Pugil Port.
Deep beneath the manor.
The once clear pool had become turbid and foul-smelling, and Abraham, bare from the waist up, had his lower half transformed into thick, twisted tentacles.
Every so often, he would drag a corpse out of the murky waters and then drain it dry.
He had grown taller since his arrival; he now resembled a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old boy in appearance.
His eyes were tightly closed, and his body was covered in large, bulging Blood Vessels. Strange energies swirled around him, and between his chest and abdomen, a pale fire flickered in and out of existence with his breath.
"Master, they are here."
A beautiful woman with long legs descended the stone stairs slowly; she was draped in a sheer cyan fabric, but clearly, Abraham paid no attention to such beauty.
He opened his eyes.
A fierce light flashed and vanished, the water churned but soon returned to normal. Abraham's body sank slightly, hiding his twisted lower half in the water.
