đźš© Red is my favorite color.
đźš© That's why there's so much bloodshed.
đźš© Nothing much beyond that.
đźš© Your blood is calling to me.
The dense forest stretched as far as the eye could see, fading into the horizon like a dark blur. From the depths of the wilderness came the horrifying cries of wild beasts. A man ran desperately along the narrow road engulfed in darkness. Tall rows of thick trees stood on both sides, appearing to touch the sky under the shadowy night.
A cold wind blew through the forest, yet despite the freezing air, sweat poured from the trembling man's body. His terror had long surpassed the cold. Drops of sweat fell from his skin and mixed with the muddy earth beneath his feet. Those dreadful words kept echoing in his mind, tearing through his brain, nerves, and hearing like sharp blades.
Even in the suffocating silence, the sound of his heavy breathing could be heard clearly. It revealed everything—the fear devouring him from within. The fear of death.
He ran beyond the faint glow of the streetlamps, deeper into the forest, chasing the slightest chance of survival. The winding road between the dense trees looked like a death trap. His terrified eyes ignored everything around him as he ran without stopping. Though he stumbled countless times on the uneven road, he refused to stop. His expression was filled with anxiety and panic, but the desperate desire to live burned fiercely inside him.
Suddenly, he spotted a car ahead.
A spark of hope lit up in his chest.
He stopped a short distance away, leaning on his knees as he gasped for air. Sweat streamed down his body. His pounding heartbeat slowly became bearable. Guided by the car's headlights, he forced his numb legs forward, clinging to the hope of survival.
Then the entire area lit up.
Golden lights flooded the darkness.
One after another, black Mercedes-Benz vehicles emerged from the forest and surrounded him, blocking every possible escape. The scene changed instantly. The roar of engines shook the air. The man covered his ears, his spine turning cold as something wet slid down his back. His body trembled violently, his frightened eyes fixed on the car in front.
It was the final hour of the night. Even the nocturnal birds had gone silent. The damp forest stood still, yet many were hidden within it. Still, the only sound was the man's ragged breathing.
Then the headlights of the front car turned on.
A figure sitting on a folding lawn chair appeared.
The person was dressed entirely in black. Their fists were clenched, their gaze fixed on the muddy ground. Long hair fell downward, revealing a bow-shaped tattoo beneath one ear. Both ears were pierced multiple times—six in total. A dragon tattoo covered one hand, while Italian words were inked across the other arm.
Suddenly, a disgusting laugh shattered the silence.
The rough, harsh laughter sent chills through the man's chest. Guards dressed in black stepped out of the cars and surrounded him. Every one of them carried foreign firearms. Two strong men approached and stood beside the seated figure.
One was dark-skinned and bald, his head glistening under the headlights. He was heavily built, resembling a Tamil wrestler. The other was his complete opposite—tall, pale, and clearly foreign.
Then the person in black raised their head.
Deep blue eyes burned like flames, filled with uncontrollable fury.
The man collapsed to his knees instantly, folding his hands in fear. His body shook so violently that he could barely balance himself. When all the guards loaded their weapons at once, the sound alone made him fall flat to the ground. He began sobbing uncontrollably.
The seated figure spoke.
"Welcome to my parasite."
Those words shattered the man's mind.
He looked up weakly, staring at the one he believed to be death itself. The person sat comfortably, one leg crossed over the other, watching him with electric intensity. Their face was sharp, foreign yet carrying faint traces of local blood. A scar cut diagonally across one cheek. Their black lips curved into a sinister smile, stained by years of cigarettes.
With a simple gesture, two guards dragged the man forward and forced him to kneel.
His voice broke as he cried.
"Who are you? What have I done?"
He gasped, begging again.
"Please let me go. My daughter's wedding is tomorrow."
The figure only laughed.
A brutal, merciless laugh.
Then they suddenly grabbed the man's hand and growled like a beast.
"Do you want to know who I am?"
The man trembled.
"Yes… I want to live."
The figure's smile deepened.
Then they whispered in Italian.
"La tua morte."
Your death.
Before he could understand, the pale man handed over a glass vial. The cap opened. Hot fumes rose from inside.
The figure tilted the bottle.
The acid poured onto the man's hand.
His scream ripped through the forest. Birds flew from the trees in terror. The guards covered their ears. Only three people remained expressionless.
The acid was Fluoroantimonic acid — the strongest acid ever discovered.
His flesh began melting instantly. Skin and muscle dissolved into the mud. Soon, the bone in his hand became visible. His screams weakened. His body went limp.
The figure gave a silent signal.
The dark man stepped forward, gripped the victim's head with both hands, and with a single brutal twist—
ripped it from his body.
Warm blood sprayed across the pale face of the monster.
The figure calmly wiped the blood away with tissue and stared at the corpse for a long moment before standing.
Then, in a cold voice, they ordered—
"Pack the body beautifully. Send it."
The pale assistant checked an iPad and said,
"Boss, the flight is at six. The local team will handle the rest."
The figure said nothing.
They stepped into the car.
As the engine started, the figure spoke again, voice dark as thunder—
"This time, I'll finish every single one with my own hands."
To be continue....?