The Sinister Art

The room stood frozen in time, Mezzetino's hand trapped inside Mazigh's body, the echoes of panic reverberating through the air. Mazigh, still unconscious, wore a sinister smile that sent chills down everyone's spines.

Desperation consumed Mezzetino as he struggled to free himself, but his hand remained stuck, relentlessly pulled deeper into Mazigh's body like a black hole devouring its prey. Time froze, yet Mazigh's voice, as if possessed by an otherworldly entity, pierced the stillness.

"One of Four, Harbinger of Death, Egoist to his cause, rarely forgets but never forgives," Mazigh intoned, his voice laced with an eerie power.

Fear gripped Mezzetino, shattering his concentration. The halted time around him crumbled, and he found himself inside Mazighs body. Mezzentino got completely devoured by Mazigh, gone like smoke into thin air.

After several seconds he got expelled from Mazigh's body, flung to the ground in a heap. Screams escaped his lips as he turned to Calcaw, seeking answers.

"How long was I out?" Mezzetino's voice trembled.

Calcaw's reply was matter-of-fact. "Approximately ten seconds, give or take. Where have you been, Mezzetino?"

Mezzetino's voice wavered with a mix of awe and terror. "It felt like an eternity, Calcaw. I... I don't understand."

Bowing before Mazigh's unconscious form, Mezzetino pleaded with anguish. "Forgive me, my emperor, for my disrespect. I did not know your true nature. Please spare our humble family and allow us to survive this fateful night."

Suddenly, the room shook as the door burst open with a powerful kick. An ethereal figure stood before them, cloaked with a red oversized suit and a red crop top, captivating and menacing. With crimson curls cascading down, bloodstained lips revealing sharp fangs, and eyes that held an otherworldly beauty, the self-proclaimed Ripper exuded an air of danger.

Nonchalantly, the Ripper strolled to the center of the room, taking a seat on a chair, displaying a blasé demeanor. Resting his head on his hand, he addressed the room with a yawn.

"Well, ladies, gentlemen, and non-binaries, you called for The Ripper, and here I am. I'm all ears," he drawled.

A sinister energy radiated from the Ripper, leaving the assembled Chosen Ones no choice but to submit. Calcaw's smile widened as she acknowledged their guest.

"Welcome, Ripper. I presume you are aware of our intentions and who we are," Calcaw remarked.

The Ripper smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Yes, indeed. However, I must decline your offer. You seek revenge, while I have transformed it into an art form. I purify the filth and create masterpieces. Besides, I'm the one who invites others to join me, not the other way around. Feel free to stay in my city, enjoy yourselves. But wait until I complete my seven masterpieces, then we shall have our fun together."

A vampire among the Chosen Ones couldn't contain his skepticism. He leaped forward, his voice filled with defiance. "Why should we listen to you? You're just a deranged killer, mentally ill."

The Ripper's gaze pierced through the vampire, a chilling realization dawning on Incursio. "Incursio, aren't you afraid?" the Ripper taunted.

Incursio's voice trembled. "How... how do you know my name?"

A sinister smile curved the Ripper's lips. "Silly vampire, I can read your mind. And now, to prove a point..."

Interrupting the tension, the Ripper commanded, "Incursio, snap your own neck."

Without hesitation, Incursio obeyed the chilling directive, his life ending in an instant. The room stood in shocked silence, witnessing the Ripper's mastery of compulsion.

Turning his attention to Calcaw, the Ripper spoke with authority. "Understood."

Calcaw nodded, acknowledging the unspoken agreement between them. As the Ripper prepared to leave, he paused at the exit door, his voice echoing through the room.

"Oh, before I forget, leave the kid alone. I have great plans for him. Don't harm him; let him do as he pleases. Bye-bye."

With those cryptic words, the Ripper vanished into the night, leaving the Chosen Ones in a state of unease and anticipation. Mazigh's unconscious form lay there, unknowingly entangled in the Ripper's enigmatic designs.