As they moved through the kitchen, Zellrid's stoic expression didn't falter at the gruesome sights around them.
Tobias announced to the curious onlookers, his voice cracking slightly, "New exterminator. Nasty rat infestation in the upper floors."
The staff, covered in blood and viscera, eyed Zellrid warily. One of the kitchen workers whispered to another, loud enough for Zellrid to hear with his enhanced senses.
"Blimey, that's one scary-looking rat killer. You see that eye of his? And that sword?"
His companion nodded nervously. "Aye, never seen an exterminator armed like that. Looks like he could take down more than just rats, if you know what I mean."
A third chimed in, "Let's just stay out of his way. Something tells me he ain't here just for the rodents."
Zellrid ignored their chatter, his face an impassive mask as he followed Tobias through the gore-splattered kitchen.
A severed hand lay grotesquely splayed on the grimy cutting board, its pale fingers twitching spasmodically in the dim light.
Crimson rivulets seeped from the ragged wrist, pooling into dark, viscous puddles on the stained wood.
Blood-soaked aprons, once white but now drenched in a macabre tapestry of gore, hung limply from rusted hooks, dripping a steady, mournful cadence of scarlet droplets onto the cold, cracked floor.
Few seconds passed until Zellrid and Tobias emerged from the kitchen into a vast, eerily silent hall. Moonlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting grotesque shadows across the floor.
Zellrid's gaze locked onto the bloodstained claw marks raking down a nearby door. He grunted, inspecting the grotesque signs of violence. "Seems your rat problem's worse than I thought."
Tobias shuddered, his voice a tremor. "That's... that's not from rats."
They navigated through empty corridors, each door they passed bearing similar violent marks. Shredded hangings drooped limply from the walls, their once rich colors now muted by dust and neglect. The acrid stench of fear tainted the air.
"Where is everyone?" Zellrid muttered, his hand hovering near his sword hilt.
Tobias's eyes darted nervously, his whisper barely audible. "Most of the staff... they don't last long. Lord Joseph, he... he has quite an appetite."
As they climbed the grand staircase, Zellrid's ears pricked at a faint scrabbling sound. He lifted a hand, halting Tobias.
A squeak escaped Tobias. "What was that?"
"Nothing good," Zellrid replied, eyes narrowing as he scanned the shadows.
From the darkness, an emaciated figure lunged at them, more beast than man. In a swift, practiced motion, Zellrid drew his blade and dispatched the creature with a lethal strike.
"Fuck," he growled, wiping the blood from his sword. "That wasn't in the contract."
Tobias stared at the twitching corpse, his face blanching. "Those... those are the lucky ones. The ones Lord Joseph doesn't finish."
"Lucky," Zellrid echoed, "Right."
They resumed their ascent, the oppressive silence broken only by the rhythmic echo of their footsteps and Tobias's ragged breaths.
Zellrid's voice rumbled through the still air. "So, how'd a scrawny thing like you end up in this hellhole?"
Tobias flinched, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "I... I needed the coin. My mother, she's sick. I didn't know... I swear, I didn't know what this place was."
Zellrid grunted, a shadow of understanding in his eyes. "Never do, till it's too late."
As they reached the upper floor, the air grew thick with a miasma of decay. Bloody handprints smeared the walls, and deep gouges scarred the floorboards.
"His chambers are just ahead," Tobias whispered, pointing to an ornate door at the end of the hall.
Zellrid nodded grimly. "You've done your part. Get out of here while you still can."
As Tobias scurried away, Zellrid approached the door, "Time to earn my coin," he muttered, reaching for the handle.
The ancient hinges groaned as Zellrid heaved open the iron-bound door, his calloused hand instinctively tightening around the worn leather of his sword hilt.
The chamber beyond lay shrouded in an oppressive gloom, pierced only by the fitful light of guttering candles that painted writhing shadows upon the stone walls.
Zellrid's pupil dilated, adjusting to the murk, revealing a tableau that made his weathered face tighten with grim recognition.
"Fuck," he growled, his gravelly voice barely above a whisper. "What kind of monster are you, Joseph?"
The room was a nightmarish canvas of depravity. Malformed corpses hung suspended from rusted chains, their twisted limbs a mockery of the human form.
Glassy eyes stared accusingly from slack-jawed faces, eternally fixed in expressions of abject terror. Viscera spilled from rent abdomens, forming gelatinous puddles on the gore-slicked floor.
Against the far wall loomed a profane altar, its framework an intricate weave of bleached bones and desiccated sinew.
Garlands of entrails draped its surface like obscene decorations. Blood oozed from unseen sources overhead, forming rivulets that converged into a crimson tide creeping inexorably towards Zellrid's mud-caked boots.
Amidst the carnage, eldritch tomes bound in what could only be human skin lay splayed across a massive oak table, its surface stained dark with old blood.
Arcane glyphs writhed across their pages, pulsing with an otherworldly malevolence that set Zellrid's watch humming against his wrist.
The eerie silence of Joseph's chamber shattered as the stone wall exploded inward. Through the dust emerged a towering figure in pitch-black armor, his presence radiating an aura of dread.
Zellrid's singular red eye narrowed, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to dodge as a massive blade cleaved the air where his head had been. In one fluid motion, he drew his black sword, electricity crackling along its length.
The knight said nothing, his featureless helm betraying no emotion. Only a low, menacing hum emanated from the armor, growing in intensity as he advanced.
Zellrid's gravelly voice cut through the ominous drone. "Quite the welcome committee. I don't suppose you'd care to introduce yourself?"
The nameless knight's only response was another devastating strike, forcing Zellrid to parry. The impact sent shockwaves through Zellrid's arm, testament to his opponent's inhuman strength.
The knight fought with terrifying efficiency, each movement precise and lethal. No wasted energy, no hesitation - just the constant, oppressive hum and the glint of black steel.
Zellrid's lips curled into a sardonic grin as he danced away from another crushing blow. "Not much for conversation, are we? That's fine. I prefer to let my blade do the talking."
With a burst of speed, Zellrid feinted left before pivoting right, his black sword arcing towards the knight's helm. The knight blocked, but Zellrid had anticipated this. Using the momentum of the parry, he spun low, aiming a sweeping kick at his opponent's legs.
The knight stumbled, momentarily thrown off balance. Seizing the opportunity, Zellrid unleashed a barrage of lightning-fast strikes, each blow punctuated by a crackle of electricity from his enchanted blade.
"Come on, big guy," Zellrid taunted, his voice a low growl. "Is this the best Lord Joseph's pet can do?"
The knight's response was a sudden, brutal charge. Zellrid barely had time to brace himself before being slammed against the stone wall, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs.