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Bond Made For Blood

Terem Mangelle is not your typical man. On the surface, he works as a mortician, dissecting corpses to determine the cause of death. However, within his mind, he is subjected to the manipulations of 'Them.' They torture his mind and force him to do their bidding with whispered threats. Because of this, Terem's life revolves around appeasing 'Them' by murdering others and staging deaths. He spends his life in hiding until he finally gets a second chance, a slip of paper. With one signature, his life changes forever. He is reincarnated, finally leaving his unfortunate past behind him. Or does he?

Nato_da_Potato · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
28 Chs

Ant Against a Flood

Well, at least Terem felt that he had blacked out. Possibly even died.

He found that he could control his eyes only to be greeted with a nostalgic nightscape; he had been here before.

"I guess it was too hopeful to think I'd live," Terem spoke to the pitch black, urging it to simply listen to his sob story of a life: both the misfortune and his grievances. He sighed, choosing to resign himself and prepare for death, waiting for the Devil to once again appear out of the darkness to taunt him and curse his soul to perpetual suffering. To laugh at him for bearing his pathetic fangs against the one and only God of human sufferance.

Terem closed his eyes and ears, accepting the inevitable. He gradually let go of his hope, fading into the surrounding darkness along with it.

He waited.

"Well, it was just a silly dream. Maybe I'll get a chance for repentance." The man chuckled a bit at his own sad joke. In reality, he knew he would never get another chance at life, not for repentance, no; it had already passed him by. He wanted what was owed to him. He wanted happiness.

And yet, he waited.

As his consciousness began to grow heavy, he felt something. A slight warmth prodding around his almost ethereal toes as if it was searching for something.

Oddly, the tendril sort of tickled in its own unusual way.

However, that sensation soon dissipated leaving Terem alone with his thoughts once again. He smiled and bade his final farewells to the shitty life he was dished out, choosing to not have anything flash before his eyes and hopefully die in peace rather than remorse.

That is when everything changed once again. The dark was blasted away by a concentrated beam of light, filling Terem's vision with color and, coincidentally, more dreaded pain. Apparently, that would always be a constant in his life.

If Terem could think cohesively, he would swear to never live an eventful life for fear of more suffering. Instead, he found himself locked in a mental struggle as an ant against the flood.

Caught off guard, Terem attempted to rally his memories, but they were rapidly being scattered as new information he had never known before was deeply etched within his mind. The overwhelming flow of knowledge threatened to push his feeble mind past the precipice; however, he hung on to two remaining thoughts: a plan and incredible luck.

Fortunately, the second item proved to be quite abundant at the moment as an unknown power ruptured through the surging tide creating a haven for Terem's consciousness to stabilize.

Now, instead of an ant, Terem's will evolved into a boulder and only continued to grow, slowly stemming the tidal wave of information until it was simply a river, then a leak, and finally, nothing.

Once safe, the unknown tendril of power dissipated, resettling deep within Terem's body, leaving his weary mind alone to rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Terem awoke to the smell of pine. Because of this, he realized that, among other sensations, he had never been able to taste or smell, effectively missing out on two of the five most important senses to a human being.

For starters, Terem was glad that the constant pain caused by the fluid within his lungs had finally abated, presumably because the odd liquid had been expelled from his lungs and nostrils while he slept. Yet Terem refrained from opening his eyes for the moment.

Instead, he chose to examine his body.

After all, when he awoke, the boy realized that his entire person felt light, warm, and a fuzziness akin to what he felt when the lich activated its magic nearby.

Fortunately, the self-examination proved to be simple enough. All Terem had to do was open his mind's eye and feel his body's steady rhythm and overall flow, comparing his current impressions to the feelings of his old body. For once, Terem was glad to have spent so long within solitary confinement since he was allowed ample time to inspect every corner of his youthful body, both internally and externally, until he was confident that he knew it as well as he knew the back of his own hand. The procedure also happened to be straightforward and undemanding, mainly requiring Terem to collect a small assortment of simplistic data: the rhythm of his heart, how his body felt, the tautness of his muscles, etc.

The results, however, surprised even himself. In fact, he found the changes within his body underwhelming which left him even more confused at the same time because his body acted the exact same way as it did while inside the tank, at least physically. Instead of a noticeable change, he only felt sweaty and invigorated for no apparent reason, sort of like his feeling of strength was a temporary mood that could pass with the weather.

Reasonable and unrealistic possibilities flitted through Terem's mind; the most prominent scenario concluding that his current condition was, in part, thanks to his most recent triumph over the lich's soul.

As he continued to brainstorm, a voice interrupted him.

"Is an ignorant mortal like you trying to tell me something?"

The voice, of fucking course, belonged to the accursed lich.

"Hey, don't use that tone with me kid. You just got lucky for a whelp."

Terem startled upright, eyes bolting open and rapidly flitting around the clearing searching for the inevitable being that spoke to him as if it could read his innermost thoughts.

But alas, all he found was the same glade that the ritual took place in. This time, the sun was shining and the coniferous trees gently swayed in the breeze, flaunting their vibrant green needles tipped with morning dew to the flowers and bustling insects surrounding the mound.

Nothing else was there.

"Of course nothing else is there you fucking idiot." The lich sighed and Terem somehow sensed the being's exasperation. "My body disintegrated into dust allowing my soul to escape for the body transfer, but some smart piece of shit just had to mentally develop as well as physically develop, ruining my plan for eternal life!"

Now, the lich's voice just sounded like it was griping yet Terem had yet to find out where the lich was so he decided to ask.

"So, uh... Lich? Where might you be right now?"

"I'm inside your head, idiot."

"What?" The news shocked Terem to the core. How could this be happening? Why is this happening? And then, every hair on his body stood on end as his mind began to draw parallels between the past and his present.

Fear, as he had never felt before, grew inside of his mind, starting small, but ever-expanding until his heart quickened and he clutched his chest, gasping for air. The cool morning breeze now wasn't so kind, becoming a harsh winter wind upon his naked taut body.

"What's wrong, kid? Your simpleton mind can't handle my superior intellect?" The lich lilted into a mocking tone of voice. The being reasoned that if he couldn't have the vessel child for himself, then no one could. He might as well enjoy his final moments torturing yet another worthless rodent before he passed on.

But the lich's theory couldn't be further from the truth. Terem's mental age was two months short of being 46 years old. Having no way to know this though, the lich stuck with his original presumption, unable to perceive the mental images of Terem's past that ravaged the poor man's brittle mind, having to instead suffice himself with fragments of conversation that were fed to him as thoughts.

The lich only understood that Terem was either clinically insane or had split personalities based on the tidbits of information he received. However, what he did understand from it all was that Terem was afraid due to his past trauma and he was afraid of the lich.

For Terem, mentally merging with the lich meant that he had escaped from his past only to have it haunt him in this new life and forever follow him like a malicious shadow. Suddenly, the trees' long shadows became ominous stalkers, lurking and laughing at the unfortunate boy lying naked upon the cold stone slate.

He had to escape this time around. He simply had to.

Expectedly, Terem's mental prowess was incredible due to the many years of deflecting his previous ghosts so he rallied his thoughts and cleared his mind. Standing up, Terem firmed his resolve to find a solution and gain vengeance for all the pain he had suffered in both lives.

Sure, he knew it was petty, but it was about time that he fought back now that he had the freedom and power to do so.

And now, there was only one voice.

He would do whatever it took to free himself from the shackles burdening him. He would gain the power to live free.

He would become indomitable.

'I will become...'

"Myself."

Welp... Just found out Grammarly works for this site. Time to take a blast to the past. Thanks for reading this far and I hope you continue on this journey with me!

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