Chương 78: CHAPTER 77 – Buried Horror

A red drop slid across the ice, mingling with condensation and becoming a faint thread of the vitality it had once carried. Another followed, same fate. Now traces of drool dripped to the ground, accompanied by wet coughing fits. One of the remnants of that anguished breath landed on David's face, soiling his cheek. The man smiled, drawing closer to the boy, impaled at the hips and legs by spikes of ice as wide as the pipes in the leaves. Frost wrapped the gushing blood, forming a reddish film.

Choked noises tried to force their way through the crimson foam pooling in his throat, to no avail. With every step, a new needle drove into the boy's flesh, first in the loins, then in the calves.

"Trying to commit suicide during a fight is truly strange…" David murmured, staring at Jeanne and Maliard, anchored to the rocks and still unable to move. With his baton clenched between his fingers, Maliard braced himself on the ledge, gazing at his companion, drenched in sweat.

"Why… did you do it?" Jeanne pointed at the weapon in the boy's arms, nearly shattered and completely fused with his skin into a dark blend. Lance's arm had become slender and thin, perhaps even longer than normal. Moments after the clash, Lance had managed to sink his teeth into David's face, tearing away the flesh and then severing his arm. In that brief exchange, though pierced by ice, he had been able to aim his relic. The violet glow was about to pierce David's face, but something stopped him.

"NO!" Lance had shouted, pointing the beam straight into his own chest under the disturbed gaze of those present. Lachesi activated a moment later. Blinding light, then a horrid, lacerating scream, far from any human vocalisation. Lance convulsed, screaming and clutching the smoking flesh, spurting blood and black liquid. He lost his balance, trying to stay on his feet.

"You filthy bastard! Filthy brat corrupted by altruism!" Lance struck himself full in the face with his knuckles, a loud crack echoing. It was in that moment that David resumed the battle, impaling him and letting the rocks devour the platform. Now Jeanne watched helplessly as violence unfolded before her eyes: David approached him, squeezing his fingers against Lance's throat, intensifying with every superfluous breath.

"You must have wondered why I am the leader and not Mr. Van Jir. After all, you're about to die, so I'll grant you the hearing of some words." David lifted him high, stretching all the spines, tearing the flesh further.

"He is a soldier, and I am an artist. His ambitions are far from the masterpiece I wish to create with our ranks." Behind him, a luminous mist branched out, spreading rapidly. Images began to dance among the dust and distorted air. A natural tableau, almost idyllic, illuminated by the green of hills, broken by faint snowfall on mighty oaks. Intermittent, interspersed with robins' songs, the impact of an axe on wood.

Lance's eyes adjusted to the new colours, allowing him to make out the figure wielding the sharp tool.

"Do you understand?" David smiled as the silhouette threw the axe aside, running toward a smaller figure dressed in a red jacket. The man took the child in his arms, never showing his own face. His steps dug into the snow as he twirled under the morning snowfall. David turned to the boy, staring at him with a tear sliding down his cheek.

"I desire to paint a world far from war and the clamour of machines. A place where everything of nature can find its space alongside humanity, including us Meta. To do this, I must allow that demon to erase everything. Only then can I have a white canvas on which to spread the colour of this dream." David drew close to Lance, staring straight into his golden eyes, tainted by the red of blood running from his forehead.

"For this I will kill you and ensure that your core reaches the Client safe and sound." Silence, and his sight turned red, blocked by blood and saliva. Lance stared at him, laden with hatred, foaming with every jerk.

"Perhaps I must make you better understand the situation you're in…" The shards snapped, making him collapse onto his knees. He trembled, in pain, as the black mixed with blood burrowed into his flesh, replacing it with newer, paler pieces.

"Before you regenerate, I will sever both your arms and then your legs." Before he could spit out everything that soiled his tongue, a blade of rock slowly dug into Lance's shoulder. A flash of pain opened his mind, making him shriek and spasm. David raised his hand in silence, aiming at the boy's right shoulder. Above his head, a portal opened, vomiting algae and swamp water over him. An instant later, the tip of a second sword emerged.

"You weren't bad… I hope I can bargain for you." Once it reached its peak, the hand tried to crash down. Bang A spark of fire pierced David's palm, leaving a searing hole in its wake. David stared at it for a few moments, turning with a smile. Barely standing, her legs in spasms, Jeanne stared at him, panting. Her sweet lips were pale and stained with blood. A few moments later she collapsed onto the rock, clutching her chest with enough force to tear the few clothes remaining on her.

"ARE YOU MAD?!" Maliard immediately laid her head on his knees while David watched them. The wound was only a recent memory, buried under the beneficent ice. He turned toward Lance, perhaps still conscious, and pointed at the two.

"Perhaps your attention will return to its peak without distractions." David stretched his hand toward Lance's companions, and the earth immediately obeyed, anchoring them by the feet. Maliard tried to strike the blocks, suffering the repercussions of his constant clashes. He coughed blood and slid into his prison, barely able to crouch.

"From this distance, is one blade enough to pierce the heart? Let's see." Snow and ice condensed between his fingers, elongating and sharpening ever more, until they formed a thin lance of blue frost. Lance stared at it with bloodshot eyes, whining and weeping as he tried to pull that rock from his flesh. Jeanne stared at the ice aimed at her and instinctively tried to recoil, covering her chest. A tear slid down her cheeks, falling and wetting the rock.

"Disappear." Blood, a red mist, mute screams, darkness at the edges of sight. David, Jeanne, and Maliard stared pale as Lance's heart was torn apart and flung from his chest. What froze the blood of those present, however, were the black shards that slid out of the wound, wrapped in the red fountain.

"The core…" Maliard murmured, now free to kneel with a face so pale it seemed ready for the shroud. Jeanne brought her hands to her mouth, weeping and stepping back amid sobs and murmured denials. Lance fell to the ground before David, fracturing the remains of ice in his flesh. Just to parry that single blow, his arm had been torn away purely by willpower, sliding along the rock blade.

"Run… Please… Go." Between breaths and the sound of blood draining from his body, Lance gave the two one last look, closing his eyes definitively and beginning to be wrapped in a dark mist. Maliard stared at David with hatred, gripping his chain with such force that his palms split, yet that man seemed paler than them. Pale not from pain, but from fear. In his mind, a memory surfaced, something his subconscious had labelled as obvious, but which now was forcibly digging through the walls of his mind.

It had happened a few days before the assault, perhaps underground or in some remote military warehouse. Mould thrives in both, after all. He and Malcom had been summoned by their client to discuss the agreements and the plan, in the total secrecy stipulated. David looked around, walking down the dark corridor pervaded by a cold, grim air. The hiss of the current caressed his ears, covered by his long hat. His footsteps echoed in the silence, gradually becoming less noisy and ever more deafening.

Now and then he stepped on something stiff and rough, perhaps roots, though it was hard to distinguish them from a body. At a certain point, a beam of bluish light irradiated the room he had entered. The circular complex lit up blue, revealing the dirty walls worn by subterranean wood.

"Greetings, David… We await the lady." Atop a pillar in the centre of the hall lay Malcolm Van Jir, intent on sipping a dark, steaming concoction. He took a sip of the liquid, licking his lips, damp with the fluid. No matter how close he was to the light, his body accepted no illumination. David stared at him, smiling, bowing, and snapping his fingers. From beneath him, a grey portal birthed a train of rock and ice, escorting him into his seat.

"Would you like a seat?" He asked, as the bowl in Malcolm's hands began to corrupt and crumble, returning to nothingness. He shook his head, pointing at the pillar. David nodded, adjusting his shoulders and crossing his hands.

"What joy to see you already here." A chill breeze shook both their necks, even distorting the column of light at the centre. Silent as a shadow, dressed as one, and graceful as a butterfly, a woman made her appearance. Her garment of dense black fluttered at her hips, covering them entirely. The trinkets at her neck and shoulders accompanied her faint, at times sibilant breath. Her dark heels rarely emerged at her step, revealing white skin.

The only upper part exposed was her shoulders, from which long, tight embroidered sleeves attached. Her face was covered by a veil of the same darkness as her dress, not a single trace of colour, only void and night. David and Malcom rose, bowing slightly. A delicate laugh escaped the mantle that covered her face, and she politely spread a long greyish handkerchief, embroidered with terribly realistic hawthorns, over a concrete block. She sat, shifting her legs under her skirt to cross them.

She removed her gloves, revealing skeletal hands close to death.

"You know why you are here, so I consider it foolish to delay." A cough stirred in her chest, making the silver necklace hidden beneath the fabric ring. She took a breath and turned her head toward the two.

"Your abilities are masterful. However, it pains me to say that even you would perish if you encountered that thing. The ritual cannot take hold if even a single step is sullied." Malcom raised his head, staring straight into her obscured face. A faint smile crossed that expressionless visage, vanishing quickly.

"Are you referring to Lance Klint's relic? Even if he should awaken it fully, he could not match either Malcolm or me. Both of us are chosen by the Omen." The woman laughed, waving her fingers and shrugging her shoulders. Malcom and David stared at her in silence, exchanging a glance.

"You think the relic belongs to the boy alone? Lance Klint is nothing but a shell. What should frighten you lies beneath." The lady rose to her feet, sliding her hand into her bosom. A metallic creak accompanied the gesture. A moment later she pulled out a shining sphere, divided into three sections: one light, one greyish, and one completely dark.

"The core of that boy is something akin to this globe. It is held together by a weak bond that unites the various frequencies within it. If something should tamper with the already precarious nature of his existence, she would come here." The globe slipped from her hands, fracturing at her feet into a cascade of crystals. David swallowed for the first time, seeing Malcom move his fingers instead of sitting completely still as usual. A dark gleam crossed his eyes as he pinched the uniform on his knee.

"Who is she?" David rose from his chair, letting it crumble. He moved toward her, staring with a pale face. The lady tilted her head, lifting her veil to reveal a diabolical, feral smile. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"The end of a distant world, all that remains of the hope of my era. Simply, the manifestation of cruelty. The omen of the end, Terminus. She reached that stage before you both." The memory dissipated completely, and now David looked around, focusing on the familiar red, his rocks, and his body. Everything had remained unchanged except for Lance Klint's companions, whose terrified gaze was fixed on something nearby.

"What?" He whispered, now registering in his field of vision the cocoon of pure crimson before him. It dripped blood and slime and was supported by the boy's legs, perhaps longer and leaner than before. Through the gashes in the fabric, the skin seemed ever whiter, truly reminiscent of a corpse. The red surface gurgled, and at times the bubbles formed screaming faces. Though that might only have been a detail of paranoia. David tried to attack it, but as soon as he lunged at that mass, his blade vanished.

Slowly, all traces of his ability disappeared from the hall, letting Jeanne and Maliard slide to the ground. The ice on the floor grew thin, until it vanished entirely. Meanwhile, the cocoon swelled and seethed, thrashing.

"Jeanne… Let's flee." Maliard took her hand, rousing her from her trance. Tears slipped from her eyes, sliding down her chin and ending their fall on her chest and the cement. She offered a little resistance, forcing Maliard to tug her at times, when suddenly everything fell silent. Their senses were invaded by a sensation of pure sliminess. Nausea froze them, as if their instincts had compelled their bodies to resign themselves to the looming threat.

For David it was no different; indeed, he was increasingly drawn toward that bloody chrysalis. Suddenly, a monstrous scream echoed through the entire facility, tearing through the barriers of space and the unknown to unleash hatred and terror everywhere. In that space hidden from the world, built with powers external to reality, all who breathed within it were forced to witness the horror born of madness and its disgusting presence. The cocoon exploded, scattering spurts of blood everywhere.

Slowly the liquid evaporated, wrapping everything in a thin reddish mist with a faint metallic odour. The room's light flickered, leaving only the red of the alarm. But the most unusual thing was the cruel content of that diabolical fruit. David stared at it, immobilised and trembling. Reflected now in his eyes was the creature that bloomed from that chrysalis of blood and tar, dense and black. A tall, slender woman, all her muscles still toned.

Stretching out her arms, she revealed her naked breasts, ruined by thick, dark scars in stark contrast with her deathly white skin. Her thin, sharp nose lent even more cruelty to that cutting face, yet one simultaneously pervaded by a morbid voluptuousness. The blood settled on her hips and chest, girding them in a drape of blood-red wine. Beneath her thick lashes, her eyes opened slowly, in perfect synchrony with her red, vital lips. A silvery laugh escaped that infernal mouth, echoing through the room.

A gleam more beautiful than ripe black cherries awakened those eyes, now taking part in that atrocious grin. The light resumed working, illuminating her glistening canines and her lips moistened by a burning tongue.

"After years… I smell blood again." Her very long white hair settled on her shoulders as she tossed her head forward. She stared at her wrists, smiling morbidly. She sank her canines into her own veins, tearing away the flesh and pouring all the liquid over her face. A damp mist rose from her lips, tight with pleasure. Her fingers slid over her white skin, crossing the neckline and reaching straight to the navel. David took a step back, arousing her immediate attention.

The woman glided behind him, grabbing him by the nape and bringing her teeth close to his ear.

"Are you the one who freed me? I thank you so very much! I cannot tell you how tiresome it was to stay in there." Her fingers wrapped around his throat, pricking the skin with her black nails. David swallowed, feeling the pressure grow ever more intense. He tried to stretch his hand toward the sword hilt, but her sigh stopped him.

"However, it is also true that you wounded me…" David's stomach was pierced through, her hand emerging wrapped in blood. He tried to turn and strike her, freezing everything behind him, but that thing had vanished.

"Immature as usual." His body shot away, hurled and torn into the other room. The woman flicked the blood to the ground, placing her hands on her hips and laughing with the same silvery, ringing tone.

"Everything is so beautiful! This world is full of lives to shatter and dreams to break! At last I'll have enough time to bring him back here…" She stroked her abdomen, smiling, adjusting the rags that once belonged to Lance. Maliard stared at her in silence, gripping the chain in his hands. His strength was failing, and every attempt to hold it properly resulted in an annoying clinking and various coughing fits. The woman turned toward him, smiling with her canines showing.

Maliard tried to straighten his back, only to find himself overshadowed and wrapped in a scent as sweet as it was metallic.

"Maliard Turner… So you were like this when you were young." Their eyes met, and he felt weak. The crimson of her pupils was probing his soul, digging into his consciousness. He swallowed, clenching his teeth to stop their frantic chattering.

"My other little brother holds you in high regard! To him, you are truly a friend." She caressed his cheek with her greasy, sharp fingers, leaving a trail of blood on his pale skin. Her voice was like a melody in his head, so beautiful that his senses melted.

"What are you…" He murmured, lowering his chin to escape that towering figure. The woman smiled, letting out a cruel, ringing laugh. The grip on his shoulder grew rawer and more violent, almost bestial.

"I am she who exists beyond hope, I am the boundary of life…" Unable to resist, Maliard was pushed to the ground, with her seated directly on his stomach, docilely leaning toward his neck. She reached his ear, showing her canines and sharp tongue ever more.

"I am Cruelty made flesh." That whisper extinguished any will Maliard had to act, freezing him in a state of complete resignation. Had it not been for a moan of pain, she would have devoured him. He was certain. The woman sprang up, rotating her neck with inhuman speed. Jeanne was trying to walk, dragging the frame for herself, decorating what remained of the floor with a bloody stripe.

"You still live?" She snarled, such disappointment in those words that Jeanne halted in her tracks. The girl stared at her in silence, trying to lift the weapon from the ground, but the spasms would not allow it.

"The boy holds so many emotions toward you, so many that even I cannot verify their nature." In a flash, her nails tightened around Jeanne's throat, lifting her from the ground. Jeanne flailed her legs, digging her fingers into the woman's wrist, barely managing to shift the skin. She smiled, stretching her other hand toward Jeanne's abdomen.

"Perhaps it's because you're similar to a woman that you attract him? An unsatisfied biological need is what drives the boy to thrash so much for a being like you?" The nail pressed harder against the skin, making a rivulet of dense blood gush. A moan escaped the girl's lips, and she resumed thrashing and kicking. The woman smiled, tightening her grip on the throat and then running her finger down to the centre of the chest, leaving a bloody trail behind.

"Your body is pure voluptuousness, a cage to imprison pleasure. Whoever must have birthed you must have been truly satisfied…" She pricked her chest, slowly rotating her finger at regular intervals. The girl's face flushed, and tears and moans immediately followed.

"But I have understood what you are deep down." She violently pierced Jeanne's breast, letting the entire room fill with her screams. The blood turned various colours, each with its own representation. Tongues of fire, chains of ice, sabres of iron, greenish creepers emerged from the girl's abdomen and chest. The woman smiled, tightening her grip further until the girl's face turned cyanotic.

"You are like me? The incarnation of perversion! An entity that should never have manifested." The colours of Jeanne's eyes began to change: the sclera became dark, the iris red, and the pupil vermilion. The woman laughed, continuing to squeeze and prick her with her sharp nail.

"YOU ARE AN INSULT TO ALL LIFE ON THIS EARTH!" From afar, a splinter of ice embedded itself in the woman's chest, stunning her for an instant. She released Jeanne, who slid to the ground, trembling frantically and drooling. She turned, staring at the man wrapped in armour of rock and ice. The hat had repaired itself with strands of slimy algae, and his smile had strengthened. The perforated abdomen now showed itself muscular and vigorous. David stared at her, raising his hand toward the ceiling.

Greyish portals and distortions opened, causing gigantic limbs of white rock to emerge. In his hands, a blue, luminous blade of pure vibrating frost appeared.

"Perhaps in this world something happened that turned you from microbe to inept? Magnificent…" The ghastly woman smiled, instantly regenerating her tissues and turning. The blood gathered on her hands hardened, forming two very long, sharp nails for each hand, of a blazing crimson.

"You are an obstacle to my dream… I do not care whether you are the devil or cruelty itself. I will cut you down here and now and use your body for my masterpiece!!!" David lunged at her, clashing blade and nails together. The woman stared at him, smiling faintly, applying a little force with her hand. David was immediately knocked back, forced to react to the assault. She appeared from below, aiming straight for the heart. The armour defended him, allowing him to guide the portal limb toward her.

The ground fractured, but of her not even a shadow.

"Above!" The limb of white rock was pierced by her claws, which immediately shredded it, causing a rain of pristine cubes. Their eyes met in the dust, and sparks immediately followed. Throughout the room, her laughter crossed the air as David's sword slowly fractured.

"Verkleidung." The blood on her arms stiffened, stretching into a thin, long, curved blade. David's sharp ice shattered on the ground, and his face began to bleed, lacerated right on the bridge of his nose. The woman smiled before being wrapped in darkness.

"Gotcha." David clapped his hands, trapping his adversary between the gigantic rocky palms whirling in the air. With violence, David raised them, tensing them above his head. The shadow veiled his entire body, leaving only his white smile visible.

"Just die!" The limbs snapped down, hurling her against the wall with a deafening impact. Without even waiting for the dust cloud to dissipate or the debris to settle, a massive block of ice hurled itself at her, followed by another and yet another. The hail continued for several minutes, until the red-painted wall was reduced to complete powder. David took a breath, immediately interrupted by a lance of blood embedding itself in his leg.

A reddish spurt emerged from the rock, sliding along the blade of the same material. His pupils dilated at the sight of her, completely unharmed and with her arm covered in a dark, at times malevolent armour.

"Not bad…" She licked her lips, making the blood and ice vanish. She took small steps, drawing ever closer to him. David once again manifested the blade, while his hands were positioned at his shoulders, like guards.

"But now I will show you the abyss that separates us." A black light emerged from her palm and stretched toward him. The whole atmosphere became dark and hostile, and a long black filament coloured the skin of her arm. It extended over her abdomen, taking the shape of bones intertwined with one another, and finally found its place in her chest, becoming a skull devoured by long dark tentacles. David lost his sense of self for a second, snapping backward.

"Hakmes…" The same blade that had reaped the arms of Lance and Maliard now claimed the flesh of one of its master's companions. Maliard, recovered, watched the scene completely paralysed. The woman's lips curled into a grimace, perhaps of utter disappointment.

"It seems this body has completely forgotten everything it has endured…" A dense web of scars appeared on her body, burrowing into her flesh; the largest one manifested in the neckline of her breasts, branching up to her neck. David placed his hand on his lacerated shoulder, slowly regenerating it." The omen? But it's not like Malcolm's. The frequency is only partially altered, but it's almost identical to his Verstoring … What the hell am I facing?" David's blood froze, and the skin began to cover bone and muscle.

He smiled, staring intently at her sharp, cruel face, contorted into a grin.

"I will have to draw on everything I have to kill her… Damned furious beast!" The woman spun around sharply toward him, smiling and pointing a finger to her lips. David aimed his blade at her neck.

"What is the name of the entity I am facing?" The tip of the blade gleamed, raised and aimed at his rival. The woman smiled, clicking her lips to speak, then immediately stopped to chuckle.

"My old name does not suit this place…" Her hands became red and black claws, and the drape covering her hips and breasts tightened until it covered only her chest, revealing an abdomen laden with scars and gashes.

"I am Eve." Along with that name came a baleful aura, laden with the echoes of past screams. David stilled the tremors in his hands, smiling and expanding his portals, as she approached, silent and radiant with cruelty.