Echoes of Malice

[Warning- Violence depicted may cause distress to readers]

Silence slowly rose from his meditative pose, feeling the cursed energy surging through him, his body now rejuvenated. His face twisted into a sinister grin, eyes narrowing as he scanned the room. The men who had dared to challenge him were all paralyzed, powerless to resist. A dark thought crossed his mind—a desire to punish them, not just for daring to confront him, but for thinking they could overpower him.

His gaze locked onto the shooter, who now stood frozen, eyes wide with fear. Silence's smile widened as he approached, his voice dripping with mockery. "So, you like shooting people in the back, huh? Real brave of you," he sneered, each word laced with contempt. "How about we see just how much you enjoy it when the tables are turned?"..."Stand!".

The shooter trembled as Silence forced him to stand. He shoved the gun back into the man's trembling hands, leaning in close enough that the shooter could feel his breath. "If you're so fond of shooting, then here's a little game. Let's see if you can shoot everyone else in the room. I mean, practice makes perfect, right?" Silence chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down the spines of anyone still conscious.

Instead of lining up all 15 men, Silence grabbed one of them and forced him to stand, positioning him with his back facing the shooter. The rest of the men watched from the sidelines, their eyes wide with horror as they realized what was happening. Silence's voice took on a chillingly playful tone as he gestured toward the man standing. "Let's start with just one. Don't want you getting overwhelmed, right?" He glanced at the others, who were all helplessly watching the scene unfold. "The rest of you? Enjoy the show. It's not every day you get to see a live demonstration of someone's... talents."

He turned back to the shooter, his grin widening. "Go on, then. Show me how much you love shooting people. Let's see if you can hit the mark."

At this, Silence's expression darkened. He leaned in closer to the shooter and, with a commanding tone, simply said, "Shoot."

The shooter's hand jerked as if controlled by an unseen force, his finger twitching toward the trigger. With a loud bang, the gun fired. The man standing before him let out a muffled groan—"Umf!"—as the bullet tore through his left shoulder. He crumpled to the ground, writhing in even more pain.

Silence watched with a twisted grin, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Wow, that was bad. Seriously, if that's your aim, you're gonna need a lot more practice." He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the numerous guns scattered on the floor. "But hey, look at that—there's enough for everyone! Let's give it one more shot, shall we?" he added, his tone dripping with sadistic amusement.

And so, after some time, the man standing had five bullet holes in him, his body trembling on the verge of fainting but still conscious, his breath coming in ragged, heavy gasps.

Liam, the leader, watched in horror, his mind struggling to process the nightmare unfolding before him. He had always been in control, but now he was powerless, forced to watch as his men were butchered in front of him. The shooter, his hands trembling uncontrollably, was drenched in sweat, tears streaming down his face as he repeatedly pulled the trigger against his will. Each shot sent a wave of revulsion and terror through him, but he couldn't stop.

The other men, paralyzed by Silence's command, stood helplessly. They couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't even look away. All they could do was watch, tears streaming down some of their faces as they were made to kill their comrades one by one. The weight of their actions crushed their spirits, leaving them hollow and broken inside. Some of them, unable to hold back their despair, began to cry silently, the tears falling unnoticed by everyone but Silence.

"Don't be sad," Silence said with a dark chuckle, his voice a chilling contrast to the anguish in the room. "Your turn will come soon enough."

And so, for a major part of that night, the room was filled with the sounds of silenced groans and individual shots, the echoes of hellish torment. Outside, the world went on as usual, unaware of the horrors happening within. No one in the area could hear the agonizing sounds that marked the slow, brutal demise of the men trapped with Silence.

[After an unknown amount of time]

Silence stood motionless, observing the fallen men writhing in pain on the floor, yet very much alive. Their groans of agony only fueled the dark satisfaction that surged within him as cursed energy (CE) swelled inside him. His expression was blank, as if detached from the gruesome reality he had created. Yet, beneath that stoic facade, a twisted smile slowly formed, dried blood cracking on his lips as he decided what to do next.

His gaze shifted to the shooter, now a broken shell of a man, reduced to a quivering mess by the horrors he had been forced to inflict. The man was no longer responding, his mind shattered beyond repair. Silence walked toward him with deliberate steps, a cold glint in his eyes. "Your shots were terrible," he muttered, his voice devoid of emotion as he pressed his hand on the man's head.

In that moment, a sinister idea took root in Silence mind. 'Since this was the person who harmed me, I want to break him... both mentally and physically,' he thought, the darkness within him growing more pronounced. He focused on the command, saying "Pull" with the intent of drawing all the man's blood toward his head.

It was a delicate task, one that required a level of control Silence hadn't yet mastered. But the shooter was too far gone to resist; his mind was shattered, his struggles nonexistent, making it easier for Silence to carry out his grim task. The man's body began to tremble as a horrific pain took hold. Blood surged unnaturally toward his head, veins bulging grotesquely beneath his skin. His eyes widened in terror as the pressure inside his skull built to unbearable levels, his screams rising in pitch as his agony reached a crescendo.

Finally, with a sickening pop, the man's eyes burst from their sockets, releasing a torrent of blood that sprayed across the room. Silence quickly stepped back, avoiding most of the mess, but the splatter still stained his clothes. He watched as the man collapsed, lifeless and drenched in his own blood. Silence stood there, expressionless once again, the dark satisfaction of his revenge washing over him.

Silence took a step back, his hands trembling slightly. The intensity of the scene had taken its toll, and he was still adjusting to the level of control and darkness he had tapped into. He steadied his breath, his mind focused as he prepared to bring the nightmare to an end.

After a moment of composure, Silence gaze turned to Liam, who was shuddering under the weight of his presence. A dark amusement flickered in his eyes as he addressed Liam. "Well, as the boss, you should really end their misery, don't you think?" His voice was a chilling mix of mockery and command. "Move."

Liam's body obeyed against his will, his movements jerky and mechanical as he approached one of the men. "Press" was heard by heard by Liam. The man's eyes widened in terror, his face a mask of desperate struggle as Liam's hands gripped his throat. Liam's own face was a portrait of silent horror, his mouth opening in a futile attempt to scream as he increased the pressure. The sound of choking and gasping filled the room, the man's eyes bulging and veins popping as he fought for breath.

Silence watched with a detached interest, his expression unchanging as Liam was forced to continue. One by one, the men fell victim to Liam's relentless grip. Each face contorted in agony, their struggles growing weaker until their breaths ceased entirely. The room filled with the sound of their final, ragged gasps, each man's life extinguished in a cruel and unrelenting display.

When the last man finally stopped breathing, Liam was left standing amid the lifeless bodies, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a mixture of horror and hatred. He looked at Silence as if seeing a demon, a dark reflection of the monster he himself had become.

Silence remained unfazed by the look of loathing, his tone light and almost playful as he addressed Liam. "Oh, come on now. You're from the underworld yourself, aren't you? You've done your share of heinous deeds. What right do you have to judge someone who's just... stronger than you?" His voice held a hint of mockery, highlighting the irony of Liam's situation.

Without waiting for a response, Silence gestured toward a nearby gun. "Pick" he commanded.

Liam's trembling hands obeyed, reaching for the weapon. His face was a mask of resignation as he lifted the gun to his own head. "Shoot" With a final, anguished glance at Aaron, he pulled the trigger. The shot echoed through the room, ending the charade in a final, grim conclusion.

Silence watched as Liam fell to the ground, the last vestige of resistance extinguished. He surveyed the room one last time, his expression cold and unreadable, before turning away from the carnage he had orchestrated.

Silence just stood there for a while as if soaking all that transpired today, seeing the the at a clock he decided that it was already late and should start heading back. He moved out from a window and went straight to the nearby roof...