ACT 04: DEJA VU

1

In that eerie place, a shadow of a creature—a beast—a monster—a demon materialized before my eyes.

Words could not decipher the nature of this creature with its terrifying trance

Its form shrouded in darkness, a dreadful sight, a sentinel of shadows, a spectral being.

It slithered with a sinuous, serpentine grace.

Its ebony scales like a void's embrace.

And its teeth, like hastily sewn in the night, gleamed menacingly.

Yet, amidst this horrifying visage, a stark contrast emerged—a mask, intricate in design, a labyrinth of lines, and an enigmatic sign.

The mask resembled a hive of secrets, a cryptic maze etched onto its flesh.

Its skin, a fleshy robe of deepest black, unleashed an aura of vile malevolence that tainted the serene shelves, the books, the walls, as it prowled the white marble floor in its grim thralls.

Fear seized me as white mist escaped its maw, and this creature, dangerous and enigmatic, filled me with raw awe.

Its monstrous visage, a mask not of grace, but a sinister emblem in that unholy space, haunted my thoughts.

With every step, it conjured dread, as if harboring vile secrets within, a guardian not of mysteries, but of terror, in that otherworldly realm where day met night.

The beast wavered in the darkness, its form so intense that it defied comprehension.

As it approached, a menacing aura enveloped me, and I couldn't help but wonder what monstrous being had appeared before me.

"Piiiiiii!" The beast's high-pitched chirp pierced the air, a chorus of avian notes, and a cacophony that overwhelmed my senses.

As the creature's deafening cry reverberated in my ears, I was seized by a paralyzing fear.

What in the world was this abomination?

My mind struggled to comprehend the grotesque being that confronted me.

It defied the conventions of fantasy creatures, its form grotesque and peculiar, like an oddity of nature.

This entity lacked a conventional head; instead, a mask adorned its upper body, akin to an animal's torso.

The shrill cry emanated from a vertical slit that traversed from its front side to its back, giving the impression of legs on either side.

Adding to its eerie presence, a black mane adorned its back, spreading at an astonishing rate, like a ravenous black flame consuming the pristine white of the library.

It filled the space with its shadow, and I recoiled in shock.

The stench of rotting flesh that emanated from the creature filled my senses, while the surroundings darkened far more rapidly than I could have imagined.

The term "klaur" flashed through my mind, a name that seemed to resonate with this sinister presence—the beast known as Klaur.

In other words—a monster, one born from the new world, had appeared—the Klaur.

As the realization struck Blur, the upper body of the beast turned toward him, its predatory intent unmistakable.

Its legs moved methodically as it approached, a creature of menace and power.

The beast, shrouded in black, was closing in rapidly, but Blur remained perfectly still.

It wasn't that he had resigned himself to face this overpowering threat without resistance—quite the opposite.

He focused on controlling his breathing, attempting to conceal his presence from the demon beast, even though he wasn't hiding behind anything.

In most situations, such an attempt would be futile, but not against the Klaur.

The beast halted a few yards away from Blur, leaving him guessing at its thoughts behind the mask that took the place of its head.

It hadn't immediately moved to strike him, not due to doubt or hesitation, but simply because it wasn't certain of Blur's presence.

For Blur, this encounter was entirely alien—he had no prior knowledge of Klaur or any visual reference to guide him.

All he had were the words of the cat, which advised him never to fight a Klaur.

Encounters with new enemies often led to his hopeless demise, and his only recourse was to rely on the cat's knowledge to decipher how to deal with them.

As he gazed upon the enigmatic beast, Blur's mind raced, searching for a means of survival.

Why hadn't it attacked immediately?

Was it deriving pleasure from this delay? No.

Was it a sadistic streak? No.

The beast's actions weren't driven by cruelty—it simply couldn't perceive him.

The Klaur lacked eyes or a conventional head, and the cry that emanated from it seemed to originate from the mask affixed to its upper body.

It appeared to be blind, possibly in process of evolutionary adaptation over time—a creature of darkness losing its vision through evolution.

Whatever the reason, this limitation played into Blur's favor.

Maintaining absolute silence, Blur moved his arm with minimal motion and hurled a book in his hand.

The book, of normal size, traced a gentle arc above the Klaur's mask before landing with a thud on the white marble floor behind it.

"Piiiiiii!" The Klaur's reaction was dramatic.

It spun around and pounced upon the book, landing with a burst of sound, crushing it tenaciously.

Black dust rose into the air, and the Klaur's darkness seemed to deepen further as it continued to stamp and destroy the book in a frenzied display of aggression.

Blur couldn't be certain if the Klaur would eventually leave the area, or if his escape was just a brief respite.

But he understood that this was a golden opportunity he might not get again.

With utmost care, he picked up a book from his left and tossed it in the opposite direction.

The Klaur's attention shifted to the book instantly, tearing into it with merciless vigor.

Black dust and debris from the book filled the air as it wrought destruction.

Its piercing whine pierced the silence as Blur cautiously turned his head forward.

The place from which the beast had emerged, a passage, lay just a dozen yards away.

He locked eyes with a set of piercing blue orbs staring back at him—Number 102.