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墨書 Inktalez
Jonas's footsteps echoed in the dim cave, his body tense and his heart pounding heavily. Everything around him was eerily quiet, the air thick with a suffocating sense of foreboding, as if the entire world had fallen into a silent stillness at that moment. Aside from the occasional drip of viscous liquid, there were no other sounds to be heard.
Under normal circumstances, he should have been able to hear the voices of the mercenaries stationed nearby or those of Alison and Samuel. But now, there was only an oppressive silence, as if even the wind dared not blow through this area.
Jonas gripped his rifle tightly; the weight of the stock in his palm provided some comfort but did little to ease his inner tension. Each step felt heavy as he slowly approached the light source of the outpost, his breathing becoming increasingly rapid, his mind racing with the worst possibilities.
"What if...?" A wave of intense unease washed over Jonas, but he refused to dwell on it any longer, silently praying that things hadn't escalated to the worst outcome.
The beam of his flashlight gently swept ahead, and as he drew closer to the outpost, more ominous signs began to appear on the ground—black stains, scattered weapons, and even a slick trail of blood. Jonas's heartbeat quickened, and his breath became shallow. He felt a chill creeping up his spine, causing him to shudder involuntarily.
He halted, aiming his rifle at the shadows ahead, every nerve in his body taut with tension. The outpost was faintly visible not far away, its lights flickering as if on the verge of collapse. Yet even so, there was not a single sound coming from within—no chatter, no footsteps, not even the whisper of wind seemed to exist.
Jonas pressed his lips together tightly and cautiously moved forward, taking light steps as if afraid to disturb something lurking in the shadows. He repeatedly told himself to stay calm and not panic. But that ominous premonition grew stronger, tightening every muscle in his body into a hard stone.
Finally, Jonas reached the edge of the outpost. He held his breath, aiming his rifle at one corner inside, ready to respond to any potential threat.
"Please don't let anything be wrong..." he silently prayed in his mind, his finger lightly resting on the trigger as his entire body entered a state of alert.
Next, he needed to uncover what this eerie silence was hiding—and perhaps the answer would be more terrifying than he could ever imagine.
Taking a deep breath, Jonas's fingers tightened around the doorknob as he prayed that what he was about to see wasn’t the worst-case scenario. However, when he pushed open the door to the outpost, the sight before him nearly took his breath away.
The ground was littered with corpses; shattered limbs and blood were strewn everywhere. The hellish scene inside the outpost froze him in place, leaving his mind blank. The first thing that caught his eye was Alison's lifeless body. Her once delicate face was now unrecognizable—mangled and bloodied beyond belief, her bones deeply sunken; it was impossible to discern her appearance in life. Jonas fought against the rising bile in his stomach as cold sweat trickled down from his forehead.
His gaze fell upon Samuel's corpse. Samuel's body showed clear signs of mutation; his skin was torn apart, and his limbs twisted grotesquely, evidently ravaged by the Black Worm. It looked as if some terrifying force had ripped through him, his mouth agape as if he had let out a silent scream in his final moments.
Jonas moved forward with heavy steps, gripping his rifle tightly, yet a sharp pain and sense of helplessness surged within him. This should not have happened... but now, these people were dead. They had once fought side by side, and now they lay silently on the ground, remnants of a bizarre scene.
He scanned the area again, noticing several scattered mercenary corpses. One soldier was missing his head; only torn flesh and bone remained at the neck, with shattered skull fragments floating in a pool of blood. The sight of that soldier's death was horrifying, as if he had suffered a fatal attack while completely defenseless.
However, Raymond—his former comrade—was not among them.
Jonas's heart raced suddenly, amplifying his unease. The bodies strewn across the ground testified to a brutal massacre that had taken place here, yet Raymond was nowhere to be found. What did this mean? He dared not think further, but the fear within him spread like a shadow.
"Raymond..." Jonas murmured softly, his hands trembling slightly. He began to realize a terrifying possibility—Raymond might no longer be the loyal comrade he remembered.
As Jonas recalled Raymond's increasingly strange behavior from before, his heart turned cold. Memories flooded his mind: Raymond's moments of weakness and bouts of rage. Whether it was emotional fluctuations or sudden outbursts of anger, they all reminded him of the Black Worm's influence.
He couldn't help but gasp, cold sweat trickling down his spine, soaking through his collar.
"Raymond..." Jonas's throat felt dry; he could barely make a sound.
Regardless, this was not the time for hesitation. Jonas tightened his grip on the rifle, feeling the cold stock against his palm. He knew that what lay ahead might be an even harsher battle, and this time the enemy would be a former ally. The only thing he could do was remain calm and ensure he survived to bring back the secrets of this place to the real world.
Jonas cautiously moved forward, his footsteps nearly silent. He slowly navigated through the sea of corpses, sweat continuously dripping from his forehead and soaking his brows. With each step he took, his heart felt as if it would leap from his chest. The horrifying sight of these dead bodies seemed to silently narrate the unimaginable violence that had occurred here; he tried to find any clues—be it a drop of blood or a trace of Raymond.
However, just as he crouched down to examine some marks on the ground, an undeniable gaze pierced through him from behind. That chilling sensation instantly crawled up his spine. His hair stood on end as his heartbeat quickened dramatically.
Jonas immediately reacted, spinning around and quickly aiming his rifle at the ceiling behind him.
His gaze caught a terrifying sight—Raymond.
Raymond was no longer the person he once knew. His body had undergone a complete transformation; his limbs were twisted and deformed, his skin covered in black patterns and tiny tendrils, exuding a nauseating stench. His chest was open, the bones grotesquely reshaped into long, bony appendages that clung to the corners of the walls like a spider, instilling fear. The tips of those appendages were sharp as knives, deeply embedded in the wall, supporting his weight as he hung there like a beast prowling around its prey.
Jonas felt as if his throat was blocked, unable to produce even a whisper. The gun in his hand trembled, cold sweat trickling down his forehead into his eyes, blurring his vision. But what chilled him to the bone was Raymond's head—his face showed almost no signs of mutation. Raymond's eyes remained those familiar ones, filled with pain and struggle. His lips quivered as if he wanted to say something, but all words were stuck in his throat, ultimately manifesting only as a low, guttural growl.
"Raymond...?" Jonas could hardly believe what he was seeing.
Raymond's head tilted slightly, and there seemed to be a flicker of humanity left in his eyes, but that mutated body was no longer human. His chest heaved rhythmically, those bony appendages crawling on the wall like living creatures, ready to pounce on Jonas at any moment.
In an instant, Jonas felt a wave of utter despair and terror wash over him. He knew that the monster before him was no longer his comrade. He couldn't believe that the brave and loyal Raymond had now become this—a host for the Black Worm.
The frantic beating of his heart intertwined with the nauseating sounds of the mutated creature's slight movements behind him, tightening Jonas's nerves further. He realized he had only one choice left—to pull the trigger and put an end to this monster.
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