It all happened so fast that nobody had time to react. One moment, Kyle was mid-sentence, talking to Seth.
The next—
A soundless ripple formed in the air, like heat distorting the air itself.
Then... it was there.
A tall, lanky figure appeared behind Seth, its presence so sinister it seemed to suck the warmth from the room. It wore a tattered black suit, the fabric slightly loose, and atop its narrow head perched a crooked top hat that hid its features besides the sick and twisted smile that marred its pale face.
Kyle's breath caught. The thing raised one arm, and slowly, almost lovingly, traced its long fingers along the side of Seth's neck.
'When did it….'
By the time clarity returned to Kyle's mind and he started to react, Seth slowly raised his hand and placed his finger over his lips.
His calmness was so unsettling that it left Kyle momentarily at a loss.
Perhaps, it was a good thing that he didn't speak, because... Allerman, a Third Order Recruit, spoke before anyone could, his voice echoing loudly.
But that was probably his worst mistake.
"Fuck! Hurry! I'll—!"
It was as if the words summoned it.
A few brief moments after he opened his mouth, a figure would materialize behind him, its lanky body casting a large shadow over him as the moonlight flickered in.
Crack—!
Allerman's hand snapped upward at a weird angle, bones cracking like dry twigs. Before he could even draw breath to scream, a hand clamped over his mouth, thin and slender fingers curling over his face.
"...!"
CRACK!
Muffled, panicked cries leaked through as his other arm folded backward with a sickening crunch. His legs buckled next, knees bending the wrong way, and his body limped down.
Thud.
He fell to the floor, his expression twisting as a figure loomed before him.
It had all happened so fast that nobody even had the time to react, leaving everyone at a complete loss whole staring down.
Silence.
The room was silent as Allerman remained on the ground, his body twitching.
What in the world just happened?
How…
"Haaa—!"
A scream followed right after.
Iris, a blonde recruit of the Third Order, whipped out her special gun, aiming it at the twisted figure. At the same time, her mind churned, her nodes flaring up, turning her eyes blue.
She was ready to attack it with all she had.
"You sick bastard! I'll fucking kill—!"
But...
CRACK!
"HA!"
The moment she raised the gun, her elbow bent with a sharp pop, folding inward as if her bones had turned to soft clay. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she crumpled to the floor like a broken doll, eyes wide and dazed, the weapon slipping from her grasp.
Thud!
The sound was met with a brief moment of silence.
But then...
Changes began to occur to her.
Her skin began to pale and thin, pulling tight against her skull. Veins darkened, shriveling beneath the surface of her body. Her limbs twitched once, then stiffened... and then, her frame began to whither.
Her lips cracked, her cheeks hollowed, and her eyes, still open, began to cloud over, watching nothing.
She was still alive...
Kyle watched the entire scene with bated breath, his entire body stiff.
This was the first time... the first time he felt this much at a loss.
His mind was blank, and his mouth was dry. This anomaly... It was without a doubt of a high order. Kyle felt helpless. He didn't have enough information.
He—
No, wait.
All of a sudden, Kyle had a certain thought as his face slowly turned towards Seth, who remained standing still, his expression strangely calm as his finger continued to press against his mouth.
What was he trying to say? To stay quiet...?
Their eyes met, and Seth nodded slowly.
Kyle's brows rose, but eventually, turning to look at the others, he also placed his hand in his mouth.
'Stay quiet! Don't make a sound!'
Though he didn't say the words, he tried to convey the message with his eyes.
Thankfully, the others listened, shutting their mouths and keeping their breaths in check. It was also in that moment that the anomaly stopped moving, its gaze locking into Seth, who closed his eyes.
Seth was well aware of his circumstances. The Twisted Man... was merely having fun at this point.
It had already found him, and so, it was now just slowly killing everyone who was making a sound.
This situation…
It had now turned into a game for it.
Games he loves, games he plays.
Recalling a certain verse in the poem, Seth was sure of it.
All of this…
It was the Twisted Man's sick game.
Slowly arriving behind Seth, the Twisted Man's long and scrawny fingers scraped against his neck once more as blood started to seep out, forming long lines of red that ran down his neck.
It then turned his attention towards the remaining people, almost as if it was challenging them to make a move.
To make a sound.
But now, no one dared to make a sound. Everyone was aware of the current circumstances as Kyle's and the others' minds churned, trying their best to resolve the situation.
But then...
"H-elp."
A sudden cry for help echoed.
All heads turned towards one of the members on the floor, their eyes widening.
This voice...
Everyone was familiar with it.
It was Iris's voice.
"P... please, help. I... am still alive. It's not too late."
As her voice echoed, Kyle licked his lips, his mouth opening. But just as he did, he saw Seth from the corner of his eye with his finger on his lips, his head slowly turning to stare at the lanky man behind him.
Zoey and Raymond also appeared to have gotten the message, but...
"I can't see... Where are you guys...? I..."
"Iris, just hold—!"
Richard!!
CRACK!
Not everyone managed to get the message, and right then, a figure appeared behind them, their arms and legs snapping at unnatural angles before they limply fell to the floor.
Kyle's face tensed at the sight, his body twitching as he wanted to help, but realized he couldn't.
'Shit! Shit! Shit!'
Kyle clenched his teeth, his muscles tensing as he tried his best to remain calm.
He knew this was all a trap.
He couldn't talk. He had to remain quiet.
Thud!
The surroundings turned quiet once more, all eyes turning towards the Twisted Man standing behind Seth, its smile reaching into its top hat.
Tensions rose to the extreme as they stared at the Twisted Man.
But as if that wasn't bad enough, the Twisted Man soon moved away from Seth and onto one of the walls, its long and slender finger pressing against the rotten wall as it began to carve something on it.
Within the silence, a loud scraping sound filled the room, grinding into their ears, clawing at their sanity.
Skrrr Skrrr
The sound was all they could hear, sucking the very air out of their lungs and twisting their stomachs with each scrape.
It felt as though it continued forever, but then—
The noise stopped, and a poem appeared.
Tick-tock, listen, don't make a sound,
Or else the Twisted Man comes around.
He walks in echoes, he creeps in noise,
He feeds on whimpers, he drinks your voice.
First, just a shadow, then at your back,
His fingers hum where the sound waves crack.
Speak but a word, and he'll draw near,
Scream but once, and he'll appear.
Games he loves, games he plays.
His voice may change, but his appearance will not.
Careful of the voice, as it may be his.
So bite your tongue and mute your cries,
Lest your last sound be his whispered lies.
The Twisted Man won't leave, you'll find…
Unless you leave your voice behind.
Slowly turning its head, the Twisted Man looked at them, its wide and grotesque smile twisting even further.
Though no words were said, everyone understood then.
This poem...
It was a message.
A message telling them that this was a game.
A game between it and them.
The Twisted Man was welcoming them.
Welcoming them to its twisted game.