A jarring scream ruptured the already tense ambiance of the ballroom, not because it emerged unexpectedly. Given the tumult of the preceding minutes, nothing seemed capable of eliciting genuine surprise on this fateful night. Its impact stemmed from the fact that those present recognized, both visually and audibly, the source of the cry – their host, now ominously known as the new and formidable Jefe.
Joshua collapsed onto the viscous black sludge, his cries reverberating through the room as the hand clenching his now shattered ankle refused to relent.
Amidst the darkness, the figure presumed deceased raised her head, her features obscured by the oily residue that coated her. Chunks of it slid down her face, revealing several bullet holes oozing with the same dark substance, evidence of the projectiles fired at point-blank range.
With sluggish movements, MK pushed herself up using her free hand, her mental faculties not yet fully restored. Reality remained hazy, gradually coalescing back to the moment before she became an unwitting target.
"Gabriel, for God's sake, get her off me!" Joshua's desperate plea pierced through the chaos, pleading for assistance.
The imposing bodyguard wasted no time, hurling himself at MK with ferocious intensity, sending both crashing off the runway and onto the ballroom floor in a splatter of darkness. His determination knew no bounds; even after his Glock 19 had emptied its magazine, it remained a formidable weapon in his hands.
Straddling her, he aimed the gun's handle at MK's skull with relentless force, intent on shattering bone. Yet, to his astonishment, his hand grew numb from the repeated impacts faster than it made any significant dent in MK's resilient skull.
Surrounding them, the once-complacent guests transformed into fearful spectators, their initial grievances forgotten in the face of this unfolding spectacle. Some retreated cautiously, intrigued by the drama and eager to witness the depths to which the new Jefe would plunge in handling such macabre and inexplicable occurrences. They kept their prized possessions close, wary of the unforeseen turns of the evening.
Meanwhile, the attendants who had dutifully served their drinks and catered to their whims found themselves slightly luckier; many had managed to slip away from the ballroom before the apparent malfunction of the elevators and the blockage of exits – presumably part of a security protocol. Yet, a faction of guests persisted in clamoring for escape, their demands falling on deaf ears amidst the clusterfuck.
"Why won't you just die!" Gabriel roared as he relentlessly bashed MK's head for the eighteenth time. Somewhere around the fifteenth strike, he thought he heard a crack, but whether it was concealed beneath MK's hair or merely a trick of his senses remained unclear.
Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one blows rained down upon her. With a resounding "CRACK," Gabriel felt a surge of both exhilaration and fear course through him. From the moment he first laid eyes on the girl offered by the convent, a sense of foreboding had gripped him, a feeling that had lingered since the old Jefe tasked him with confronting Madre Superiora – an intuition shared by his predecessor, which had earned the enigmatic nuns his respect.
However, the new Jefe dismissed such superstitions and rumors, viewing them as challenges to his authority. In his haste to consolidate power, he sought to demonstrate to all – subordinates, allies, adversaries, and the world at large – that his wrath alone commanded reverence.
"DIE!" Gabriel bellowed, summoning every ounce of strength for a decisive, potentially fatal blow, as he brought the gun's handle crashing down upon MK's forehead.
His fist bore deeper than the preceding twenty-one strikes, filling Gabriel with a mixture of pride and relief at the sensation of breaching the Bruja's skull.
"Mm?" Gabriel lifted his hand and turned it over, only to find his pupils contracting as a sudden numbness enveloped his body. Splinters of the Glock's polymer frame erupted like shrapnel, and the once-reliable handgun, designed for precision and durability, contorted and buckled in his grasp.
His gaze shifted from the shattered remnants of his weapon to MK. To his astonishment, the bullet holes had vanished, and MK's countenance, once gaunt and emaciated, now exuded a captivating allure. Lying amidst the viscous black sludge, the once-starving redhead seemed to emit an otherworldly radiance. Her luminous yellow eyes, intense and penetrating, drew Gabriel in, while the inky substance enveloping her contrasted starkly with her porcelain skin, creating an aura of surreal beauty and power.
The sudden bloom held Gabriel spellbound; for a fleeting moment, he forgot the reason he had pinned her down. It was only the sharp pain from his waist that jolted him back to reality.
MK's fingers sank into Gabriel's flesh, her once-beautiful visage contorting into a mask of madness. With relentless determination, she brought her hands together, silencing Gabriel's scream – an echo of Joshua's that lingered fleetingly in the minds of the onlookers.
In a swift, brutal motion, MK seized his spine and tore him asunder, adding warm red to her ethereal glow.
"Gab... riel?" Joshua's incredulous gaze bore witness from the runway, his most trusted confidant torn between two realms, trapped in an existence defying explanation without endangering his sanity.
A profound silence descended upon the divided groups of guests, a hush broken only by the collective intake of breath before chaos erupted. But to MK, the cacophony of noise faded into a distant hum.
'Strange,' she mused, studying her hands with detached calmness. Her luminous yellow eyes traced the length of her arms, up to her shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the unnaturally flawless state of her skin. 'I feel... powerful.'
With a swift motion, her arm whipped through the air, repeating until discomfort tinged her movements. Though no sonic boom followed, her limb emerged pristine by the time its motion ceased.
With a deliberate step forward, MK's arm waved, vibrating as her entire form momentarily blurred, shedding the black sludge, blood, and clothing. Even her makeup vanished into the ether.
"Better," she murmured, a faint smile gracing her lips. "Now... I feel famished."
Her attention fixated on the source of a tantalizing scent, emanating from Gabriel's torn body. She stooped over his lifeless form, meeting death with unsettling composure. Her lips parted, stretching wide to reveal a sinister abyss, filled with rows upon rows of slender, needle-like teeth with ominously blackened edges. A low growl escaped her throat as she salivated at the prospect of her prey.
'NO!'
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The command echoed in her mind, as if time itself had frozen.
'NO!'
Her own voice, a vehement opposition to her primal cravings.
The mere contemplation of consuming flesh, let alone human flesh and blood, intensified her hunger while simultaneously repulsing her to the core. The mental conflict drove her to extend her tongue from her maw, tearing it with a decisive bite.
The pain, though manageable, served as a stark reminder: regardless of how physically whole she felt, something within her remained inherently wrong.
Thick black blood dribbled from MK's chin, large round droplets mixing with the viscous sludge on the floor. Her mouth returned to its normal state, the hunger lingering, but the repulsion dissipating as her resolve remained unyielding.
'I won't... ever again!' Memories of tasting and feeding on human flesh and blood flooded her mind. None of those instances were by her own volition, and she meticulously etched the faces of those who had compelled her, alongside those of her victims.
She clenched her slender hands, an unfamiliar expression of anger contorting her features. Yet, it served to reconnect her with the pulsing power within, the untapped vigor she had bottled up for a month.
The clamor of banging and yelling drew her inattentive gaze back to Joshua's guests. Their frenzied energy fueled her hunger, a realization dawning upon her that it would be an endless battle with herself. It was a struggle to restrain her mouth from taking on its monstrous form once more. Fortunately, she harbored no reservations in allowing her vile instincts to serve as an outlet for the torrent of emotions raging within her.
As MK made her move, everything seemed to slow down around her, igniting a thrill within her newly discovered huntress instincts. With a sudden surge, she unleashed a wave of black sludge amidst the crowd of adult men and women and sexually dressed… 'They're practically children!'
She thrashed with abandon, heads rolling, bodies exploding into fragments, the scene of slaughter unfolding before her with relentless intensity. Each life she took seemed to fuel the power surging within her, manifesting as a sinister blend of black and red radiance that projected from her movements.
Intoxicated by the violence, MK smiled, finding a modicum of satisfaction in unleashing her pent-up emotions. With every life she claimed, a bit of her hunger was momentarily satiated, her other emotions running wild. Absentmindedly, she snapped her fingers, and a full-grown man exploded into nothingness.
"Eh?" she exclaimed innocently, inspecting her fingers up close before snapping them again. To her surprise, nothing happened. Confusion clouded her thoughts momentarily, then understanding dawned upon her. Allowing her emotions to guide her, she flicked her hand toward a fleeing woman in a long pink gown. Another explosion followed, raining down a grotesque mixture of flesh and fabric.
"I'm sorry," she murmured to the trembling girl at her feet, briefly assuming the role of an unexpected "hero". Crouching down, she gently petted the girl's head with a bloody hand. "Don't worry. I'll make sure nobody can hurt you."
pondering her next move amid the carnage, a twisted notion slowly took root in her mind. Her features contorted into a nightmarish facade as she crouched beside the trembling girl, her voice a chilling whisper: "I know. I'll make you strong, just like me."
With little concern for the girl's resistance, MK seized her arm and delicately sank her teeth into the flesh, infusing her with her own power. Surprisingly, the act didn't stoke her hunger; it felt instinctual, an intrinsic part of her being.
Releasing the girl's arm, MK observed as she slumped back, trembling and fidgeting. With renewed determination, MK resumed her onslaught, extending the same transformative offer to those she associated with her own traumatic past.
Meanwhile, Joshua surveyed the turmoil with a sense of resignation as he dialed his phone, anxiously awaiting a response on the other end. Finally, a voice cut through the static.
"GET EVERYONE TO THE 30TH BALLROOM, NOW!" he barked urgently, impressing upon the gravity of the situation.
"Boss, we can't," came the desperate reply. "The system's gone haywire. Nothing works. The elevators are stuck, security locks won't respond to keycards... We just managed to restore cell reception."
"I DON'T CARE! BREAK OPEN DOORS! TAKE THE STAIRWAY! BRING ALL THE FIREARMS AND TAKE DOWN THIS MONSTER-" Joshua's tirade abruptly halted as he glanced at the screen of his phone – no signal. "DAMN!" he exclaimed, hurling the device as pain shot through his crushed foot.
Initially, there were over a hundred and fifty people in the ballroom. Among them, fifty were guests, with eighteen now dead, ten severely injured, and the rest nursing light bruises – issues MK intended to address anew. As for her "Seedlings". a term that had sprung to her mind without explanation, there were twenty and counting, none having awakened after receiving the bite.
"Wonderful!" MK exulted, spinning amidst the chaos of the ballroom. Throughout the slaughter and transformation, her hunger had diminished significantly, no longer a pressing concern. She allowed herself to revel in the cries of her prey, a melody to her heightened senses, prompting her to dance around with abandon.
"DING!" The sound, though not particularly loud, reverberated through the room, signaling the return of one of the elevators to operation at last.
The elevator doors slid open, and Joshua awaited the anticipated reinforcement. Anxious murmurs filled the air as the remaining guests and attendants who could walk rushed to escape. All movement ceased as an elderly woman stepped out of the elevator.
"Well done for successfully becoming a new kind of Singularity, Thing," Mother Superior congratulated the still-dancing MK with nonchalance.
"MADRE SUPERIORA!" Joshua's voice thundered as he pulled out his gun, the very one he had hesitated to use on MK after witnessing Gabriel's failure and subsequent demise. His arm trembled as he aimed the weapon, needing to use both hands for support. "YOU PLANNED THIS!"
"Sir Joshua," Mother Superior smiled gently, her gaze briefly settling on Gabriel's lifeless form, a flicker of sadness crossing her features. "You were the last to respect me as Chaplain, even though it was only a formality. May Her Holiness guide you," she offered a small bow.
"MADRE SUPERIORA!" Joshua's voice cracked with fury as he fired a shot. The bullet missed Mother Superior, but it served to redirect her attention from the fallen bodyguard to the living Jefe before her.
"My condolences, Sir Joshua, and my apologies. I didn't expect this to happen so soon. Alas, a woman plans... even at Her most devoted. Blessed be Her graciousness for alerting me in the nick of time," Mother Superior spoke with a composed tone, acknowledging grave turn of events.
In a fit of desperation, Joshua unleashed a barrage of rounds, his actions driven by madness. Despite his lack of stability and the distance, several bullets veered ominously toward Mother Superior. Yet, just meters away from impact, their trajectories inexplicably changed course.
"Bruja..." Joshua muttered, his voice echoing Gabriel's, as he succumbed to the despair overtaking him.
"Thing," Mother Superior addressed MK, her tone commanding. "Please cease the rampage."
But MK paid no heed. With astonishing speed, she delivered a fatal blow to another guest, heedless of the consequences.
"This is not acceptable. These people are the source of our precious income," Mother Superior declared, calmly advancing through the black sludge. "Stop!" Her voice rang out with authority.
MK, on the verge of attacking another victim, suddenly felt a wave of dread wash over her. 'Run!' her instincts screamed, but within the confines of the ballroom, there was nowhere to escape the encroaching terror.
Unbeknownst to her, she found herself standing before Mother Superior, the one figure she instinctively deemed safe.
"Good, Thing," Mother Superior said, gently taking MK's hand in both of hers. "Bring the friends you've made."
MK's affirmation hung in the air, tinged with uncertainty yet driven by an inexplicable force compelling her compliance. Likewise, the mechanism triggering her unique power to summon her Seedlings eluded her understanding.
The twenty-five boys and girls stirred from their stupor, emerging like specters from a nightmare. Fangs protruded from their mouths, their once-vibrant hair now a haunting white, their skin pallid gray, and their eyes and sclera cast in a sickly yellow hue. They moved in unison, drawn toward Mother Superior and their creator, MK, as if guided by an unseen hand.
In the eerie silence that followed, four distinct "DING!"s pierced the air as the remaining elevators disgorged their cargo. Mother Superior pivoted, her gaze fixed forward as she led her entourage toward the awaiting transports, each chime marking a step closer to their escape.
"I bid you a pleasant night, Sir Joshua," Mother Superior intoned, her voice carrying an air of finality. "I'll be waiting for you in the convent."
With that, she and her procession vanished into the depths of the elevators, leaving behind a scene of devastation and despair in the wake of their departure.