Chapter 803: 403 an angry python
“You bastard! You filthy little beggar, even if I beco a ghost, I won’t let you go!” Tom had completely descended into madness at this point. His eyes were blood-red, his fingers outstretched as if he could slice Mark into pieces with his gaze alone.
Beside Tom, David was already paralyzed by the sheer terror of impending death. His body curled on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. His cries were drenched in endless fear and despair, as if the end of the world had arrived.
In contrast, Ben seed to be the calst among the three. He gave Mark a deep, penetrating look and said in a low voice, “Brother, if you want dead, I’ll accept it. But I advise you, be very cautious with Oscar. Do you really think he’s a good person? Back then…”
Ben’s sentence was abruptly cut off by the roar of a machine suddenly coming to life inside the room. The sound was like a feral howl from Hell, instantly shattering the already unbearably tense atmosphere.
Seconds later, the loose iron chains that had been lying on the floor abruptly tightened. Like an enraged python, they wrapped around the three and rcilessly dragged them toward the electric saw mounted on a steel fra.
“Ahhh!!! No!!! I don’t want to die!!!”
“Help! Ahhh!! Soone help !!”
Dragged helplessly across the ground, Tom and David scread like pigs being slaughtered. Their arms and legs flailed wildly, desperately trying to grab onto anything that could save them. Their bodies writhed and twisted on the floor, as if struggling alone could sohow cheat death.
But the chains and the saw were as unrelenting as a brutal beast. No amount of pleading or struggling stopped them from pulling the n ever closer to the pitch-black, death-laden Abyss.
“Brrrrrrrrr…”
The electric saw spun at a dizzying speed. In an instant, the entire room transford into a living hell. Blood sprayed across the floor, splattered onto the walls, and even painted Mark’s face red. The color was vivid, almost dazzling in its brightness, and yet it radiated an unparalleled sense of dread.
So viewers wanted to close their eyes, to escape from the sheer horror depicted before them. But the low, guttural grinding noise of the saw’s teeth cutting through flesh and bone persisted, like a ghost clawing its way up from Hell’s depths. Each dreadful sound carved into their ears, sending shivers down to their very souls.
“Hah… hah… hah…”
Their mouths hung open, grotesquely wide, with torrents of bright red liquid gushing out — a flood that refused to stop. Their faces, contorted in agony, bore an expression that seed almost inhuman. Blood covered their features, turning them into monstrous visages, like demons who had clawed their way out of Hell.
“Holy shit! That scared the crap out of !”
“So this is what it looks like to get ripped apart by an electric saw… terrifying beyond anything I imagined!”
“Oh my god, the way the blood sprays everywhere… it’s way bloodier than those R-rated western horror films. My chest can’t handle this level of tension.”
“I can’t take it anymore. This is way too gory. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have nightmares tonight.”
“Shield with bullet comnts!”
“Shield with bullet comnts!”
“Shield with bullet comnts!”
“…”
In the stillness of midnight, confronted with such a graphic and horrific scene, many viewers in the livestream chat expressed their deep discomfort. To alleviate their fear, they began spamming bullet comnts on the screen, as if the flood of floating remarks could protect them from the terror emanating through their screens.
On the livestream, Tom, David, and Ben were now visibly severed at their necks by the electric saw. Their lifeless heads drooped against their chests, while geysers of crimson liquid erupted continuously from the grueso stumps.
“Clack, clack, clack.”
The chanized device continued operating relentlessly, its sounds echoing around the blood-soaked room. anwhile, the iron chains kept tugging on their lifeless torsos, as if Death God itself was dragging their remains further into oblivion. Each tallic scrape was a rciless hamr pounding the viewers’ nerves.
“Thud.”
“Thud.”
“Thud.”
Finally, after three dull, resounding thumps, the chains fully decapitated the three n. Their heads, as if carrying so lingering consciousness, rolled along the floor before coming to rest at Mark’s feet.
Their lifeless eyes remained wide open, gazing directly at Mark with unrelenting intensity, as if silently demanding to know why he had been so heartless.
The cara zood in on the decapitated heads for a close-up. Their vacant, hopeless gazes, blood-streaked faces, and frozen expressions of despair were grotesque. The coagulated red liquid crusting their features made them look even more sinister. Their mouths gaping in eternal screams, fresh streams of red continued leaking down. A faint trace of soone else’s flesh could even be seen lodged in Tom’s throat, enough to make anyone’s skin crawl.
“Ugh… I can’t take it anymore. I just had duck heads for lunch, and now this image keeps making gag.”
“Fuck! That’s terrifying. If I’d known this stream would be so horrifying, I wouldn’t have tempted fate by watching it late at night. Now I can’t sleep — every ti I close my eyes, I see these awful scenes.”
“Girl, you’re not alone. Even us big, tough guys are terrified out of our wits. I don’t even dare blink anymore.”
“Then you might as well make a friend of her; the two of you can stay up all night discussing life. Maybe it’ll lighten the mood.”
“We have to criticize the strear. What you’re doing is just plain wrong!”
To dispel the suffocating tension and fear in their hearts, viewers in the chat began cracking jokes and teasing one another. Without this levity, many might genuinely find themselves unable to sleep, haunted by the dark shadow of dread for the entire night.
Amid all this chaos, Mark smirked coldly. Lifting his foot, he kicked the three heads away ruthlessly, as though kicking a soccer ball. His voice was as frigid as the air in the room. “If you’re dead, then get the fuck away from !”
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