Gurgle, squelch…
Suddenly, the monster’s back began to writhe violently.
With a loud rip, its tattered coat tore open as a pair of grotesque, bat-like flesh wings burst from its shoulder blades and unfurled!
Whoosh!
The monster flapped its massive new wings, and its towering body instantly rocketed into the sky, soaring dozens of meters into the air in the blink of an eye.
Diluc’s eyes narrowed into a fierce glare.
He tightened his grip on the Blackcliff Slasher, roaring flames gathering furiously along the heavy blade.
“Stay exactly where you are.”
BOOM!
Diluc hurled the massive claymore!
The burning weapon transformed into a crimson meteor, instantly piercing clean through the monster’s right wing.
The fleshy wing carbonized and snapped under the searing heat.
The monster let out a bloodcurdling wail as it plummeted straight down from the sky!
CRASH!!!
It slammed into the asphalt, leaving a deep crater with spiderweb-like cracks spreading outward.
The creature lay paralyzed in the pit, its ruined wing twitching sporadically in the dirt.
Swoosh!
Diluc raised his hand.
The Blackcliff Slasher traced a burning path through the air, flying right back into his waiting grasp.
The monster struggled, dragging its broken body agonizingly toward the rusted truck.
Thud!
Inside the truck bed lay over a dozen corpses wrapped in white sheets.
The monster yanked the closest one toward itself.
The white sheet slipped away, revealing the deathly pale face of a young man.
His eyes were milky and hollow, and dried blood caked the corners of his mouth.
He had clearly been dead for quite some time.
Crunch, crunch…
The monster grabbed the corpse, unhinged its massive jaw, and viciously bit down.
Its sharp fangs tore open the young man’s throat, swallowing the cold flesh in gross, savage gulps.
Gulp, gulp…
As the meat slid into its stomach, the monster’s charred skin began to wriggle, its horrific wounds healing at a visible rate.
Gross, fleshy buds sprouted rapidly from the stump of its severed wing.
“Disgusting.” Diluc’s brow furrowed in deep revulsion, and the flames on the Blackcliff Slasher flared even hotter.
His figure blurred like a passing flame, his blade aimed straight for the monster’s head!
But the creature reacted incredibly fast, shoving the half-eaten corpse up as a makeshift shield.
Schlick!
The claymore cleaved the body perfectly in half.
Before any organs or black blood could even spill out, they were instantly carbonized by the roaring flames.
Slash!
However, the blade’s momentum didn’t slow in the slightest.
It tore a horrifying gash across the monster’s chest, dragging all the way from its collarbone down to its waist, nearly splitting the creature in two!
“Roar—!!”
The monster wailed in pure agony and dropped to its knees, yet it still frantically shoved pieces of the bisected corpse into its mouth. The source of this chapter is novelping.com.
With more meat in its belly, the massive chest wound knit together again, and its wing regenerated to about seventy percent of its original size.
But it didn’t try to counterattack.
Instead, it turned and bolted!
Its mangled wings flapped desperately, but they could only whip up a foul-smelling breeze, forcing it to stumble clumsily toward the deep woods on foot.
“A dying struggle.”
Gripping the hilt with one hand, Diluc let the scorching Pyro energy boil over the blade.
Once it reached a critical threshold, he swung the claymore through the air!
BOOM!
In an instant, a massive wave of crimson fire ripped through the night sky, completely distorting the air in its path.
The blistering inferno swallowed the monster whole!
Within the roaring flames, its body melted like wax.
Its skin rapidly carbonized and peeled away, and its bones shattered under the extreme heat.
It only had time to let out one short, pathetic wail before it was reduced to a pile of charred ash, swiftly scattered by the night wind.
Diluc casually tossed the Blackcliff Slasher aside, and the dark red claymore dissipated into a burst of glowing particles.
He turned and walked back toward the stunned siblings.
Trish’s lips were trembling violently, while Darry stared unblinkingly at the pile of ashes, terrified it might suddenly reform.
Diluc looked down at them.
“Did you call the police?”
“Our p-phones are broken,” Darry stammered, pointing a shaking finger toward the burning wreckage of their car.
Diluc frowned slightly.
He glanced over at the parked truck on the shoulder.
“There are a lot of bodies in that truck.
You can probably find a working phone on one of them.
Or, you could just take the truck.”
As he spoke, he tossed them a set of keys.
Trish caught them.
The metal felt cold and sticky, seemingly caked in years of dried blood.
Forcing down her nausea, she looked at Diluc with desperate hope.
“Are you… are you not coming with us?”
Diluc was already turning away, stepping into the shadows as the tails of his coat brushed past a final scattering of sparks.
“There is no need.”
And with that, he vanished completely into the depths of the woods, almost as if he had never been there at all.
Clutching the bloodstained keys, Trish stood on the side of the road with Darry, both of them paralyzed by indecision.
Rummage through corpses to find a phone?
The mere thought was enough to make them gag.
Drive a truck loaded with dead bodies?
Just being near the thing sent chills down their spines.
“Why don’t we… try to hitch a ride?” Darry suggested quietly, his eyes darting toward the end of the highway.
Right as he spoke, headlights pierced the darkness in the distance. Find the original chapter at g.com.
A convoy of five black SUVs was speeding toward them, their bright lights forming a solid ribbon in the night.
Trish and Darry exchanged a desperate glance and sprinted toward the edge of the road, waving their arms frantically.
“Help!
Somebody help us!”
But before they could even reach the center of the lane, the convoy slowed down, pulling over in a neat line about fifty feet away.
Click, clack…
The doors swung open in unison.
A squad of heavily armed tactical operatives dressed in matching black combat gear quickly piled out, sweeping their muzzles around to secure the area.
Trish and Darry froze.
The fleeting spark of hope was instantly replaced by a fresh wave of terror.
‘These guys definitely aren’t regular cops!’
Just then, a middle-aged man in a sharp black suit stepped out of the lead SUV.
With his upright posture, elegant demeanor, and noticeably receding hairline, he looked much more like a college professor than a tactical commander.
He raised a hand, signaling his team to lower their weapons, and walked toward the siblings.
Pulling a badge from his inner breast pocket, he flashed it.
“Good evening to you both.
I’m FBI Agent John McCain.
What happened here?”
His voice was steady and gentle, instantly putting people at ease.
Hearing “FBI,” the tense nerves of the siblings finally snapped, giving way to immense relief.
Trish was practically crying as she babbled wildly, her hands flying everywhere to explain the night’s horrors.
“W-we were attacked by a monster!
It was driving that truck, and it tried to run us off the road, and then it tried to kill us!”
Agent McCain frowned slightly, but his expression remained perfectly calm.
“A monster?”
After listening to the siblings recount the chaotic events, Agent McCain had a pretty solid grasp of the situation.
“Thank you both for your cooperation,” he said smoothly.
“I’ll arrange a vehicle to take you back immediately.
However, I must remind you that tonight’s events are a matter of national security.
Until this case is officially declassified, I’m going to have to ask you not to discuss these details with anyone.”
With that, he waved a team member over.
“Take them to the nearest precinct, and make sure you arrange for a doctor to give them a thorough checkup.”
The siblings exchanged a glance and nodded obediently.
Honestly, they wanted nothing more than to forget this entire nightmare as quickly as humanly possible.
Watching the SUV drive off with the siblings, the gentle smile on McCain’s face vanished instantly.
He strode briskly toward the rusted truck.
Two agents had already pulled the rear doors open, and the bright beams of their flashlights illuminated the white-sheet-wrapped corpses in the bed.
McCain’s eyes darkened.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and dialed an unsaved number.
As soon as the call connected, he spoke a single sentence.
“Boss, it’s me.
Coulson…”