Jake watched as the survivors approached him. They stopped a few steps away, their faces bright with joy. The group consisted of two n and two won. They were ard with assault rifles and shotguns, but they weren’t gripping their weapons. Instead, they allowed them to dangle from their slings.
“That was incredible, man,” one of the male survivors exclaid.
“Yeah,” a female survivor chid in, her gaze fixed on Jake, not a hint of fear on her face. “You got them real good. Those scumbags deserved that treatnt.”
“Did you guys notice how they tried to escape from him?” another woman asked.
“I did,” the other male survivor said. “Los Demonios are terrified of you. It’s amazing to see those assholes, who once believed themselves invincible, now running in sheer terror! You brought them crashing back to earth.”
After saying this, the man moved closer to Jake, reaching out his left hand as if to give him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Jake extended a sword from his right wrist and swung it downward at the survivor’s outstretched arm. The severed at the elbow arm flopped to the ground, blood pouring from the stump.
The survivor’s expression was one of shock mixed with disbelief, eyes wide as he stared at the gushing torrent of his blood. The other three humans were just as shocked as he was. Before they could collect themselves, Jake lunged toward the nearest one, plunging his sword through her body. He pulled the blade from her body, and the woman dropped to her knees, hands holding the gash in her midsection. A second later, she collapsed face-first to the ground.
Jake turned to face the two remaining humans. Finally regaining their senses, they fumbled for their weapons. Jake lunged at the closest survivor—the male one—stabbing him in the throat. The blade went all the way through, bursting out the back of the person’s neck. Pulling the blade free, Jake imdiately swung it at the last survivor, taking her head off her shoulders, sending it rolling across the ground.
Jake retracted his blade and took a look at the bodies of the four humans he had just killed. They lay sprawled on the ground, pools of blood spreading beneath them. Killing them felt good. Real good. It was what he was: a predator. He should hunt humans—all humans, without discrimination, refusing to side with any of them. Instead of repressing his monster side, he should embrace it. That was his true nature.
Jake felt a firm pat on his shoulder, snapping back to reality. The man was encouraging him, while the other three survivors behind him looked at Jake with the sa smiles as before. Only then did he realize he hadn’t actually killed anyone—he had imagined the whole thing instead. Yet it felt so real. He had genuinely believed it was actually happening.
Jake stumbled back from the person before him. The man’s expression instantly changed to one of concern.
“Is sothing wrong?” he asked.
The three other survivors were no longer smiling, staring at him with worry in their eyes. One of the won visibly tensed up. They might have realized they shouldn’t get too comfortable with him. A dostic cat may appear adorable, but it doesn’t always crave human attention. At tis, it prefers solitude and may even lash out if approached too aggressively or startled. The sa applied to Jake, with the sole difference that he was a much more dangerous creature. If he beca aggressive, the consequences for those who bothered him would be far more severe than those from a cat.
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“Stay back from it,” the nervous woman warned the man standing before Jake. “I don’t think it appreciates being touched.”
They had returned to referring to him as “it,” and they were probably right. He wasn’t human but a dangerous monster, and his monstrous nature could erge at any mont. Humans needed to always keep that in mind.
The man stepped back, muttering sothing to his companions over his shoulder. However, Jake no longer paid attention to the survivors, absorbed in his own thoughts.
He couldn’t believe he had just imagined killing them. What was worse, he actually enjoyed slaying them in his mind. It was wrong. Thoughts like that should be wrong. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself, but the reality was that he didn’t genuinely feel that way.
He rembered that when he was in the first stage of evolution, he occasionally felt dark impulses to kill humans. He used to refer to those urges as his inner beast. After evolving to the second stage, the bloodthirsty urges vanished. The boundary between his human and monster sides beca blurred. At first, he thought this was a positive step forward, believing he had gained full control over himself and his desires.
But now he wasn’t sure. Instead of regaining his humanity, it seed that with each evolution cycle, he was turning more into a beast without truly recognizing it.
Now that he was at Stage 3, sothing strange seed to be happening to him. He felt he should have turned into a complete monster by this point, but that hadn’t quite happened. The reason was likely that he was desperately clinging to the remnants of his humanity.
Probably because of that, he was now plagued by bloodthirsty visions and intrusive thoughts about killing humans, similar to those he had experienced earlier. It felt like his monstrous nature was trying to convert the last fragnts of his humanity into a beast as well.
Jake rembered thinking that helping humans might cultivate sympathy for them and preserve his humanity. And it actually seed to work for a while, but no longer. After evolving into Stage 3, siding with good humans no longer seed to make a difference.
He didn’t know how long he could resist before fully succumbing to his monstrous nature. He felt that becoming a complete monster was inevitable. But he didn’t want that. The thought of becoming a full-fledged monster filled him with dread.
He definitely didn’t want to beco a mindless killing machine. He dreaded the thought of becoming a complete monster, driven solely by the instinct to survive. This transformation would an losing not just his humanity but also his sense of self and capacity for thought.
He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to lose his identity. But how long could he maintain his humanity? Despite all his efforts, his monstrous side seed to be gradually winning. It felt like becoming a complete monster was just a matter of ti now.
The four survivors kept staring at him, their bodies tense. Jake noticed their hands tightening around their weapons, but they weren’t aid at him—not yet, anyway. Jake spun around and sprinted away. He didn’t look back, but he could feel the gazes of the four survivors on his back.
He soon returned to the four-way intersection where he had left the captured walker. After looking around to ensure no humans were spying on him, he hoisted the mutant over his shoulder.
It was ti to resu heading back to his lair. With any luck, there would be no more distractions along the way.
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