Neato sat in the blood-soaked room, his hands bound to the chair, a blindfold covering his eyes. He muttered to himself, his voice barely a whisper in the oppressive silence. The air was thick with the stench of death, and the cold, damp walls seemed to close in around him, amplifying his isolation.
"Hello, Neato," a voice purred from the shadows. Astran, the witch, appeared before him, her figure ethereal, almost blending with the darkness. "You look lonely."
Neato choked back a sob, his tears mixing with the blood that seeped through the blindfold. "Do I?" he whispered, his voice broken. "I didn't notice."
Astran chuckled softly, a sound that echoed around the room like a taunt. She glided closer, leaning in until her breath brushed against his ear. "Don't you want me to fix it?"
Before Neato could respond, the door creaked open, and the old man entered, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. In his hand, he held a pair of rusted pliers, the metal glinting in the dim light. "Neato, I'm back," he said, his tone almost cheerful. "Don't worry, all I need is a couple of toes from you, and I'll be on my way."
"What do you mean?" Neato's voice trembled with fear, his body tensing as the old man approached.
The man grinned, revealing yellowed teeth, and knelt before Neato. Without hesitation, he brought the pliers to Neato's foot. "Just a few toes," he said, his voice dripping with malice.
Neato's world exploded in pain as the pliers clamped down, cutting through flesh and bone. He screamed, a raw, agonized sound that filled the room. Blood pooled on the floor, and Neato's body convulsed with the shock.
Astran watched, her expression cold and detached. "Do you see now, Neato? Humans can't be trusted. All they care about is themselves. They don't care about others."
"Help me, please," Neato gasped, his voice barely audible through the pain. "Astran, help me."
The witch smiled, satisfied. "That's all you had to say."
In an instant, the room was engulfed in a blinding light, followed by a deafening explosion. Smoke billowed, thick and choking, filling every corner of the small space. The walls shook, and the sound of splintering wood and tearing flesh echoed through the chaos.
As the smoke began to clear, the old man's mutilated body was revealed, sliced cleanly in half. Blood and entrails spilled across the floor, a gruesome testament to the violence that had just occurred.
Neato was no longer the same. Where the young man had been, a monstrous figure now stood. His nails were long and black, sharp as claws. Strange, glowing markings covered his emaciated body, his skin charred black as if burned. His hair had turned to dark charcoal, and his once vibrant eyes were now empty voids, replaced only by a grotesque smile full of teeth. His appearance was skeletal, every bone in his body visible beneath his thin, tight skin.
He laughed, a sinister, bone-chilling sound that reverberated through the room, filled with madness and a darkness that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.
END OF CHAPTER 35