章節 73: Revolution [part 4]
This chapter is only for readers 18+ and contains disturbing scenes. Please read it at your own risk.
**IN THE DEPTHS OF THE SHADOW**
The hallway seemed to swallow me as I moved, each step a deeper plunge into the darkness.
The light rustling sound continued to make itself heard, a whisper that seemed to come closer and then recede, like a ghost toying with my sanity.
The oppressive silence was broken only by my ragged breathing and the frantic pounding of my heart.
Every shadow seemed to grow and contort, taking on ghostly shapes that watched me with invisible eyes.
Yet, amidst that overwhelming despair, a flicker of hope still burned.
The words in the diary, the promise of an escape route, were my beacon in the darkness.
I had to follow the light, escape this hell.
I felt my determination was stronger than any fear or terror this place could unleash upon me.
I continued to follow the rustling, my senses alert.
The path ahead was a trap of potential dangers, but each step forward brought me closer to the truth.
Finally, the corridor opened into a large room.
The dim light barely illuminated the space, revealing indistinct shapes.
As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw what they feared to reveal: a group of men, my enemies, were gathered in the center of the room.
Their faces were marked with cruelty and determination.
They watched me with cold eyes, like predators sizing up their prey.
A wave of fear and adrenaline washed over me, but it was accompanied by something unexpected and unimaginable: a thrill of excitement.
The knife in my hand seemed to throb with its own energy.
As I advanced toward them, the fear transformed into a bloodlust.
A twisted smile formed on my face.
I was tired of being the prey, of living in fear. Now, I was the hunter.
With a cry of defiance, I lunged at the first enemy.
The knife slid easily into his flesh, the warmth of his blood splashing onto my skin.
The man fell with a muffled groan, and I turned to the next.
Their eyes widened in shock, but they had no time to react.
I moved like a shadow among them, the knife an extension of my will.
Each strike was precise, lethal. The sound of tearing flesh and their muffled cries filled the air.
My mind became lost in the violence.
Every scream, every strike, was an act of liberation.
I reveled in watching them fall one by one, the power to decide their fate intoxicating.
I had become the judge and executioner of this cursed place.
With each fallen enemy, I felt a growing desire for more, to experience that rush again.
I was thirsty for blood, and my thirst was insatiable.
One of the enemies tried to hit me with an iron bar, but I was quicker.
I ducked, dodged the blow, and plunged the knife into his side.
I felt the blade slide between the ribs, a satisfying sound.
I ripped it out, watching the man fall with an agonized groan.
Another tried to attack me from behind, but with a quick movement, I slashed his throat.
The blood gushed out, warm and thick, as he collapsed to the floor.
Chaos reigned in the room.
Bodies lay everywhere, and the floor was slick with blood.
I was surrounded by enemies, but I felt no fear.
I felt invincible, fueled by the various facets of my personality I had discovered.
Each enemy that fell beneath my knife was a trophy, a testament to my newfound strength. I wanted more, I craved more blood, more death.
The sound of hurried footsteps brought me back to reality.
More men were coming, drawn by the chaos.
I smiled, my hands still slick with blood.
Finally, I would have more prey.
The flickering light in the room cast eerie shadows on the walls, but I was no longer afraid.
I was ready to fight, to kill.
As the new enemies entered the room, I braced myself to face them.
My heart pounded, not with fear, but with a perverse excitement.
I was eager to see how far I could go, how many more lives I could take.
Every enemy that fell beneath my knife was a step toward my freedom, but also a dark pleasure I could not deny.
And so, with a war cry, I plunged back into the fight.
The sound of screams, the clash of weapons, and the scent of blood filled the air.
I was a raging storm, a god of death cloaked in darkness.
I wouldn't stop until the last of my enemies had fallen, until I had quenched my thirst for blood and death.
My mind was a maelstrom of emotions, but at the center of it all was one powerful sensation: freedom.
I was finally free from the chains of fear and terror.
And as my enemies continued to fall one after the other, I knew I would find my way out of this hell.
With each strike, with each life taken, I drew ever closer to the light, to the freedom I so desperately desired.
The noise of battle filled the room, a macabre symphony of screams and muffled groans.
I moved with lethal precision, dodging and countering, each strike an act of sheer will.
The enemies fell one after the other, their bodies collapsing under my relentless assaults.
Every time I drove the knife into flesh, I felt a spark of euphoria, a dark triumph that spurred me on.
I was immersed in a deadly dance, my movements agile and swift, fueled by fury and adrenaline.
Blood splattered, hot and viscous, and the sound of tearing flesh mingled with my ragged breathing.
The room filled with an acrid smell, a mix of sweat, blood, and fear.
I was an unstoppable warrior, and the enemies, one after another, succumbed to my ferocity.
As the fight continued, I felt a transformation within me.
The initial horror and repulsion I had felt when I made my first kill had morphed into a macabre pleasure.
Each enemy slain was a personal victory, a demonstration of my superiority over them.
The fear I had felt entering this structure had dissolved, replaced by an insatiable thirst for violence.
I wanted more.
I craved more enemies to cut down, more lives to end.
A group of men rushed at me, trying to overwhelm me with their numbers.
But I welcomed them with a twisted grin, the blade of my knife gleaming with blood.
I met them with wild fury, my movements a whirlwind of death.
Each enemy that tried to approach was met with precise and deadly blows.
One by one, they fell at my feet, and I felt an absolute sense of power, a sensation that consumed me entirely.
With each strike, my heart pounded harder, not with fear, but with a perverse excitement.
I was enjoying myself.
The darkness surrounding me had become a part of me, and I fed on it, savoring every moment of violence.
I felt like a predator among sheep, each movement an exercise of power and control.
There was no room for doubt or remorse, only a growing desire to see more blood, to hear more cries of pain.
As the last of the enemies fell, a mad laugh escaped my lips.
I was drenched in blood, the knife still clutched in my hand.
I looked at the bodies at my feet, a scene of devastation I had created.
The room had become a macabre sanctuary, a tribute to my fury and newfound power.
I felt invincible, a god of death made flesh.
And seeing that scene before me, I burst into what were tears of joy, accompanied by a mad laugh.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票