Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
In the dead of night, at Moscow's Sheremetyevo Airport, the moment the plane landed, the biting cold wind jolted me awake. Following Miho through the vast terminal, a black Jeep awaited us outside.
Once inside, I noticed that the driver was a tall Russian man who spoke with a thick accent in broken English. He informed us that the weather was bad and a snowstorm was approaching.
The vehicle drove into the pitch-black road. Through the window, all I could see was an endless expanse of snow, occasionally illuminated by faint lights in the distance. In the passenger seat, Zhou Jing was examining a tablet.
According to satellite imagery, she said, our target location was an abandoned mining area. It had been used for uranium extraction during the Soviet era but was closed down due to an accident.
"Accident?" I asked.
"A major earthquake," Miho replied, "at least that's what the official records say. But in reality..." She pulled out a yellowed document from her bag: it was a secret file from the Shan Family. "In 1989, they established their third experimental base here. That so-called earthquake was actually caused by an experiment gone wrong."
"Gone wrong?"
"They were attempting a new extraction method," she said in a hushed tone. "Using radiation from uranium ore to enhance a certain substance in blood."
She didn't finish her thought. However, from the photographs in the document, it was evident that the accident had resulted in massive casualties. What was most disturbing were the injuries on the victims; they looked nothing like those caused by an earthquake or radiation.
Zhou Jing scrutinized the photos closely; the wounds appeared as if something had torn them apart.
"That's right," Miho confirmed. "They summoned something. But they quickly lost control of it. In the end, they had to seal off the entire area and claimed it was a nuclear leak."
"Then why did they choose this place to build their final altar?" I asked.
"Because this is a gateway," the Russian driver suddenly interjected, "a door to another realm."
It was then that I noticed a tattoo on his wrist—an emblem we had seen in Changling Village, a ritualistic symbol.
"You are Ivanov," he said, "a former KGB agent. In 1989, I witnessed that disaster firsthand. Since then, I have been investigating the truth behind this organization."
The vehicle turned onto a rugged mountain road. As we ascended in altitude, the snowstorm intensified. Yet through the swirling snowflakes, I caught a glimpse of a faint red light on a distant mountaintop.
"That’s it," Ivanov said. "The marker for the altar; they have begun preparations."
Miho opened a metal case revealing several specially designed handguns. "These are weapons specifically made to counter that kind of energy," she explained. "Remember, if you see anything resembling a blood vortex like Mount Fuji's, fire immediately."
"But at Mount Fuji, even bronze masks couldn't..."
"This is different," she interrupted me. "These bullets are made from special materials. The Soviets studied those uncontrollable experimental subjects and discovered that certain rare metals could suppress their powers."
The car suddenly came to a halt. The road ahead was blocked by heavy snow.
"We can only walk from here," Ivanov said, pointing towards the mountain peak. According to the intel, a shipment was scheduled to arrive tonight.
"Shipment?"
"Live specimens," his voice was filled with anger. "They are special blood type individuals collected from various realms. This time, the quantity is particularly large, seemingly for some important ritual."
Before he could finish, a sharp howl suddenly pierced the night sky. It wasn't the sound of the wind; it was the cry of some creature.
"Damn it!" Ivanov raised his gun. "They've begun!"
In the distance, a red light suddenly became blinding. The entire mountain seemed to tremble as the snow began to collapse. But what was most terrifying was that we saw a massive black silhouette rising from the mountaintop, blocking half of the sky.
"Oh God," Zhou Jing gasped.
It was a humanoid outline, but its size was unbelievably enormous. It appeared to be woven from countless blood-red threads, twisting and contorting in the blizzard.
What was even more frightening was that it seemed to sense our presence. That gigantic head slowly turned, and countless scarlet eyes opened, staring down at the snowy expanse.
"Hide!" Miho shouted.
But it was too late. A deafening roar echoed through the valley as the giant shadow lunged downwards. In that instant, we all saw its true form—a monster composed of numerous twisted human bodies, each face wearing a bronze mask.
And embedded in its chest was a massive symbol, an ancient mark identical to that on the altar of Changling Village.
Comment 0 Comment Count