4- The
Monster
“Miserable jerk!” She lashed out her inhumanely long,
gory tongue at me, which I calmly grabbed it using my left hand and tugged on
it hard, nearly tearing it apart. I could hear an eerily sorrowful scream. I
placed my left leg a feet behind and bended my knees a little to firm my rather
wobbly stance. Her eyes emitted a crimson spark, as if reacting to my already
polluted conscience. I narrowed my eyesight down to the two blinking lights at
eye-level; those malevolent eyes were without purity, as if its stare could
penetrate into my heart. Yet, deep down I felt continuously strangled by
invisible chains, and I may fall anytime. I charged forward and tried to rip
the figure apart with my bare hands, but she retreated from my sight, only to
reform right behind me. She placed her wrinkle-overloaded palm on my left
shoulder, but before her mouth could even unleash a word, I swiftly retracted
my leg and shot it backwards, which contained enough force to push her away for
a moment.
“No more explanations.” Following what I said was a
nightmarish, malicious laugh. She was so full of confidence, somehow reflecting
my own personality, my insanity. I turned around but lost track of her,
eventually even my own directions became distorted, and soon I found myself stranded
in the middle of a pitch black hell with a witch trying to annihilate me. The
place was just a horrifying sight of pure darkness, and the only source of
light was that of her maliciously scintillating eyes. I could no longer focus,
so without hesitation, I rammed my fifty kilograms of bones and meat towards…
somewhere. But without doubt, I did not feel any signs of hitting the target,
nor do I feel perfectly normal. I felt stupid, idiotically brainless. Even in a pitch black environment, I could
feel my vision starting to blur, and I might pass out anytime.
She appeared right in front of my half-blinded pair of
eyes, about a ruler’s length away. I was terribly horrified, as her appalling looks
could vanquish any soul. She moaned, as if someone was literally doing it on
her. I took the golden opportunity to step back and watch in horror as a
slightly tinted male figure appeared right behind those eyes, and soon an
ear-piercing thump sound was formulated. Her moan grew in magnitude as my heart
started to sob silently, hoping for my torture to come to a halt.
“Ah… you fool! Join me… ah… and your sufferings will…
ahh… end…” I could roughly sketch out her moaning witch face, but she seemed to
be indulging herself in her temptation for lust. So I carefully walked around
her to examine the “perverted” figure. But he lashed at me, resulting in me
being forced to handle the excruciating pain which stemmed from my face.
Bizarrely unnerving face it had, its
eyes were swinging vibrantly from the grey lips. Indigo body it had, stains of
magenta blood-esque liquid were present. Only the strongest and most willful mortals
could still stand after just taking a glimpse of it. It let out a faint roar
from its wild, edged fangs. It had like, twenty of them.
I just could not resist staring at the
intriguing figure. It was a mere solitary stranger, and yet the savagely brutalized me felt otherwise. A monster it was not. A demon it was also not. But
I lacked the very important confidence and willpower to continue thinking.
Never wishing to be treated as a weakling, I, without hesitation consumed the all-powerful
adrenaline rushing in my seemingly malfunctioned blood veins to stand up. The
action was without doubt, the most despicably embarrassing thing a person could
ever be proud of, but for someone as frail as me, it was the achievement of a
lifetime.
The figure was with utmost cruelty. It
contained a long sabre sticking out from its rather gruesome piece of so-called
arms. It wailed. Such sorrow was felt. A tinge of mercy was described through
its haphazard actions, yet it seemed unwilling. It seemed all too familiar to
my eyes. I screamed at the figure, but my words were beyond comprehensibility
of his mind.
I took two steps forward, while the
figure remained silent. Each step was executed with dark red blood squirting
out from my severely wounded face. I didn’t make it. Just one step and I fell
hard again. The figure seemingly had a sign of pity towards me, as if I was
someone it knew for a far too long period of time.
My mind was resilient. I did not want
to die. I lifted my head up just to catch a rather blurry look of the figure. All
too similar to someone I knew…
Just at that very moment, what I saw
confirmed my bewildered suspicions. Dark brown hair shone through the darkness.
And before we knew it, we were staring and examining at each other, seemingly being able to relate to each other.
At that moment I instantly knew it was-
***
“My dear Shadow~ we’ve reached our destination!”
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