right shoulder, its muzzle pointing toward the darkness above.
The Bat Meat had vanished without a trace, not even a drop of grease left where it once lay. It was as if it had flown straight up from that spot.
A cooked duck wouldn't fly away, nor would a roasted bat. But there were things here that could fly—like that group of Giant Bats.
I thought that group of bats had left because I could no longer hear them. Now it seemed I had underestimated them; they must have hidden themselves away. Even their hunting echolocation seemed deliberately muted; they were waiting for me to make a mistake.
But why would they take the Roasted Bat? Would they eat their own kind? This half of a Roasted Bat was right next to the campfire; they should be afraid of fire. How could they come down and take the Roasted Bat?
These questions puzzled me, but I no longer had the time or mental energy to figure them out. I needed to focus on finding them and guarding against their ambush.
Although the campfire burned brightly, its light was insufficient to reach the ceiling; the darkness beyond seemed endless. The muzzle of my AK-47 aligned with my eyes as I widened them as much as possible but still couldn't see anything in the dark. There were no signs of Giant Bats in the areas illuminated by the firelight.
At this moment, the drawbacks of holding an AK-47 became apparent; it was too heavy for me to use one-handed. If I had a Micro Submachine Gun, I could hold it with one hand while using the other to turn on my One-Eyed Beast Flashlight for illumination.
I didn’t switch weapons. Instead, I used my left hand to turn on the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight while supporting the rifle with that same hand, synchronizing the flashlight with the muzzle. This maneuver posed some difficulty for my left hand holding the rifle; to ensure accuracy when firing, I needed to grip the gun tightly; otherwise, the bullets would stray off course.
The light from the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight suddenly illuminated the ceiling, which was high above me, and I could see that there were no stalactites hanging overhead. At the same time, I did not spot any giant bats.
Having seen a giant bat with my own eyes and observed it closely, I knew how to distinguish it among the jagged stalactites on the ceiling, especially since this section of the ceiling was quite open.
The muzzle of my AK-47 followed the beam of the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight as it slowly moved. Soon, a half-broken stalactite came into view. I glanced at it, but the muzzle did not stop; instead, it continued to scan in a sweeping manner, expanding outward in search.
Although the ceiling was high, under the illumination of the One-Eyed Beast, everything was laid bare before me. Numerous broken stalactites were densely packed on the ceiling, some still dripping water, while intact stalactites were rare. Most of them were grayish-brown, with their broken surfaces appearing even grayer.
I did not shake the flashlight quickly or widen the beam of the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight. While doing so might allow for a faster search of the surroundings, it would be unhelpful in actually finding those bats. They had strong light-absorbing properties and were difficult to spot without careful observation.
As the flashlight moved past the stalactites hanging down from the ceiling, my vision was filled with shades of gray and grayish-brown. I kept ignoring these colors; what I was looking for was black.
Suddenly, I felt a chill run down my spine.
When the light from the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight swept across a patch of gray, an unsettling and maddening feeling of being watched suddenly washed over me.
I quickly moved both the muzzle and flashlight back. Among the grayness, two eyes glowing red like teacups stared at me unblinkingly from a broken stalactite as if embedded within it.
These were blood-red eyes, and their glow was also crimson, resembling two light bulbs hidden within pools of blood, with the color reflecting through their light.
Of course, eyes do not grow on stalactites.
Even without enlarging the beam of the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight, when it shone on the ceiling, its beam extended at least five meters. Moreover, at this distance, the white light from the One-Eyed Beast remained focused and clear enough to illuminate around those blood-red eyes distinctly.
Those blood-red eyes rested on a broken stalactite; on its grayish-brown surface was an outline of a light gray object. This light gray object blended so closely with the color of the stalactite that I could hardly discern it without careful observation; I had not noticed its presence until now.
However, at this moment, I could only make out an outline; I could not see clearly enough to determine what it was. But I could be certain that it was not a bat; based on its color and approximate shape, I was sure of that.
The red eyes glowed like two blood-colored bulbs; they never blinked. Yet I knew they were eyes—I could sense a cold hostility emanating from them.
The confrontation with those blood-red eyes did not last long. It seemed to be unusually angry and uncomfortable under the bright light of my One-Eyed Beast Flashlight. The grayish creature shifted slightly, and I first noticed something emerging from behind the Stalactite—a half-roasted, golden-brown Bat.
The golden-yellow Roasted Bat was the second most striking color under the light of the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight, following the Crimson Eyes. Moreover, it was much larger than the Crimson Eyes. As soon as the Roasted Bat appeared, it caught my attention, and its form gradually became clearer before my eyes.
If the Giant Bat was a devil, then this creature was a demon. Had we arrived in hell?
This thing was much larger than the Giant Bat and had no wings, at least from my angle, I couldn't see any. Yet it could cling to the Stalactite on the Ceiling.
Its limbs were long; its initial posture must have been to wrap around a Stalactite because it clung tightly to it. The colors of both were so similar that I initially failed to discern its shape.
Now, one of its forelimbs emerged from behind the Stalactite, claws gripping that half Roasted Bat.
Seeing that claw holding the Roasted Bat made my heart sink. (To Be Continued...)
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