Terror Awakening chapter 19

Chapter 19: The Departure of Eight

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

The pressing urgency of the situation left no room for thoughtful pause.

An overpowering sense of terror seemed to close in from every direction, palpably felt by each person present. Not only did Miles sense this impending danger, but every individual in the room did. The foreboding noise of the security door slowly being pushed open, coupled with the echoing steps in the corridor, signaled an inevitable threat that no one could ignore.

A heavy silence weighed down on the group, filled with a mutual yet unspoken realization: they were the last living souls within the school’s confines.

As the footsteps grew louder and more distinct, William, Peter, Coral, and their companions could discern an unsettling truth. The footsteps weren’t characteristic of any living human. Instead, they seemed to echo the ghostly walk of an advancing ghost.

Confronted with this imminent ghostly presence, Miles made a sudden, desperate move. Clenching his jaw with determination and barely concealing the fear in his eyes, he swiftly bit down on the unusual eye that had taken root in his forearm.

The sharp, searing pain of tearing his own flesh caused him to gasp aloud, his body involuntarily convulsing from the sheer intensity of the pain. Yet, Miles resisted the urge to let go. He continued, driven by a force beyond understanding, to forcefully remove the blood-soaked eye from his arm using just his teeth.

“Miles… what have you done?” The shock in the room was palpable, with every gaze fixated on him.

They were met with a gruesome sight. Miles arm was drenched in blood, his mouth smeared with it, patches of his skin appearing raw and damaged, and his eyes, glowing an eerie shade of red, were filled with a mix of determination and terror.

A pressing question hung in the air: Was Miles now under some malevolent possession?

The once externally visible red eye on his arm began its unnerving journey beneath his skin, leaving behind a trail of deep red, almost as if it was tunneling through his veins. As it moved, his skin stretched and bulged, making it seem as if it might tear apart at any moment, with his attire quickly becoming saturated with his own blood.

The pain he was enduring seemed far more agonizing than his previous encounter when a ghost infant had bitten him, leading to the eye’s mysterious emergence. However, this act of mutilation was self-inflicted, making it all the more disturbing.

Then, in a blink of an eye, the crimson orb disappeared from where it was last seen in his mouth.

Yet, something squirmed in the wound on his arm, the spot from which he had bitten off the eye. In a flash, a larger and more menacing eye had grown, filling the cavity with its eerie gaze.

A sixth eye had emerged, the new one growing in his belly.

Every agonized scream from Miles was accompanied by a sinister red glow that seeped from the tears in his skin. The light illuminated one area, then another, and another, spreading across his body, presenting a nightmarish scene for onlookers.

Below him, the floor wasn’t spared. It became covered with the eerie red mist, resembling a thick fog, which contrasted sharply with the surrounding obsidian blackness.

Suddenly, an ancient parchment that had gone unnoticed until this moment began to change, revealing a new message:

“At precisely 5:30, after consuming an eye, I gained a sixth one. This new eye emits a unique red luminescence that morphs every space it caresses into a haunted realm, which I now dub as my ghost domain. However, the power of a vindictive ghost is slowly taking over my essence. There’s a looming dread that I might eventually be consumed by it, turning into a ghost myself.”

Furthermore, the note revealed, “The birth of my ghost domain seems to beckon other restless spirits. One has already snuffed out a life.”

Almost as if providing proof to the parchment’s claim, a ghostly hand stretched out from the engulfing darkness, clasping the neck of a petrified student. With merciless force, the student was yanked towards the abyssal void.

His desperate pleas of “No, please, help me!” resonated through the air, his arms flapping, trying to grasp something, anything. But the darkness swallowed his cries, replacing them with an unnerving stillness.

Those who witnessed this gruesome scene were paralyzed, unable to act due to their overwhelming terror. The undeniable truth of their peril was before them, but they were too paralyzed with dread to help.

In the midst of this horror, Wanhao was an utter mess of tears and fear. In a frantic bid to escape, he blindly ran without a destination in mind. As he darted around, he collided with an eerie presence.

Before him stood an old man, skeletal in appearance. He wore a long, flowing robe, and his face was devoid of emotion, life, or humanity. His lifeless eyes pierced through Wanhao, who found himself unable to move. With slow deliberation, the old man reached out a decaying hand towards the terrified boy.

Somewhere nearby, a girl’s voice rang out in pure terror, repeating, “Don’t come near me, don’t approach,” as she slowly lost her grip on reality due to overwhelming fear. The mental toll this ordeal would take on her, should she survive, was immeasurable.

In a corner, a drained Peter could only sit, pinned down by his own terror. Grace was elsewhere, crouched down, her hands covering her ears, her body convulsing with sobs.

Despite witnessing Miles’s terrifying transformation, Coral clung to him tightly. The thought of what the enveloping darkness might spawn next was an even greater horror for her.

The deaths of a few students momentarily stilled the relentless spirits. However, the enveloping darkness continued its oppressive reign, with an unsettling quiet ruling the scene.

But then the fleeting moment of respite was abruptly shattered.

“Tap, tap-tap.” The rhythmic sound of footsteps echoed again, but this time, it was more than just one set. From every conceivable direction, the footfalls multiplied, each one growing louder and nearer.

Out of nowhere, ghostly hands sprang forth from the shrouding darkness. One hand firmly gripped William’s shoulder, making him flinch. Another hand entwined itself in a female student’s hair, causing her to scream, while yet another clutched at Grace’s ankle, pulling her off balance. Everyone present became prey to the relentless ghost onslaught.

A quick glance at a nearby mobile phone confirmed the time: precisely 5:30.

Eerily, just as the ancient parchment had predicted, by the time 5:30 struck, everyone had been ensnared by a tragic fate.

“Back off!” The cry for reprieve came as a deep, resonating shout, punctuating the thick air of desperation.

Amidst the chaos, Miles managed to stand up, and as he did, his skin began to fissure, reminiscent of drought-ridden land. But in the depths of those cracks, a series of concealed eyes were discernible. They radiated an intense red glow, casting a protective circle of light around Miles, which spanned approximately five meters. The ghostly apparitions recoiled from the brightness, hesitating in their attacks.

A shadowy figure garbed in a pitch-black robe took note of the sudden shift. His face, bearing the unmistakable hallmarks of decay and death, paused and hesitated. Those vacant, ashen eyes, however, remained firmly locked onto Miles.

But the moment of hesitation was just that, a moment. The elder figure, gathering his resolve, bravely stepped into the boundary of the radiant red light. To everyone’s dismay, Miles’s protective domain began to falter under the intrusion. The light flickered intermittently, akin to a dying candle, before being extinguished entirely.

In the wake of the vanishing light, Miles, Coral, William, Peter, and their three peers also disappeared without a trace.

The aftermath left only the old man, accompanied by his ghostly minions, standing amidst the overpowering hush of the haunted realm, with the only sound being the faint footsteps of its mysterious overlord.

As the scene played out, a chilling revelation manifested on the parchment, almost unnoticed: “5:30, everyone perished. Such an outcome is surely unfathomable.”

Then, a subsequent line appeared: “5:31 – I remain. Among the eight, I am the lone soul who managed to evade the school’s clutches. Hehe.”

Chillingly, an uncanny smiley face briefly graced the parchment before vanishing, making the scenario seem like a dark, twisted joke.

 

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