I’d scoured every inch of the sprawling mansion, rifling through drawers, under floorboards, behind gilded mirrors—nothing. How the fuck could I not find anything?
No clues, no hidden panels, no smoking gun. But a nagging itch clawed at the back of my mind—sothing was off, fundantally wrong with this world. It looked normal on the surface—manicured lawns, crystal chandeliers, the hum of everyday life—but peel back the facade, and cracks showed.
Tina’s reaction, for instance. She’d grown a dick because of , so freak side effect of my ddling with her, and she hadn’t batted an eye. No shock, no doctors, no questions. Just acceptance, like it was Tuesday. This rang all the bells, right?
The Bureau regulated it all, didn’t they? Overseers of the worlds, stitching and regulating realities together with invisible threads. For an entity juggling multiverses, maybe this glitchy little pocket was too insignificant to monitor—lost in the bureaucratic shuffle—or worse, deliberately ignored.
Why?
What made this world expendable?
Maybe the protagonist’s actions weren’t that significant. The world revolved around Alex, and for them to interfere ant one thing—I have to make Alex do sothing that would attract their attention.
A sharp crack snapped from my thoughts—like glass under boot, echoing from the grounds. My pulse spiked, adrenaline flooding my veins.
I crept to the window, heart slamming against my ribs, and peered into the moonlit night. Shadows shifted below—a few n, broad-shouldered and hooded, moving with predatory silence. Guns glinted in their grips—sleek, matte-black automatics, suppressors screwed on like venomous fangs.
Fuck!
Who the hell were they? Hired muscle for Tina? Or ? The Bureau enforcers sniffing out anomalies? No, they would never send these people to deal with if they knew about . Footsteps crunched on gravel, then the front door’s lock clicked—professional, no hesitation.
Panic surged as I yanked open a drawer, fingers closing around the claw hamr inside, its cold steel weight grounding . Why am I always in these kinds of situations?
There’d always been sothing weird about Tina from the start—her unflinching gaze, the way she acted. After I ’forgave’ her, she acted as the perfect girlfriend. I have seen the obsession swirling in her eyes.
No ti to unpack it now. Heavy boots thudded in the hall, deliberate and closing in. I slipped behind the walk-in closet door, hamr raised, breath shallow. I don’t want to kill them, but they sure as shit won’t leave breathing. So, better for them to die, right?
The bedroom door creaked open. A silhouette filled the fra—tall, ard, scanning the shadows. He stepped in, pistol sweeping the room. Now.
I exploded from hiding, hamr arcing down with every ounce of fury. The claws smashed into his temple with a wet crunch, caving skull like overripe lon. Bone fragnted instantly, jagged shards spraying outward as his eye socket ruptured—gelatinous orb bursting free, dangling by optic nerve on a string of gore.
Brain matter erupted in a pinkish-gray geyser, splattering the wall in chunky ropes that slid down like obscene abstract art, flecked with cerebrospinal fluid and pulverized cortex.
He didn’t even scream—just a gurgling wheeze as his body jerked, pistol clattering uselessly. Blood fountained from the cratered wound, hot and coppery, soaking my shirt in seconds as he crumpled, twitching, piss pooling beneath him from a spasming bladder.
I grabbed the gun and strapped it to my waist.
The second man burst in, eyes widening at the carnage. "What the fu—"
No rcy. I lunged, hamr whistle-cracking through air into his jaw. Teeth exploded in a shrapnel burst—ivory chips embedding in my skin—before the head snapped back, mandible unhinging with a sickening pop.
Kicking his chest, I swung again, claws ripping through cheek flesh to spine, severing vertebrae in a spray of arterial crimson that painted the ceiling. He rolled, gurgling blood bubbles from his mangled throat, intestines slipping out through a torn abdon as he convulsed. I climbed on top of him, hitting his head once more—killing him completely.
The third hesitated in the doorway, gun rising—but I was feral now, slick with slaughter. Hamr t knee first—snap-crunch, femur shattering like dry twigs, white marrow oozing amid shredded muscle.
"AHHHH! AHHH—"
He scread, toppling, and I straddled him, driving the hamr down repeatedly—into face, chest, groin. Eyes pulped to jelly sars; ribs caved with wet snaps, lungs punctured and frothing blood; genitals mashed into a bloody pulp, testicles bursting like overfilled water balloons under the frenzy.
"I don’t miss being a man at all after this," I whispered.
It was really an extrely ssy scene. Honestly, I didn’t like it all. But for so reason, I couldn’t help but appreciate it. In a twisted way, it was a beautiful scene.
Panting, drenched in their blood, I slowly went out of the room. As soon as I went out, a bullet hit the wall beside —I threw the hamr, which hit his face. Taking out the gun, I shot him thrice before running towards him. Grabbing the hamr, I scanned my surroundings.
Where the fuck were the others hiding? I snarled, "Why don’t you all co out? If you promise to not hurt , I will let you all go. Otherwise, I will be forced to kill you all. And I promise that I will like every second of it."
Suddenly, soone attacked from behind . It was a fucking butcher knife! Dodging it, I fared his attacks with my hamr before kicking his chest. He swung again, but this ti it stuck it in the wall. Turning the hamr, I hit his elbow. A sickeningly crunching sound was heard as he scread in pain. I grabbed his head with my right hand, hamring his nose with perfect force.
Then, I positioned him on the knife’s sharp side, hamring his head against it. With two hits, his head snapped out of its body, blood sprayed all over my face as I took a sharp breath.
"Why the fuck attack with a butcher knife? Your friends attacked with a gun." A fucking idiot!
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