I no longer see the blue light, only the grotesque scene before . He sticks his green tongue into my arm. His face transforms into an unknown one. Eyes fall out, teeth fall onto my forearm. Hair slides down his suit. His face drenched in my blood, green liquid oozing from the hollows of his eyes.
"So good," he says indistinctly as he gulps down my blood like morning juice. My breath rises, then flattens. My vision becos blurry. I see my own arm two or three tis. The Green creature moves back and forth. My ears hiss, the external noises, the gulping becoming more distant.
Cold sweat overcos , my hands and feet freeze as if I’m holding them in ice. My whole body trembles. I no longer feel his hand on my stomach.
I try to rise—but I’m too weak.
My blood, warm and heavy, spurts from my wounds... into its mouth. My flickering eyelids fall every few seconds, smothering my sight. It feels like I’m staring through a tunnel. The red world around fades with every shallow breath I take. I groan, and in my next breath, the crimson dims into sothing pastel pink. The blue light above glimrs—half-bold, half-timid—casting itself into my eyes.
Is this God?
No... it isn’t.
“Is it already ti?”
The voice reaches , distorted and murky, like it’s being warped underwater. Then—sweetness. I taste more blood, but not my own. It’s thick, sweet, like honey. Iron-rich, yes... but delicious in a way that disturbs .
My fading breath ignites like a spark turned fla. I feel my fingertips—tingling, alive. My sweat turns warm, and my eyes snap open. Droplets form, then pour, like water from a barely opened faucet. I swallow. I swallow the sweet aroma like it’s salvation. My head jolts up. My mouth—wide open—reaches for more of that nectar.
I feel the pulse in my toes. My jaw cracks. My upper arm burns—no, blazes. My fists feel as if they’re subrged in fire... but without pain. I can bear the heat.
My pastel-tinged vision sharpens. Contrast floods in.
Eyes once fading are jolted awake by the tide of returning life. My red tongue coils, and my Adam’s apple presses the warm nectar down my throat like I’ve been stranded in a desert for days.
The creature’s green arm hangs above —slashed open. I realize whose blood I’m drinking.
The blood of the one who murdered my brother.
My eyes widen. I shut my trembling mouth.
Brows furrowed, I push myself from the table, hands trembling from tension. The monster’s green blood splashes against my cheek—hot, thick—just as I hurl myself down. I fall barely half a ter before landing on my feet.
I’m... standing.
My body feels fit. Whole. Alive.
Puzzled, I glance at my palms. I turn my hands, stunned by the unbroken skin on my knuckles. My mouth hangs open. I touch my face. No cuts. I turn my head, raise my left arm—the gaping wound is gone.
My eyes drift from myself, drawn to the thing before .
It stares.
Snow-white, just like the first ti we t. No eyes. No nose. No hair. Only a smooth, pale face, drenched in red.
Its suit is no longer black, but beige, soaked in blood. It smiles at —grinning without teeth—and slowly spreads its long fingers toward my face... and then to its own stomach.
It says nothing. Just takes a step forward.
Its mouth splits open—far wider than humanly possible. Inside, a long, green tongue drips with my blood.
Yet I live.
Another step. I stagger back. It tilts its blood-sared head to the side, studying with childlike curiosity—like it’s playing again.
And then the sound—that laugh.
It erupts from deep within its twisted vocal cords, echoing so loud that my ears ring with pain. It smiles wider, stretching the corner of its lips until they look ready to tear. It steps forward once more. I retreat, until—
My bare back slams into cold stone.
The silhouette halts beneath the pale blue light, casting shadows that dance against the walls. It takes another step—but stops.
Its faceless head tilts in the opposite direction now. Silence follows. Heavy. Stretching seconds into eternities.
It raises its hands—long, trembling fingers—and for the first ti, it no longer seems amused.
It looks... confused.
The snow-white face, soaked in red, shifts hue—green bleeds into its skin.
Just a breath. Just a blink. Just one heartbeat—
And then, silence breaks.
An explosion.
My vision floods with green light.
Everything—the ceiling, the floor—erupts in radiant green. I step forward in shock, glance behind, see the shadow I left on the wall still untouched... and look back at what remains of the creature.
There is... nothing above the shoulders.
Green blood spurts violently from where its neck used to be, foaming and bubbling. Maggots and gore pour out like a cursed fountain. With each breath, the geyser weakens, until the broken body—the remaining three quarters—collapses backward.
Skin peels. Flesh rips. More maggots crawl from beneath what was once its pristine white surface.
The green monster.
The one who killed my brother.
The one who killed .
Lies still.
At my bare feet.
And I... I don’t know how to feel.
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