Zino's ears were filled with a cacophony of swearing and angry words, but amidst the chaos, he couldn't make out a single word that Lanse was saying. The intensity of his rage had turned her fear into a paralyzing terror, rendering her incapable of focusing on anything that escaped his lips. She silently thanked whatever forces of fate had placed him on the opposite side of the aisle, away from her.
Tess tore her gaze away from Lanse's face, her eyes traveling down the length of his long-sleeved shirt until they reached the ground. A rush of disbelief flooded over her—she couldn't believe that she, out of all the people present, was the first to face death's cruel touch. Doubts gnawed at her, casting a shadow over her previous belief in her own strength.
Then, a brief memory flashed through her mind. She vividly recalled the sudden eruption of agonizing pain that had coursed through her body, rendering her completely immobile. In that moment, the trees that had obstructed her view were violently ripped aside, revealing the nightmarish figure with bandages and long, spiked arms. The creature's grotesque appearance sent shivers down her spine recalling the sight.
Pain continued to ravage Tess's body, leaving her unable to move as the creature swung its arms twice, slashing through the air and causing blood to spurt out from her wounds. As she plummeted to the ground, the trees seemed to race toward her at an alarming speed. Strands of her once pristine white hair were sent flying in all directions. Darkness crept in from the edges of her vision until her entire sight was consumed by pitch blackness.
The final fragments of that memory compelled Tess to clutch her head, desperately seeking answers. What had happened to her? It seemed as if she was undergoing some sort of mutation, a chilling thought that reverberated through her skull, accompanied by the thunderous pounding of her own heartbeat.
A mutation? Such a notion seemed utterly impossible. Mutating meant certain death—a process that once set in motion could never be halted. The fact that Tess still drew breath only added to her confusion.
Tentatively, she lifted the end of her shirt, searching her tummy for any trace of the horrific wound she had suffered. To her bewilderment, there was no scar, no sign of the savage attack. Her arms, too, were devoid of any blood or marks.
With a mix of curiosity and trepidation, Tess undid a single button on her shirt, revealing a hint of what lay beneath. The thought of exposing her chest, where she had been viciously slashed, crossed her mind, but she dismissed it immediately.
Stripping down right then and there would undoubtedly raise questions and suspicions among those around her. Nevertheless, an instinctual feeling told her that even if she were to reveal her bare chest, no evidence of the attack would remain.
"If I died like how you said I did, why isn't there a single scratch on me?" Tess questioned, her fingers deftly fastening back the button on her shirt. She couldn't comprehend the absence of any visible injuries on her body.
"We must have healed," Szedra chimed in. "That's what Sensei told us happened to you after you fell off the mountain."
Tess couldn't help but loathe the mention of that peculiar incident. Determined to change the subject, she turned her attention to Lanse. "Keep talking, Lanse," she urged him, hoping to divert their focus away from her inexplicable survival. With her memories halted, she relied on their accounts to piece together the events that followed.
Lanse cupped both hands around his mouth, creating a makeshift cone, and spoke through it in a deep voice, mimicking the eerie tone of a thousand voices combined.
"Let's make this a bit more interesting, shall we? Let's see how many of you have to die before your comrade hands over the fragment," Lanse proclaimed, his voice filled with a chilling menace.
"Wait!" Zino interjected, her brows furrowed as she locked eyes with Lanse. "The fragment, why didn't you give it up? If you had done that right then and there, no one else would have had to die."
Lanse lowered the cone from his mouth, his eyes partially closed as he gazed at her. "Zinorra, you're not dead. None of us are," he stated, shifting his gaze to encompass everyone occupying their separate beds. "And do you really think they would have spared us if I had given up the fragment?"
Zack nodded in agreement, his conviction evident. "Lanse is right. Remember what happened to you, Zino?"
Zino's eyes widened before she turned her head away from the group, her long hair cascading over her shoulder, concealing any trace of her face.
Lanse's attention remained fixed on Zino, a sinister smile playing upon his lips, as if he saw her as another adversary to conquer. Raising the cone back to his mouth, he spoke again, his words laced with a solemn oath. "I swear on my nine million souls that I won't kill anyone else. Remember that?"
Zino shook her head, still refusing to face them.
Tess's curiosity burned within her, desperate to unravel the enigma that shrouded their conversation. "Remember what? What happened?" she probed, her voice filled with anticipation.
"After he swore not to harm anyone, that's when Zino took the plunge," Lanse recounted, his tone now tinged with a mix of awe and trepidation. "She was wicked."
"What?" Tess blurted, her mind grappling to understand the implications. Did he mean wicked in the sense of being impressively audacious, or did he imply something more sinister? Zino, in her experience, had never exhibited a trace of malevolence.
Zack placed a hand beneath his chin, deep in thought. "Wait, something happened before you died, Zino. What was it?"
Lanse continued his narrative, his anger subsiding and replaced with a peculiar amusement that stemmed from recounting a bone-chilling tale. "The hooded figure disappeared once again. His movements were so swift, his next victim never stood a chance," he revealed, his dark red eyes shifting toward the girl with black hair lying in the bed directly before him. "It was Szedra."
The air crackled with tension, each word a gateway to an increasingly enthralling and perilous journey. Zack's shoulders twitched involuntarily before he turned anxiously towards Szedra.
Lanse, positioned on Zack's right side, addressed her, his voice tinged with urgency. "Hey Szedra, tell us what happened."
Zack shifted his gaze from Lanse to Szedra, concern etched across his face. "Is that really necessary?" he questioned, his voice laced with trepidation.
"Fine," Szedra responded in her characteristic monotone, her tone revealing a hidden unease.
Zack redirected his attention to her, his voice filled with a mix of hesitation and protectiveness. "Szedra, you don't have to."
Tess, her arms folded in front of her, interjected firmly. "Zack, let her talk."
A nervous gulp resonated through the room, audible to all. Szedra averted her gaze downward, her feet stretched out on the bed, as she began to speak, her words drawn out slowly.
"I had plugged my ears and shut my eyes, so I couldn't have seen it coming," Szedra recounted, her voice wavering slightly. "I felt something hit me, a jolt that sent shockwaves through my body. When I opened my eyes, the scene around me was… incomprehensible. When my back hit against the bark of a tree and then another one, I realized I was falling. When I finally came to a stop, I caught a glimpse of the forest floor, but only through one eye."
She shifted her legs, crossing one over the other, and cradled her right arm, her voice cracking with emotion as she continued. "I couldn't move, and everywhere hurt." She lowered her gaze further, her chin nearly touching her neck.
"That's when Zino came," Zack added, piecing together the fragments of their collective memory in their correct order.
"No, there was more," Lanse interjected, his eyes fixed on Szedra, urging her to reveal the missing details. However, as the silence lingered, waiting for Szedra to continue, he pressed on.
"The hooded one approached Szedra's lifeless body sprawled on the forest floor. Gripping her by the hair, the sound of cracking bones echoed even from where I stood. He hoisted her up, forcing her onto her knees. Her left hand dangled lifelessly like a limp noodle, while the other was bound tightly in blood-soaked bandages. Blood streamed from her face, dripping from her chin."
Lanse brought his hands back to his mouth, forming the cone once more as he resumed speaking. "We advise you to consider your friend's life here. All we require is the fragment."
"Exactly!" Zino erupted, whipping her head in Lanse's direction. "You could have—"
"No! You still don't understand!" Lanse bellowed, cutting her off abruptly and silencing her protests. "This is when you jumped into that death trap down there. Only a complete fool would have leaped down there the way you did."
With every revelation that spilled from Lanse's lips, Tess found herself perched at the very edge of her bed, her senses on high alert. Her heart pounded in her chest, a steady drumbeat that matched the tempo of the unfolding narrative. Her breath caught in her throat, as if she could barely contain her anticipation for what would come next.
Lanse's narrative voice was a force to be reckoned with, a symphony of intonation and inflection that brought the words to life. It resonated with a magnetic power, drawing her deeper into the story's embrace. It was as if his voice held an otherworldly quality, carrying the weight of countless tales he had already devoured from his reading device, infusing his words with an undeniable allure.