Capítulo 36: Decisions
The sky was shrouded in clouds, a deep purplish hue marking the transition to night. The stars threatened to reveal themselves, but the moon had yet to make its appearance. The visibility was near non-existent, with torrential rain beating down relentlessly, making it impossible to see more than three meters ahead. Elliot stood in an alley between house numbers 10 and 12, the water pouring down from above with such force that it felt like a high-pressure washer. The relentless stream washed away the blue blood on his skin, and his body trembled from the force of the downpour and the cold winds. Yet, he held his ground.
Though he had only just entered the alley, his eyes were sharp, scanning the environment for something specific—a black suitcase, containing three vials of black blood. His eyelids narrowed, the worsening conditions blurring his vision. But there, ahead of him, he saw it. The suitcase. Finally. 'My black blood. I'll take one and a half for myself, and leave the rest for Ren. With Edwin and Samantha dead, I'm no longer bound by any contract. I'm free.'
Elliot glanced over at his bag, both it and he drenched, the water rising around his legs. In the distance, beyond the alley, a figure loomed—cloaked in black, its silhouette imposing and large, but barely distinguishable against the downpour. Elliot continued forward, his shoes and socks soaked, the rest of his body just as wet. He held his bag and the suitcase above the rising water, his strides long and determined. The water came up to his shins, but his pace quickened, his steps sharp and forceful, as though he were wading through thick mud and hopping over small obstacles.
The darkness around him felt impenetrable. The light from the stars had vanished, swallowed by the winds that churned the air. It was as if he were running through a void, moving without sight or sound, his mind singularly focused. His body pushed through the water, faster than most people could run. He appeared like a man racing against time, the look on his face grim, eyes cold as the sea. It wasn't just running anymore—he was leaping from the water, his muscles contracting painfully, veins surging under his drenched clothes.
'I must be faster. Faster, to Ren! What time is it? Where am I?'
The sharp taste of iron filled his mouth as he bit into his inner cheek, the blood mingling with the sensation of urgency building in his chest. His pupils were wide, but the rain had rendered his senses numb and his vision blurry. But then, there it was—he was under a roof now, rain less intense but still pouring, the water around his legs almost up to his knees. He held his bag with one hand, but the suitcase remained pressed to his side.
Quickly, he opened the suitcase to confirm that the black blood had arrived safely. The contents were as he expected—dark as the night, difficult to see but undoubtedly present. He pulled one vial out carefully, leaving the others behind, and swiftly closed the case. With the vial now in hand, Elliot pressed it to his lips. He twisted the cap off, consuming the black blood in one motion, as if it were a shot of whiskey.
His teeth, yellowed by the constant exposure to harsh elements, now turned black, blending into the dark surroundings. The rain continued to pour down, drenching him further. As the black blood coursed through his veins, his insides seemed to burn, hotter than any fire, but this fire was from within, consuming him from the inside out. His eyes rolled back, and his fingers stiffened, dropping both the suitcase and the bag into the rising water. His body was consumed by spasms, his muscles convulsing violently, veins popping under his skin as if they were about to rupture.
His knees buckled, and he sank into the water. His whole body, from his calves to his neck, was frozen in a painful rigidity as his veins darkened and expanded, overtaking his limbs and torso. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. The pain was excruciating, but he couldn't stop. His body had betrayed him. He twitched and jerked, his vision flickering, until a blow to his nose brought him back to reality.
'Splash!'
Elliot fell to the ground, his body wracked with violent tremors, his muscles locking up even more. He struggled to regain control, his limbs moving without coordination. His hearing was filled with the rushing of dirty water, muffled sounds distorted by the torrent. All he could focus on were the footsteps—heavy, powerful—getting closer. Then, the voice.
"I didn't know the black blood was in here. I was curious, but I didn't want to take any risks. But a weakling like you, receiving black blood... Are you the son of a king, little one?" The deep voice of the figure, cloaked in black, laughed. The sound sent a chill down Elliot's spine as the figure grabbed for the suitcase.
But then, a light. A blinding light—orange and yellow, so intense that it was almost unbearable. Elliot could barely see, but the man who had been standing over him shrieked in agony, his vision stolen by the burst of light. His body stumbled back, clutching his eyes as though they were burned.
"Holy shit!" the man cried, his figure staggering. But Elliot, still struggling, murmured weakly, "Ren… I need to get to Ren…"
Before he could continue, the light faded, and with it came a flurry of red strikes. Elliot felt himself being dragged away from the water, his body wet and trembling. He could hear more strikes, the sound of fists landing, but everything around him was muffled and white. Yet, in mere seconds, four figures appeared above him.
It was William, Elton, Chris, and Elisia—standing tall, dry, their appearances unchanged. They looked down at Elliot, their smiles forced, their eyes troubled.
"What happened? Where have you been?" William and Elton shouted in unison, their voices filled with panic and frustration. Their gazes turned to the large, burly man, who had entered the headquarters of the Blue Sharks.
"Did you kidnap Elliot?" William demanded, his voice rising, blue veins pulsing along his neck.
"Kidnap?" The burly man laughed, though it wasn't the laugh of a jovial person—his face, marred by scars, twisted into a cruel grin. "You're one to talk. I was just curious."
The man, his face obscured by a hood, stepped forward, his color-shifting eyes narrowing, the blue deepening. The moment their gazes locked, a strange orange hue began to seep into his pupils, signaling something dangerous. Without warning, the man lunged.
William and the others were forced onto their knees, their bodies convulsing as their veins bulged under their skin, a response to the threat that loomed before them. Elisia, undeterred, cut her palm with a swift motion, stepping back as Chris positioned himself in front of her, his revolver aimed at the burly figure.
William, taking cover, shouted, "We need time! Chris, cover us!"
"On it!" Chris shouted, sprinting toward a nearby cupboard. Meanwhile, Elisia circled the burly man, while William and Elton charged at him, but the man moved with blinding speed, pulling out two short swords that resembled machetes from beneath his cloak.
Elton froze for a moment, his mouth slightly open, eyes wide.
Elton watched in horror as a short sword was driven into William's cheek and then plunged into his throat. Blue blood mixed with the cold water as William collapsed. He gasped, his face submerged, his blonde hair clinging to the water's surface, his eyes flickering weakly. He clutched at his open wounds, more blood than usual spilling out, the blue blood flowing first, quickly followed by red, merging with the water, drifting toward Elliot.
Elliot could only stare in terror, his eyes wide as he watched William reach out toward him. But Elliot recoiled, unable to move, William's faint, desperate attempt at speech fading into the stillness. 'No, no! This can't be happening!'
Elliot's eyes shimmered with tears, his trembling hand hovering uncertainly over William, but it was too late. William's blue eyes stared unblinking into the abyss, the pale fog of morning surrounding him, unmoving.
Elton screamed, his voice hoarse with rage, more powerful than ever before. "You damn bastard!" His fury tore through the air as he lunged toward the strong man, gripping him desperately, but the powerful figure shook him off, two short machetes embedded deep in Elton's legs. Blue blood sprayed out, staining the water. Elton bit down on his lips, his voice breaking, "Elisia, now!"
Elisia raised her hand, her own blue blood staining the murderer's cheek, her eyes filled with anguish as her teeth ground together in determination. The strong man froze, as if he could not move, even as Elton collapsed, his body flailing as he fell into the shallow water. Elliot, still frozen, could only watch, his entire body trembling in shock.
He saw Elisia standing there, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, but Elton's blood continued to stain the water. In the corner of his vision, Chris was reloading his revolver, his eyes glancing quickly at the clock on the wall.
'16:02. 16:02?! Only 18 minutes left! 'Elliot rubbed his eyes frantically, his gaze darting between the clock, the bodies around him, and back to the clock again.
His body trembled, his thoughts in chaos. His eyes flicked to the open door, his heart hammering. "Damn it, I have to go." His inner curse was drowned in a flood of grief, his tears continuing to mix with the rain. His gaze shifted to William's lifeless form, his body hunched with quiet, bitter sobs. Then, as if a spark had gone off inside him, Elliot stood fully upright.
For a moment, everyone's eyes were on him. But he paid them no mind. He searched the water for something, his hand grasping for his bag and his suitcase. Shaking, he clutched his things, then moved with purpose toward the door. His legs trembled with each step, his body unable to steady itself, but he walked on. The strong man, scarred and dangerous, watched him silently, his body unmoving.
Then, the strong man's body twitched, as though waking from some deep slumber. A guttural, silent scream poured from him, his veins bulging as if they might burst. His skin took on a blue hue, gradually shifting to a sickly orange. The transformation was slow, but his hands began to move, followed by his mouth, then his joints. He was waking up.
Elliot had already crossed the threshold, stepping out into the storm. The darkness enveloped him like a thick cloak, the rain slashing down in torrents, each droplet adding to his grief. Behind him, he could hear the others. The muffled sound of Elton's broken sobs, his body kneeling in the water, clutching at his bleeding legs. But Elliot did not look back. He had already slipped away into the shadows, his silhouette fading into the night, disappearing into the storm.
Inside, the strong man was slowly regaining control of his body. But Chris fired again, his aim sharp despite the panic in his eyes. The gunshots rang out, four rounds, each one sinking deep into the strong man's flesh, but he kept moving.
'Pow! Pow! Click!'
The revolver fell silent. Chris's eyes widened in horror as the weapon misfired. "No!" Elisia screamed, lunging toward the powerful man in a final, desperate attempt to stop him.
The sounds of chaos were drowned out by the storm, the world spinning as Chris stood helplessly, his body trembling with shock. A warm, wet sensation spread over his hands and clothes. Blue blood, sticky and warm, soaked into his skin. Elisia's blood.
The strong man had driven his two machetes into her back, the blades digging into Chris's clothing, slicing through the fabric just enough to cut into his abdomen, though they didn't go deeper. The pain was unbearable, but Chris didn't move, his eyes fixed on Elisia.
"Chris…" Her voice was faint, barely a whisper. Her pale hands clung weakly to his shoulders as her eyes fluttered. "I'm cold…"
Her words were barely audible as she coughed, more blue blood staining her pale skin. Chris watched, helpless, as she continued to tremble in his arms. Her breath grew shallow, her body becoming more fragile with each passing second.
"N-no, you'll make it," he muttered, his voice hoarse. He gently brushed the damp strands of her hair out of her face, his hands trembling as he wiped away the blood from her brow.
But Elisia's eyes began to flicker, her breaths shallow and ragged. Her body swayed, her lips parting to speak, but all she could manage was a faint whisper, "I love you…"
Her voice faltered, and her body collapsed forward, her fragile frame leaning against him. Chris's arms tightened around her, pulling her close as her heart slowed, her breath growing still. The room was filled with silence, broken only by the sound of rain and the soft lapping of the water around them.
Elisia's body, like William's and Elton's, joined the others in the cold water, her eyes wide and glassy, her lips parted as if she still wanted to say something. Her last words lingered in the air, haunting, as her body pressed against Chris's trembling form.
He stared at her, unable to speak, unable to understand what had happened. His gaze shifted to the outside world; his eyes locked on the endless night. The storm raged around them, the darkness pressing in from all sides. He didn't blink, didn't move. His world had shattered, and all he could do was hold her as the rain continued to fall, his teeth grinding together in silence.
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
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