From Apocalypse To Entertainment Circle (BL)-Chapter 152: The Monster

In one of the tents, the air inside was stale with chemical smells and the smell of blood. Some white-coated men were rushing to and fro, their hasty footsteps and constant rustling of the cloth betraying anxiety that was on the verge of eruption. They carried clipboards, data pads, and measuring instruments, but even as they worked diligently to appear calm, sweat seeped through their collars. Their eyes would flick, again and again, to the center of the tent.

There, in a fortified glass container, something stirred.

It was no common item of study. Its eyes were wild, savage, as a cornered wolf that has starved for many years. Its eyes burned with fury and hunger, twin burning coals of hate from a deformed face. With every breath it exhaled shuddered against the glass, a low, vicious snarl, as if to breathe was an act of protest against its handlers.

It would have already struck forward and rent them asunder had it not been for the glass between it and the men. The way its claws screeched against the glass, the way saliva flowed from its coarse maw—it was like seeing a nightmare try to find the smallest opening in reality to burst through.

One of the men finally broke the strangling quiet. His voice trembled as much as his hand, which held a radio transmitter—an odd, bulky device, clearly custom-designed. The kind that could not be jammed or tracked readily. The kind used when life and death were the stakes.

"Director," he declared, moistening dry lips, "everything is almost in place. When can we be extracted?"

His words were desperate, a muffled plea behind a veil of professionalism.

The others remained frozen for a moment, their eyes on him. It was something they had all wished to ask but had not been able to muster the courage to.

The researcher activated the button on the transmitter, speaking once more, but rapidly, as though repeating it over and over might anchor his survival. "Sir, everything is in place. All that remains is for the targets to arrive and fall right into the trap. So, I repeat myself—send in the helicopters. Get us out before you can no longer."

Static screamed across the line. Then nothing.

The endless silence.

The man swallowed hard, again trying to push. White-knuckled on the transmitter, his knuckles ached. "Sir? Do you copy? We require immediate extraction—"

At last, there was a response.

"Sorry, Researcher Kim," the voice droned, calm and measured. "Your position has already been breached. Currently, you’re surrounded. I’m not able to send anything to aid you."

The words hit him like a death warrant.

What?" His calm cracked, terror exploding in his chest. His breathing was rapid, his voice trembling with fear. "No, no—you can’t mean it. I’ve... I’ve worked for the organization for years! I’m a good researcher. My research, my findings—you know what I’ve done! I devoted my entire life to this work! You can’t just—

He was pleading now, desperation oozing like blood from an open cut. "Chief, please! Save me! I still have so much to give. My work—my work isn’t done! Without me, you’ll lose—"

The voice at the end cut him off with an icy laugh.

"You old fool."

Kim came to an abrupt halt. His heart thudded like a drum in his ears.

"You’re nothing but a decently intelligent brain. Our core research has always been conducted by our genuine experts. Of course, we protect them. But you? Your work was never without a price. You’ve already gained a lot from the organization. Now..."

The voice unflinching, dropping all masks of courtesy.

"Time to pay the price."

The phone call was over.

For a moment, the tent held its breath, the only noise Kim’s ragged breathing.

His knees trembled so violently that he nearly collapsed.

And the tent flap opened.

A figure entered.

The visitor’s face froze Researcher Kim’s throat. The words died there. His eyes protruded, his body recoiled as if looking upon this abomination was a capital crime.

Fear struck him so fiercely that heat streamed down his legs. He had wet himself.

The other ones felt the sudden tautness of the air, like the oxygen had been sucked out of the tent. They turned around, their faces bewildered.

"Wuh—" one of them began to say, but he never had the opportunity.

The shadow moved.

A flash of metal, a whoosh of air—and the tent became a butcherhouse.

In a matter of seconds, the white-robed men were nothing but heaps of corpses, their blood flowing into the earthy ground. No one even managed to scream.

"Disgusting," a voice snarled, harsh and rusty, as if metal screeching over rock. The man sneered at Kim, who was trembling, his skin pale, his lips shaking. The expression he received in turn was not sympathy, but disdain. As if the man looked upon something rotting insect.

Then his gaze shifted.

To the glass jar.

The monster inside its mouth snapped its teeth, a wild grin of fury and starvation. Its eyes glowed like it was seeing freedom teasingly out of reach.

The man smiled—a ruthless, intentional curling of lips.

In one stroke, the glass shattered, pieces darting like knives through the air.

The monster bellowed, a roar that shivered the tent poles and shattered Kim’s eardrums. Freedom surged through its tremendous bulk, its claws slashing at the air, its hot breath spewing steam with uncontrollable rage.

The man didn’t delay. He jerked Kim—already whining, already broken almost beyond repair—throwing him like garbage into the beast’s eager claws.

There was a crunch. A scream that took less than a heartbeat.

And then silence, broken only by the wet tearing of flesh as the monster consumed its victim.

When the monster finished, the dark man had already vanished, slipping into the darkness behind the tent.

The beast ate.

---

Meanwhile, not far from camp, Lan lay low behind a ridge, with practiced hand signals calling his men to him. They were mere moments away from making their attack.

With him, Kira and Sian crept, carrying little more than one gun and one knife between them. They had little equipment, but both of them were quiet with determination.

Kira scanned the road before her, taking in every shadow, every twitch of movement. Her thoughts were as sharp as a razor. She did not let herself have so much as a second of distraction.

Sian’s expression, though, grew blacker with each step. The folds of his face grew furrowed, his eyes blazed not to the ground, but to the horizon. He felt it—a presence in the air, as if the sky itself were paused, holding its breath.

Something terrible was going to happen.

And Sian’s sixth sense never lied.

Unfortunately.

Before they could even make it to the edge of the camp, the night was rent apart by screams.

Shrieking, frozen, desperate screams.

Pandemonium broke loose inside the camp. Women and men of every age blindly ran, bumping into tents, into fences, into each other, their cries echoing into the night. It was no organized retreat—it was that kind of mindless running caused by blind fear.

But few lived long enough to run very far.

In the midst of the bedlam was something vile.

Nearly three meters tall, it loomed over the scattering of humans. Its torso was an ugly papyrus of twisted muscle and weeping ulcers, its face so twisted that it was impossible to tell where its eyes began and ended. Flesh sagged loose and torn, covered in blood both old and new.

The monster wore no clothes. No armor. Just its own loathsome, festering flesh.

With one foot, it stamped upon a man, splintering bone like dry twigs. With one great claw, it ripped through the back of a fleeing woman, splitting her spine in two and bisecting her body into two slack halves. Others it grabbed by the skull, smashing their heads against the earth until pulp was all that remained.

It was not killing to feed. It was killing to slay.

Lan and his soldiers tensed. They had seen death before—hundreds of times. They were hardened veterans, used to butchery. But this. This was another thing entirely.

This was not a man.

This was a demon.

Raised straight out of the depths of hell and loosed upon the world.

"God almighty." one of the soldiers whispered, shaking. "What is that creature?"

No one answered. Because no one had words.

Even the strongest of them had their bravery broken. Guns, knives, grenades—all meaningless against an evil that shouldn’t exist.

"Don’t just stand there!" Sian yelled, his voice cutting through their paralyzed fear. "Move! We have to block it off—kill it—before it gets too strong!"

Lan’s eyes flashed to him, accusing and furious. "What do you mean, gets too strong?"

But before Sian could respond, the monster hunched.

Among its shredded bodies, it stabbed its claws into the bodies of its victims. And then...

The bodies began to dissolve.

Skin, bone, and blood blended into the body of the creature, disappearing into its huge mass. The beast shook, then roared as its muscles bulged, its form distorting into something worse.

It was eating them.

Feasting on their essence.

And doing it swiftly.

Too swiftly.

Before her, the monster doubled in size. The claws lengthened, the jaw more open, its skin creaking to fit the bulge of monstrous growth within.

Kira clenched her teeth, a bitter smile playing on her lips despite the fear.

"These devilish creatures." she snarled at the darkness.

It was only just darkfall—and already, it was turning into a massacre.