Zilong lay there in the empty engine room, the sounds of steam and dripping water the only noise in the dark space. All the lights in the lower engine room had turned red, and that was all he could see.
"So that's who the wraith was..." Zilong whispered, terrified.
To merge with your own shadow, the darkest part of your soul, and become corrupted—that's what had happened to Kazuya.
'Damn, that was horrific,' Zilong thought as he groaned and tried to stand, covering his wounds. Every move he made sent searing pain through his body, but he didn't have a choice. He limped over to where the ladder had been just moments before it was destroyed by the wraith's ruthless attack.
Now, Zilong had only one way to reach the ship's first floor: to jump. The idea seemed unrealistic given the rising water around his feet, but he had no other options. He leaped, sending a terrifying pain through his chest where his wounds were still fresh. He couldn't reach the ledge, so he tried again. And again. Each attempt was as painful and exhausting as the last. He was already at his limit. The height was too much for him—he was only 5 feet tall, a few inches shy of reaching it.
He sat in the water for quite sometime, contemplating his next move. Then, he decided to try once more. He jumped with all his strength and finally managed to grab the first floor's wooden ledge.
"Aargh!" he cried out as his sudden movement reopened his wound, and warm blood gushed out. The pain forced him to let go, and he fell back into the rising water.
He grimaced, struggling to stay above the waterline.
'Well, the ship is going to sink anyway...' he thought. But then another thought crossed his mind: the wraith. It wasn't just a monster; it was once a human with real feelings.
Zilong pushed himself up again. "I have to reach it... the wraith... I have to reach it," he groaned, determination fueling his resolve. He needed to do one thing—comfort its vengeful spirit.
He looked at the upper floor tiles, squinting. Summoning every ounce of strength, he jumped again. Grabbing the wooden floor tiles, he grimaced as the wound stung like never before, but he gritted his teeth and endured the pain, pulling himself up with all his might.
*Jacob's POV*
"Damn!" Jacob cursed as he dashed through the corridors. Just a second ago, the spot where he had stood burst open with a loud *boom*. He glanced back to see a massive figure pursuing him.
"You can't run forever..." it taunted as two huge scythes hurtled toward him. Jacob took a sharp turn, gritting his teeth, not even bothering to look back at the explosion behind him.
"I hope Zilong's plan works," he muttered, recalling the plan.
*Jacob's Flashback*
"Are you sure about this?" Emma asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I'm positive," Zilong nodded.
"So, you think the ritual the wraith is performing in the middle of the ship is the key to defeating it?" Jacob crossed his arms, skeptical of Zilong's strategy.
"Yes. I've been watching the wraith closely. It seems very cautious about anyone approaching that area. Anyone who wanders there causes the wraith to act more aggressively, so there must be something it treasures or a secret that could lead to its demise," Zilong explained.
"So, you're saying the wraith has a weak point. Why not just stab it?" Jacob suggested.
"Because someone already tried that," Zilong replied, his expression deadpan. "A chef tried to stab the wraith in front of me the day before yesterday. She stabbed it everywhere, even in its head, but it didn't die. That leads me to believe the wraith has a weak point that's not part of its body."
The others looked at him in surprise.
"So, there's a ritual the wraith is performing, right?" Emma asked.
Zilong nodded.
"Then all we have to do is destroy the ritual!" Jacob laughed.
*Back to the Present*
*Emma's POV*
Emma and Ava quickly made their way to the center of the ship, navigating the bloodied corridors until they reached the grand hall where the massacre had begun. They stared at the hall, which was riddled with blood.
Ava gasped, pointing to a specific area. Emma spotted it too.
In the middle of the once-glamorous hall lay a pile of mangled flesh—remains of all the people who had been killed. The flesh moved unnaturally, almost as if it were alive, stretching and retracting like a living entity. Emma covered her nose against the unbearable stench that filled the air.
She made her way toward the writhing mass, pulling a kitchen knife from her bag—a knife she had found while scavenging for food in the ship's kitchen.
As they approached the grotesque heap, the entire room fell silent. It was as if the mangled corpses sensed something approaching. The flesh wiggled slightly, and as Emma got closer, she heard faint whispers—screams of horror, the final cries of the crew before they died.
Emma gripped the knife in her hand and swung it at the flesh.
*Clang.*
She felt the blade hit a solid surface. The flesh was much harder than it looked; what seemed soft and squishy was actually as tough as stone. Her eyes widened as she struck again and again.
Then, from the main entrance to the hall, a large figure appeared. "Ha, I caught you," it said, its voice filled with bloodlust that permeated the room.
"What? How?" Emma stammered, eyes wide with terror. Ava was visibly shaken, paralyzed by fear.
They were caught...