VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Chapter 89

The stench of copper was overwhelming. A warm, crimson liquid soaked her face, down her lab coat, forming a puddle beneath her. Her whole body was quivering, every muscle aching with tension, fear, and exhaustion. Everything had just gone downhill in a steep decline ever since martial law had been declared by Jonathan Obaseki and his claims.

Gwen was sickened at the thought of it, knowing that her daughter had been involved with that crowd. She'd never trusted monsters, not from the comfort of Savory, and certainly not from seeing them up close in Voxis. They irked her, rubbed her the wrong way, and made her uncomfortable. They were an affront to nature, she felt. They were something that shouldn't exist. That didn't even compare to what she was experiencing right now. The man that stood before her wasn't a monster - but she didn't think he was human either. His eyes were like coals, blacker than black, his skin seemed to sag in places, like it was some kind of suit or costume, concealing something much darker underneath. The dead giveaway, however, were the two horns curling out of his forehead, the skin around their base ripped apart, and a black fluid had leaked down the man's face before drying. He was grinning back at her with an inhuman gaze, his red hair seeming to be falling out in patches, his bared fangs much longer and much sharper than anything natural. Just the sight of him was enough to make her blood freeze and her breath hitch.

"You've been such a doll," he spoke, his voice almost breathless, drifting into her ears, worming into her brain. It was cold, a voice that sounded strange, like something pretending to sound human, using a voice box like a tool. "You're a doctor, right?" His eyes seemed to flit up and down, taking her in. "Tell me, how bad is it?"

"I-I-I don't k-know w-what—"

"W-W-What do you mean?" The man's shrill voice seemed to amplify in volume as he took on a mocking tone. "Stuttering Stacy can't tell that I'm just bursting out of my seams?"

She swallowed, unsure of what to say. She wasn't certain if anything she could say would appease this man - this creature. Even as he spoke, some of his skin seemed to tear along his forearm, a black mass flexing underneath, and more of the ebony liquid oozed out, some dripping onto the floor. He noticed her staring at it, and cocked his head to the side. "Do I scare you?" he asked, taking a step closer, raising a hand slowly up, revealing his nails, which appeared to have been replaced with talons.

He came to a stop mere inches in front of her. She could smell his breath, a putrid stench, like rotten flesh. She felt his index talon sliding gently across her throat as the unnaturally wide grin of the man seemed to stretch further. "Do I terrify you?" He breathed in deeply, his talon pressing a little harder against her throat. "Mmmmm . . . I can smell your fear. It's intoxicating."

Gwen winced as he pulled away from her, but he did not kill her. Not yet, at least. He let out a bone-chilling laugh, throwing his head back. "Oh, I do love you humans. So much better than anything else. SOULs are a delicacy, more abundant in monsters, but nothing compares to the flesh of man. The heart, in particular, is very pleasing . . ."

When martial law had been declared, Gwen had tried her best to keep Racilla Hospital operating as best as it could be, but many of the staff fled. Phone lines were cut, service was down, she couldn't get ahold of her daughters, and in only 24 hours, she was one of three doctors still in the hospital, with over a hundred patients to look after, and virtually no staff to back them. It was hell, yet inexplicably, this beast had arrived and turned hell into something she now craved. It had to be better than this.

This creature had showed up and laid waste to any living thing it could find. There was no rhyme or reason, it did not state its intentions or goals, it just mercilessly killed. Room by room it went, murdering human after human. Those that stood up to it were ripped apart, the few guards and security that had remained. Those that cowered in fear were given a quick death. Then there was her. She had done neither. Gwen had tried to get what people she could to safety, but when the beast had collapsed every possible exit she'd exhausted, they'd taken refuge in the basement. That had been several hours ago. Now she was all that remained. The people she'd tried to save were piled behind her in a mass of bodies, and she was fully aware she'd be joining them. Fully aware that this horrible creature was just toying with her.

"W-Why are y-you doing this . . ." she managed out with some difficulty, and the man raised a brow at her, eyeing her with waning, vague interest, before he blinked.

"It's not about you, just so you know," he stated. "It's about sending a message. About upsetting someone. This carnage has purpose, it shall invigorate my enemy further, blinding her with rage and vengeance. You are just a small part of a larger plan, but when the time comes, I will stand victorious over the only one who can best me. Then? The real work finally begins . . ." He leaned in again at this, sliding a talon down her cheek, before he pricked the skin. Blood began to swell at the cut, and his mouth seemed to water at the sight.

If only to spare her life, maybe to buy her enough time for some distant help to arrive, she spoke again to try and distract the man. "Real w-work?" she asked, her mouth dry. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing much," he waved a hand dismissively, though his eyes narrowed at her. "Just a few global renovations is all." He once again grew uncomfortably close to her, eyeing the blood on her cheek. Fresh and clean, unlike the blood already covering her, which belonged to the people he'd slaughtered in this room over an hour ago. "Your daughter, Sadie," his eyes returned to looking at her own, as opposed to her blood. "Youth is often sweeter than maturity. She looks remarkably like you. I wonder if you'll taste the same . . ."

"Please—" Gwen began, but the beast was quick to cut her off.

"Don't beg for your life or hers," his voice had gone completely flat, and much colder than before. "It's nothing personal. A man's gotta eat . . . and you're the perfect person to deliver my message." The distance between them closed completely before the woman could even register that her life had been snuffed out.

Only a few minutes later, Demon lifted a finger from a note in his hand, writing in Gwen's blood.

'His eyes are green,' the note read. Satisfied, Demon tossed it down on the body of the woman he'd just slain. With that, the man pulled a phone from his pocket, but paused with a groan, his legs seemed to grow as several bones began to crack, and his horns extended further from his scalp. It was only a few seconds, but once this "transformation" was complete, Demon stood nearly a foot taller than before, and his body seemed to have enlarged a bit, more of his skin ripping open, like violently shedding skin. Once it was over, he brought the phone to his ear. "Racilla Hospital. There's a mess to clean up. Don't touch the basement." He said, before hanging up and stashing the device away.

"Mother," Demon growled out, taking in a deep breath, savoring the growing stench of death. "It's almost time."

With that, he departed from the scene of carnage as his body seemed to stretch more, and he grew one step closer to fulfilling his grand scheme.