The hallway crackled with the raw energy of a violent storm, thunder rumbling deep within the walls as flashes of lightning illuminated the twisted scene. It was as if nature itself had been summoned to mirror the chaos Frank was about to unleash. His once ever-present smile began to slip, replaced by a darker, more sinister expression, betraying the calm facade he'd worn for so long. The mask was crumbling, revealing the true monster beneath—a predator who had hidden in plain sight, now freed from the burden of pretense.
Frank's eyes glimmered with cold amusement as he observed the trembling agents before him, their faces pale with terror. His voice, though soft, carried an eerie finality. "What a shame," he muttered, his gaze sweeping over the horrified men and women who had once been his tormentors. "It seems I can't free you from the hypnosis... Guess I’ll have to put you out of your misery.”
He knew full well they were no longer under Hypnotist’s control, their sudden awareness of the danger sinking in too late. But that didn't matter. Frank had no intention of sparing them, regardless of their newfound clarity. He reveled in their fear, knowing he could kill without consequence for the first time in years.
Electricity crackled around him as he took a deliberate step forward, his eyes glowing with the anticipation of bloodshed. His power surged, filling the air with the scent of ozone and charred flesh, as his victims helplessly awaited the inevitable slaughter.
Frank's eyes glimmered with a deadly intent as sparks crackled around his body. Thunder rumbled in sync with his growing rage, and arcs of electricity danced across the hallway like serpents hunting their prey. The air became thick with tension as Frank raised his hand, summoning a storm that seemed alive with malice.
The first crack of lightning struck with terrifying precision, piercing through one of the A.E.G.I.S members, their body convulsing violently as electricity surged through them. The scent of burning flesh filled the air, mixing with the ozone from the lightning. Before anyone could react, another bolt flashed, this time arcing between three agents, their screams cut short as their bodies were reduced to charred husks.
Frank moved like a conductor orchestrating a deadly symphony. With a wave of his hand, jagged bolts of electricity tore through the air, ripping into the agents. Their armor was useless against the sheer force of the storm he had conjured. One by one, they fell, their bodies writhing and twitching as the electricity consumed them.
He casually snapped his fingers, and a series of smaller, precise strikes hit the majority of the remaining agents, targeting their hearts and heads, ending their lives in an instant. The storm inside the hallway intensified for a brief moment, then faded as the last of the A.E.G.I.S members collapsed, smoke rising from their lifeless forms.
“Pathetic,” Frank muttered under his breath, his voice a chilling whisper amidst the chaos. His eyes, cold and calculating, surveyed the aftermath of the devastation with an unsettling calm. Scattered around him, a handful of surviving agents struggled to regroup, their faces etched with fear and desperation. Among them, Reid, a seasoned Awakened in his fifties, whose eyes reflected the stark reality of their dire situation, led the remnants of the group.
Caught in a three-way standoff between Frank and Hypnotist, the agents were painfully aware of the overwhelming threat Frank posed. Many of them had once relished in inflicting harassment and targeting Frank, their previous cruelty now turned against them. As they huddled together, the grim realization set in, Frank was the true danger they faced.
As the last remaining agents gathered around Reid, Hypnotist, with her hood now partially torn away, desperately tried to reassert control. Her eyes, once sharp and unyielding, were now clouded with strain as she tried to combat the backlash of her own power, which had been disrupted by Frank's relentless assault.
With a wave of her hand, Hypnotist’s influence surged once more, her powers struggling to reassert control over the disoriented agents. The surviving agents’ eyes flickered between clarity and confusion as they hesitated, caught between their instincts and Hypnotist's faltering commands.
Reid, fully aware of the shifting dynamics, faced Frank with grim resolve. His body tensed, ready for the confrontation. The older agent’s ability would be crucial in this fight. He had seen Frank’s brutality firsthand and knew that any lapse in defense could be fatal.
Frank’s expression remained a mask of cold indifference as he locked eyes with Reid. With a sudden, fluid motion, he summoned a crackling bolt of electricity that arced through the air, heading straight for Reid. The blast surged with violent energy, but Reid’s ability flared to life. He braced himself, his aura flaring as he negated the impact of the attack, the lightning dispersing harmlessly around him.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Reid growled, his voice carrying the weight of his experience. He thrust his hand forward, sending a concentrated burst of air toward Frank, aiming to exploit any potential weakness.
Frank sidestepped the attack with effortless agility, his smile unwavering. “You think you can challenge me with your tricks?” he taunted. His eyes flashed with a dangerous glint as he prepared another strike, the air around him crackling with volatile energy.
As Frank’s electrical energy crackled dangerously, Reid’s focus was intense, his every move calculated to counter Frank’s attacks. The two clashed in a series of rapid exchanges, Frank’s relentless barrage of lightning meeting Reid’s expertly managed defenses. Reid’s ability allowed him to shift the force of Frank’s attacks, either absorbing the energy or redirecting it, making it difficult for Frank to land a decisive blow.
Hypnotist, meanwhile, was struggling to maintain control over the wavering agents. Their confusion grew as her power flickered, and she was forced to exert more effort to keep them in check. With each failed attempt to regain full control, her frustration mounted, adding to the chaos of the scene.
Reid’s determination was unwavering as he deflected another powerful surge of electricity from Frank, his aura shimmering with the strain of maintaining his defensive abilities. “You’re going to have to do better than that,” Reid challenged, his voice steady despite the immense pressure.
Frank's patience was wearing thin. The battle had dragged on longer than he anticipated, and the persistent annoyance of Reid's defenses was testing his composure. The agents, caught in the turmoil of Hypnotist’s faltering control and Frank’s relentless assault, were now mere spectators to the climax of this brutal showdown.
Reid, battered and weary, struggled to keep up with Frank’s relentless assault. His attempts to deflect the lightning strikes were becoming increasingly desperate, and sweat dripped from his brow as he tried to maintain his balance. The force of Frank’s attacks was unyielding, and Reid's aura was beginning to falter under the pressure.
Frank’s eyes flashed with a dangerous glint, irritation evident in his cold expression. He was done with games. With a low growl, he dismissed the storm of electricity, his focus shifting to a more direct approach. His body shifted, and a sinister grin spread across his face as he extended his arm.
The air around Frank seemed to warp as his arm began to elongate and transform, morphing into a massive, gaping maw with rows of jagged teeth. The monstrous mouth snarled and writhed, dripping with a dark, viscous substance that hissed and sizzled with energy.
Reid's eyes widened in shock as he saw the horrifying transformation. He tried to brace himself, but the sheer scale and force of the mouth made it impossible to evade. Frank closed the distance in a heartbeat, his mouth-arm snapping open with terrifying speed.
The maw lunged toward Reid, engulfing him in a horrifying display of power. The teeth closed around him with a sickening crunch, and the crushing force of the mouth was overwhelming. Reid’s scream was swallowed by the maw, his body crushed with a brutal finality.
The sound of bones snapping and the squelching of flesh echoed through the hallway. Frank's arm retracted, the monstrous mouth now slick with dark, viscous blood. He looked down at the remnants with an air of detached satisfaction, the fight having ended in a gruesome display of raw power.
Hypnotist, witnessing the brutal end, staggered back, her face pale with horror and disbelief. The surrounding agents, now free from the hypnosis but still reeling from the chaos, watched in stunned silence.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Frank wiped his hand clean, his expression returning to its usual calm demeanor. He glanced around at the scene of devastation with a cold, indifferent gaze, his patience finally exhausted. “Pathetic,” he muttered under his breath again, his voice laced with disdain.
The hallway echoed with the hollow sound of dripping blood, bodies crumpled and lifeless, while the few remaining A.E.G.I.S agents stood frozen in horror, trapped between the ruins of their comrades and the monster that loomed before them. Frank stood in the center of the carnage, his calm expression betraying none of the brutality he was about to unleash. His arm, slick with Reid’s blood, twitched, and then began to shift, his flesh rippling and contorting into grotesque, nightmarish shapes.
"Now… where were we?" Frank's voice was soft, almost casual, as if the slaughter he had just committed was no more than an afterthought.
One agent, trembling, fired a round of bullets at him, but Frank didn’t flinch. The bullets ripped through his flesh, but his wounds healed instantly, leaving nothing behind but faint traces of blood. With a slow, deliberate motion, Frank extended his arm once more, the flesh twisting and turning into a nightmarish tendril. The tendril lashed out like a whip, cutting through the air with a sickening hiss. It wrapped around the first agent’s body, coiling tightly like a serpent before it constricted.
With a sharp, violent tug, the tendril tore the agent in half. Blood sprayed across the walls, coating the once sterile hallway in a thick, crimson mist. The agent’s screams were short, ending abruptly as their body split cleanly in two, their lower half collapsing in a heap of gore while their upper half was tossed aside like discarded meat.
Another agent, desperate to flee, stumbled backward, but Frank’s other arm had already begun to morph. This time, it wasn’t a tendril. Instead, it became a massive, gaping maw, lined with rows of jagged teeth dripping with saliva and blood. The monstrous mouth lunged forward, catching the retreating agent in its jaws. With a sickening crunch, Frank's mouth-arm bit down, tearing the agent apart at the waist. The sounds of bones cracking and flesh ripping filled the air, followed by a wet, meaty thud as the lifeless torso was spat out onto the floor, leaving behind a pool of viscera.
The remaining agents barely had time to react. Frank’s other arm, not content with one form of brutality, elongated into a series of writhing tendrils, each tipped with sharp, blade-like edges. They lashed out like deadly whips, slicing through the agents with lethal precision. One agent’s head flew from their shoulders in an arc of blood, their body crumpling before they could even register what had happened. Another was impaled through the chest, lifted off the ground by the tendril before being flung against the wall with bone-shattering force. Their body collapsed in a heap, leaving a smear of blood down the wall as they slumped to the floor.
The final agent stood paralyzed, too horrified to move. Frank, his face calm and serene, walked slowly toward them, his steps deliberate. As he reached them, his arm transformed once more into that nightmarish maw. The agent's wide eyes reflected the terror of what was coming, but they could do nothing to stop it. Frank grabbed them by the throat and lifted them into the air. The maw stretched open impossibly wide, and with one final, horrific crunch, it bit down, tearing the agent's head clean from their shoulders. Blood gushed from the neck like a fountain, painting the walls and floor in a macabre display of crimson.
All that remained was Hypnotist, standing frozen in place, her mind reeling from the carnage she had just witnessed. The once-steely facade that held control over her puppets had shattered, leaving only wide-eyed terror in its wake. Blood soaked the floor, bodies of her former allies lay in twisted, mangled heaps, and the scent of death hung thick in the air like a suffocating blanket.
Frank turned toward her, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. His smile was soft, almost friendly, but in the dim light of the bloodstained hallway, it was more monstrous than any of the horrors he had unleashed.
“Thank you for waiting your turn,” he said casually, his voice dripping with mock politeness. The smile never faltered, and yet it was that very calmness that filled Hypnotist with a cold, creeping dread.
Her body trembled uncontrollably as she took an involuntary step backward, but there was nowhere to run. The walls felt as though they were closing in, pressing the suffocating reality of the situation tighter and tighter around her. Frank’s calm, collected demeanor only made her fear worse. His disinterest, his ease in reducing the others to little more than meat and bones, he wasn’t just a killer. He was something far worse.
“I almost feel bad for the janitor,” Frank continued, his voice almost whimsical, as if discussing an inconvenience rather than the massacre he had just committed. “That poor soul has to clean up this mess. You know, he was actually pretty nice to me.” He spoke with an eerie nostalgia, as if reminiscing about an old friend.
“He would often chat with me after bringing Bjorn Jr. some treats,” Frank added with a tilt of his head, his gaze distant for a moment, as though recalling something pleasant. Then his eyes locked onto hers, cold and unfeeling once again. “Such a shame he’ll be cleaning your blood next.”
Hypnotist’s breath hitched in her throat, her heart pounding as she tried to steady herself. She opened her mouth to speak, to plead, but no sound came out. Frank was still smiling, his hands now bloodstained and dripping, yet his posture was casual, almost like they were having a normal conversation.
But there was nothing normal about Frank. Nothing human. And as Hypnotist stood there, the weight of that realization crushed whatever fleeting hope remained.
Hypnotist's breath quickened as sheer terror consumed her, and the walls of her sanity began to crumble. Her mind, once sharp and controlled, now gave way to a rising storm of madness. Her body convulsed violently, as if something deep within her was breaking free, no longer bound by reason or control. Her skin grew pale, veins darkening into an unnatural hue, while her muscles twitched uncontrollably.
With a guttural scream, her form began to twist and contort. Flesh morphed into vines, sinew stretching into bark. Her arms elongated, curling into branches that clawed at the walls, her legs rooted into the ground, intertwining with the floor as thick roots spread outward like tendrils of a monstrous tree. The room groaned under the weight of her transformation, the sound of cracking wood and snapping bones echoing through the bloodstained corridor.
Her body was no longer recognizable—her human form swallowed by the frenzied mass of plant matter as she grew larger, overtaking the entire space. The ceiling strained under her immense size, vines snaking across the walls like tendrils of a nightmare. The air grew thick with the scent of sap and rot as her grotesque evolution reached its peak.
At the heart of this monstrous tree, suspended among twisting branches, floated a massive, pulsating brain. The sight was both awe-inspiring and horrifying, veins bulging as it throbbed with psychic energy. Branches and roots coiled protectively around it like a dark halo, thick and unyielding, as though guarding the central seat of her newfound consciousness.
From the brain, dozens of glowing, spectral eyes materialized, hovering around her in an eerie swarm. They blinked in unison, fixated on Frank with a piercing gaze that followed his every move. The eyes watched him intently, glowing with malevolent intelligence, their unblinking stares filled with both fear and malice. They were countless, surrounding him like a living entity of their own, a grotesque halo of vision.
The hallway was now more jungle than structure, the thick roots digging into the walls and floor, pulsating as if alive, the grotesque tree-mind breathing with a chaotic rhythm. Hypnotist, or what was left of her, no longer spoke with words. Her transformation had silenced her screams—replaced them with the unrelenting psychic pressure that bore down on Frank. The madness she had fallen into now radiated outward, palpable, as if the very atmosphere had turned against him.
Frank sighed, rubbing his temple as he glanced at the grotesque, writhing form of Hypnotist, now transformed into a towering, living nightmare. The maddening swirl of roots and branches that consumed the hallway irritated him more than it intimidated him.
“It's been so long since I’ve killed an Awakened, I almost forgot how inconvenient they can be,” he muttered under his breath, watching the pulsating brain at the heart of the twisted tree. “Of course, she turned into a damn frenzied.”
He cast a brief glance down at Bjorn Jr., who stood dutifully by his side, tail wagging in an innocent, oblivious manner. “Go back to the room, Bjorn Jr.,” Frank instructed, his voice unnervingly calm despite the surrounding chaos. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
The dog obeyed without hesitation, retreating down the blood-splattered corridor toward Frank’s office. With a faint, pleased smile, Frank turned his attention back to the warped form of Hypnotist, his brow furrowing slightly as the surrounding air shifted.
The brain at the center of the mass throbbed violently, and a shimmering projection materialized before him. Frank’s eyes widened for a brief moment as the image took shape, a girl, no older than fourteen, stood before him. She had long brown hair that clung wetly to her pale face, her brown eyes wide and filled with sorrow. She wore a yellow rain jacket, now darkened with blood, which seeped slowly from a deep, jagged wound in her abdomen. Her tear-streaked face was frozen in an expression of pain and fear as the faint illusion of rain fell around her, the droplets vanishing before they could touch the floor.
“S-Sarah…” Frank’s voice faltered, the usual icy calm giving way to something deeper, more fragile. His breath hitched, his smile gone, replaced by a rare flicker of vulnerability. His fingers twitched, as if wanting to reach out, but they remained frozen in place.
The ground beneath him shifted without warning, jagged spikes of wood erupting from the floor with unnatural speed. Before Frank could react, the sharp roots skewered him, impaling him through his chest, arms, and legs. Blood spattered the floor in vivid streaks as his body jerked from the sudden impact, the wood twisting as it pierced his flesh. He winced, more in frustration than pain, but the sharp agony was undeniable.
The projection of the girl remained before him, her tear-filled eyes never leaving his, even as the roots twisted deeper into his body. Rain continued to fall around her, an illusion as fragile as the memories it was pulling from him.
“Damn it…” Frank whispered, his voice hoarse as his vision blurred. The sight of Sarah standing before him brought an ache that no physical wound could match. His mind flashed back to the moment he lost her.