Michael gritted his teeth and sped up. He couldn't let Angie be brutally sacrificed like the people who were torn to pieces in the basement. He heard a commotion behind him. The men, who had discovered the disaster in the basement, were belatedly coming toward him with torches in their hands.
Thunder roared loudly in the gloomy, gray sky. In the distance, the makeshift outpost collapsed and the workers' terrible screams began to echo. The tin cans that had been lit to warm up the cold fell over, and the flames shot up into the trees. Blood spurted out and an axe flew right at his feet. It seemed that someone had thrown it to avoid the sudden attack of 'it', but it missed.
Michael watched the slaughter of 'it' without moving an inch. His body was paralyzed with fear. But his survival instinct finally pulled him away.
He bent down and picked up the axe that had fallen to his feet. Then, as quietly as possible, he approached the back of the thing that was biting the worker by the neck. That was when he heard the sound of wet branches being trampled underfoot.
“Ugh- Satan, get behind me! You monster!”
The man swung the torch he was holding in one hand at the 'it's' face just before its neck snapped. But 'it' was a little faster. With a crack, the poor man fell to the ground.
Thunder roared loudly in the gloomy, gray sky. In the distance, the makeshift outpost collapsed and the workers' terrible screams began to echo. The tin cans that had been lit to warm up the cold fell over, and the flames shot up into the trees. Blood spurted out and an axe flew right at his feet. It seemed that someone had thrown it to avoid the sudden attack of 'it', but it missed.
Michael watched the slaughter of 'it' without moving an inch. His body was paralyzed with fear. But his survival instinct finally pulled him away.
He bent down and picked up the axe that had fallen to his feet. Then, as quietly as possible, he approached the back of the thing that was biting the worker by the neck. That was when he heard the sound of wet branches being trampled underfoot.
“Ugh- Satan, get behind me! You monster!”
The man swung the torch he was holding in one hand at the 'it's' face just before its neck snapped. But 'it' was a little faster. With a crack, the poor man fell to the ground.
Kwaaah-
'It' grabbed its burning face and shook its head violently.
There would be no danger to its life. Mrs. Dunst said that 'it' was immortal. If you shot it with a gun, the bullet would pierce the center of its heart, but it would immediately come back to life. If you cut off its limbs with a knife, they would reattach themselves immediately. Even if you tried to cut off its head, it would reattach itself to its torso within a few minutes.
He heard that if you burn them alive with fire, they will only suffer terrible burns, but they will still be alive. It was also said that even if you drive a stake into their heart without using a cross, silver, holy objects, or holy water, it will be of no use.
So, they would have put it alive in an oak barrel and tried to sink it deep in the sea. They would have waited until a thunderous day or rough seas made it possible for it to be swept far away and buried, in case the 'its' strange noises would leak out.
Michael looked at 'it', its head engulfed in flames, writhing in agony. It was repeatedly letting out a terrifying roar that could only be heard in hell.
Suddenly, he wondered. Was 'it' just a moving corpse without a soul or consciousness? Was the past glorious glory and happy moments completely absent from his mind? At that moment, a faint ray of sympathy began to seep into Michael, but he tried hard to shake it off.
There is no need to pity him. It is a tragedy he brought upon himself. It is simply the result of him giving up being human and daring to step into the realm of the Gods.
Michael gripped the axe handle tightly with both hands.
There would be no danger to its life. Mrs. Dunst said that 'it' was immortal. If you shot it with a gun, the bullet would pierce the center of its heart, but it would immediately come back to life. If you cut off its limbs with a knife, they would reattach themselves immediately. Even if you tried to cut off its head, it would reattach itself to its torso within a few minutes.
He heard that if you burn them alive with fire, they will only suffer terrible burns, but they will still be alive. It was also said that even if you drive a stake into their heart without using a cross, silver, holy objects, or holy water, it will be of no use.
So, they would have put it alive in an oak barrel and tried to sink it deep in the sea. They would have waited until a thunderous day or rough seas made it possible for it to be swept far away and buried, in case the 'its' strange noises would leak out.
Michael looked at 'it', its head engulfed in flames, writhing in agony. It was repeatedly letting out a terrifying roar that could only be heard in hell.
Suddenly, he wondered. Was 'it' just a moving corpse without a soul or consciousness? Was the past glorious glory and happy moments completely absent from his mind? At that moment, a faint ray of sympathy began to seep into Michael, but he tried hard to shake it off.
There is no need to pity him. It is a tragedy he brought upon himself. It is simply the result of him giving up being human and daring to step into the realm of the Gods.
Michael gripped the axe handle tightly with both hands.
Kwak!
Thunder rumbled again, shaking the entire island. Michael clenched his teeth as if he had made up his mind and brought the axe down on 'it's' chest. The roar grew louder and 'its' torso fell to the ground. Michael took advantage of the gap and raised the axe blade towards 'its' neck.
He had a vague premonition. He felt like he knew a way to destroy this experimental subject that no one had been able to destroy until now, a being that everyone had once looked up to with respect and awe. Without having to bury it in the ocean, he could do it all at once...
Kyaaaah-
He had a vague premonition. He felt like he knew a way to destroy this experimental subject that no one had been able to destroy until now, a being that everyone had once looked up to with respect and awe. Without having to bury it in the ocean, he could do it all at once...
Kyaaaah-
The monster's roar erupted louder from its head engulfed in flames.
As soon as Laura Ridsdell got out of the carriage, she came into the cottage and looked for her daughter. Angie was sitting in the middle of the living room, her shawl wrapped tightly around her neck, shivering slightly. Her face was pale, even though her father, Patrick, had filled the fireplace with logs and turned up the flames to the max.
“Mom! Why are you so late? I was worried the whole time...”
“Oh, you must have been worried because of the heavy rain. The rain has almost stopped in the lower village. It’s just dry thunder that keeps making me surprised.”
“Didn’t you hear a strange sound? I kept hearing something like a scream from the cliff above me. It was so scary and eerie, like the howling of an animal...”
“I don’t know, I’m back on the wagon. It must be the wind. But please, sit down. Angie, I brought you some painkillers. Drink them first.”
Laura took out the vial she had brought from the Duke's mansion and poured it into a small bowl. Her father, Patrick, sat next to her with a troubled expression and watched the two of them. Angie might lose all her memories, but Laura had no other choice. She would have to erase her memories first, and then figure out a way to abort the fetus without telling anyone in the Duke's mansion.
“You have to drink it all at once. Even if it’s a little bitter, bear with it.”
Laura patted her on the back and encouraged her to drink. Angie held the bowl in both hands and stared at the medicine. The blood-red liquid looked ominous. But she slowly brought the bowl to her lips without resistance.
There was no way her parents, of all people, would encourage her to do something that would harm her even a little. Now, the only people she could trust were her mom, dad, and Michael. Because it was certain that the three of them were on her side.
Bang!
Just as she was about to put the bowl to her lips, a gunshot rang out. The living room window shattered in an instant, creating a loud noise. Angie turned around in surprise, still holding the bowl in her hand. The Ridsdels also jumped up in shock.
A few more shots rang out. The glass completely shattered, and the wind blew through the house. Someone on horseback was aiming a gun through the bare branches.
Kai...?
Angie's heart sank. It was obscured by the branches, but she could see it clearly. But Patrick and Laura were pulling her so hard that she couldn't see it anymore.
“What the...? Let’s run away! Come this way!”
Father ran ahead of them toward the back door. The gunshots stopped, but the fear of death grew stronger. As if the horse's loud neighing had been the signal, gloomy, gray clouds quickly gathered.
At the same time, the sharp blade of the axe struck the undead's neck in one stroke. As the head was completely torn off from the body, Michael snatched the torch from the victim's hand on the ground and also attached it to the undead's heart.
Kyaaaaah- kyaaaaah-
The sky responded to the screams of the undead with thunderbolts. It seemed as if the end of the world was coming. It also sounded like the sound of tens of thousands of bats flying in unison. Michael raised his axe above his torso, enduring the roar that made it sound like the entire island was going to sink. His hand, which struck the blade at every point where its limbs were connected, was filled with tremendous strength.
Once, twice, as blood spurted out without mercy and flesh was mutilated, Michael was overcome by a strange joy. He even felt as if he had become God's agent, striking the devil with a hammer.
His axe-wielding was very skillful. He had to be experienced because he had killed poor wild beasts and small animals from time to time. The body was completely torn apart and burned. The smell of burning flesh and melting bones quickly drew Michael's attention to the undead's head.
Michael rekindled the head, which had lost its way, and struck it with his axe countless times. The parts that had once been the eyes, ears, nose, forehead, and chin were crushed and collapsed in the flames. Then a shrill scream echoed throughout the forest.
“Michael!”
Mrs. Dunst was watching him from a distance. They could see each other's faces clearly. She looked as if she had seen a ghost. The smile on Michael's lips deepened.
With his eyes fixed on Louis Dunst, he struck the undead's head with all his might. There was a cracking sound. The face of the undead, once known as the Duke of John Fitzroy Blackwell, was now a charred powder.
The Black Mass, the ritual of eternal life and immortality contained in the secret book of the Caelum Church, was different from the alchemy that had long since declined. It was not a complete blind faith in sorcery. The proof was right before his eyes. Although it had failed and turned into an undead, a living corpse of a ninety-nine-year-old.
Michael straightened his back and looked down at the blazing flames that would soon turn to ashes. He only moved his lips to express his condolences to the deceased.
Grandfather, I hope you are resting in peace in Hell now, carrying with you all the sins of touching taboos and challenging the realm of the gods.
The sin of sacrificing your eldest son, Henry David Blackwell, with your own hands, and turning the life of your second son, Edward Liam Blackwell, who could have been happy with the woman he loved, into a living hell. The sin of sacrificing the first of Edward's twins, Lloyd, as a blood sacrifice just a few months after birth, and making Edward's second son, Kyle, addicted to Eternity from the moment he was born, making him roll around in pain during his growing years.
The greatest of these was a sin that his grandfather had not actually committed, but in Michael's mind, it was no different from a sin that had already been committed.
If Edith, Hester Randall's older sister, had not been quick to hide her son's existence, he too would have become a victim. He, the late Edward's real first child, illegitimate child, and child of darkness, would not be alive now. He could not have personally supervised and watched the end of his grandfather, who had become an undead.
***
As soon as Laura Ridsdell got out of the carriage, she came into the cottage and looked for her daughter. Angie was sitting in the middle of the living room, her shawl wrapped tightly around her neck, shivering slightly. Her face was pale, even though her father, Patrick, had filled the fireplace with logs and turned up the flames to the max.
“Mom! Why are you so late? I was worried the whole time...”
“Oh, you must have been worried because of the heavy rain. The rain has almost stopped in the lower village. It’s just dry thunder that keeps making me surprised.”
“Didn’t you hear a strange sound? I kept hearing something like a scream from the cliff above me. It was so scary and eerie, like the howling of an animal...”
“I don’t know, I’m back on the wagon. It must be the wind. But please, sit down. Angie, I brought you some painkillers. Drink them first.”
Laura took out the vial she had brought from the Duke's mansion and poured it into a small bowl. Her father, Patrick, sat next to her with a troubled expression and watched the two of them. Angie might lose all her memories, but Laura had no other choice. She would have to erase her memories first, and then figure out a way to abort the fetus without telling anyone in the Duke's mansion.
“You have to drink it all at once. Even if it’s a little bitter, bear with it.”
Laura patted her on the back and encouraged her to drink. Angie held the bowl in both hands and stared at the medicine. The blood-red liquid looked ominous. But she slowly brought the bowl to her lips without resistance.
There was no way her parents, of all people, would encourage her to do something that would harm her even a little. Now, the only people she could trust were her mom, dad, and Michael. Because it was certain that the three of them were on her side.
Bang!
Just as she was about to put the bowl to her lips, a gunshot rang out. The living room window shattered in an instant, creating a loud noise. Angie turned around in surprise, still holding the bowl in her hand. The Ridsdels also jumped up in shock.
A few more shots rang out. The glass completely shattered, and the wind blew through the house. Someone on horseback was aiming a gun through the bare branches.
Kai...?
Angie's heart sank. It was obscured by the branches, but she could see it clearly. But Patrick and Laura were pulling her so hard that she couldn't see it anymore.
“What the...? Let’s run away! Come this way!”
Father ran ahead of them toward the back door. The gunshots stopped, but the fear of death grew stronger. As if the horse's loud neighing had been the signal, gloomy, gray clouds quickly gathered.
***
At the same time, the sharp blade of the axe struck the undead's neck in one stroke. As the head was completely torn off from the body, Michael snatched the torch from the victim's hand on the ground and also attached it to the undead's heart.
Kyaaaaah- kyaaaaah-
The sky responded to the screams of the undead with thunderbolts. It seemed as if the end of the world was coming. It also sounded like the sound of tens of thousands of bats flying in unison. Michael raised his axe above his torso, enduring the roar that made it sound like the entire island was going to sink. His hand, which struck the blade at every point where its limbs were connected, was filled with tremendous strength.
Once, twice, as blood spurted out without mercy and flesh was mutilated, Michael was overcome by a strange joy. He even felt as if he had become God's agent, striking the devil with a hammer.
His axe-wielding was very skillful. He had to be experienced because he had killed poor wild beasts and small animals from time to time. The body was completely torn apart and burned. The smell of burning flesh and melting bones quickly drew Michael's attention to the undead's head.
Michael rekindled the head, which had lost its way, and struck it with his axe countless times. The parts that had once been the eyes, ears, nose, forehead, and chin were crushed and collapsed in the flames. Then a shrill scream echoed throughout the forest.
“Michael!”
Mrs. Dunst was watching him from a distance. They could see each other's faces clearly. She looked as if she had seen a ghost. The smile on Michael's lips deepened.
With his eyes fixed on Louis Dunst, he struck the undead's head with all his might. There was a cracking sound. The face of the undead, once known as the Duke of John Fitzroy Blackwell, was now a charred powder.
The Black Mass, the ritual of eternal life and immortality contained in the secret book of the Caelum Church, was different from the alchemy that had long since declined. It was not a complete blind faith in sorcery. The proof was right before his eyes. Although it had failed and turned into an undead, a living corpse of a ninety-nine-year-old.
Michael straightened his back and looked down at the blazing flames that would soon turn to ashes. He only moved his lips to express his condolences to the deceased.
Grandfather, I hope you are resting in peace in Hell now, carrying with you all the sins of touching taboos and challenging the realm of the gods.
The sin of sacrificing your eldest son, Henry David Blackwell, with your own hands, and turning the life of your second son, Edward Liam Blackwell, who could have been happy with the woman he loved, into a living hell. The sin of sacrificing the first of Edward's twins, Lloyd, as a blood sacrifice just a few months after birth, and making Edward's second son, Kyle, addicted to Eternity from the moment he was born, making him roll around in pain during his growing years.
The greatest of these was a sin that his grandfather had not actually committed, but in Michael's mind, it was no different from a sin that had already been committed.
If Edith, Hester Randall's older sister, had not been quick to hide her son's existence, he too would have become a victim. He, the late Edward's real first child, illegitimate child, and child of darkness, would not be alive now. He could not have personally supervised and watched the end of his grandfather, who had become an undead.
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