N.B : If you'd like to get early access to the next 13 chapters of Universal hope (Chapter 16-28) Chapter 16 (Night of terror), Chapter 17 (Counter), Chapter 18 (Sunrise), Chapter 19 (Binding wounds), Chapter 20 (Demonic prowl) Chapter 21 (The scent of prey-Part 1), Chapter 22 (The scent of prey-Part 2), Chapter 23 (Scourge), Chapter 24 (Hammer and axil), Chapter 25 (Purge-Part 1), Chapter 26 (Purge-Part 2), Chapter 27 (Purge-Part 3) and Chapter 28 (Ashes and Embers) for as low as $3 why not consider supporting me at Patreon.com/Weeb Fanthom. Your donations will be very much appreciated.
Everything had become quiet.
Dangerously quiet.
Eren's breath came in ragged, shallow gasps as he stared at the ghostly being floating before him. Phantom was free, his form wavering like smoke caught in moonlight even if it was still afternoon. The ghostly figure stretched his limbs, flexing elongated fingers as if savoring the sensation of being real again. His purple eye burned with a malice that made Eren's stomach twist.
"21 months" (If it isn't really accurate, then the math ain't mathing), Phantom mused, voice like ice dragged over bone. "21 months trapped inside that contraption, forced to watch as you fumbled with power you never deserved." He tilted his head, grinning with too many teeth. "And now? Now I am FREE."
Eren stumbled back, his pulse hammering so hard it hurt. How? The device contained all of the creatures he could transform form, including Phantom. So why is he out? This-This can't be real. The brunette took a glance at the device on his wrist; the usual bright green glow dimmed slightly. Does that all of the forms he has have a mind of their own?
Phantom tilted its head with a distorted chuckle having noticed the boy's gaze. It was deep, cruel, and resonant with ancient malice. "Oh, don't blame the toy. You did this, Eren. Your fear, your rage…your weakness." He drifted closer, his form flickering at the edges."The cracks in your mind became cracks in the Omnitrix."His voice dropped to a whisper."I should thank you boy, you are an extremely rear gem afterall."
"You're... not sup-p-posed to be out…" Eren stammered as he subconsciously backed away further, eyes wide in disbelief. "No... No, that's not possible. You're a transformation form. You're in this device. You-You're not real."
The ghostly figure paused, then let out a low, guttural laugh. "Not real? Not REAL?"
"Then let me help you see clearly…"
With a sharp rip, Phantom reached up and clawed tightly at his body, his form rippling in the process. His skin; if it could even be called that; then peeled away like a grotesque cocoon. The false flesh sloughed off to the grass, revealing the true horror beneath: a sinewy nightmare of monstrosity.
Phantom barely have any resemblance to how he was before, the only thing recognizable is the black lines running along its body. Long sharp claws replaced its pale fingers that tore through the flesh, underneath the torn areas were black and white striped tentacles that wiggled in a frenzy. But the head, Oh Walls, the head, was just beyond messed up. His head resembled an upside down skull; which had uneven teeth, black lips, and one purple luminous eye that blinked horizontally, casting flickering purple reflections across Eren's face.
Eren was as stiff as a board as he looked at the full features of Phantom, bile threatening to rise in his throat.
"My name," the abomination hissed, "is Zs'Skayr."
The name slithered into Eren's mind like a curse, heavy with a history he couldn't comprehend.
Zs'Skayr.
Not Phantom.
Zs'Skayr.
"This is what lies beneath the mask you wear so blindly," Zs'Skayr whispered. "You bonded with me through that cursed watch… but you never controlled me. You only delayed the inevitable." His claws extended, stretching toward a petrified Eren.
"Now… give me your body."
Eren's blood turned to ice as he stumbled back, tripping over a root and falling flat. "Stay away from me!"
Zs'Skayr chuckled, "Hardly."
Eren's body didn't wait, caught between flight, fight and freeze. He rolled off the ground frantically and ran before the ghostly abomination could get his hands on him.
The outskirt of the area blurred around him, branches whipping at his arms as he crashed through the undergrowth. Behind him, Phantom's laughter echoed, unbothered, amused.
"Run all you like, boy," the Ectonurite called after him. "There's nowhere you can hide that I won't find you." Eren's lungs burned. His legs screamed. But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Not when every shadow stretched too long, not when the wind carried whispers that weren't there. Not when there was a literal demon chasing him.
Suddenly a hand; cold, too cold; grabbed his shoulder making him scream on instinct. It forcefully whirled Eren as Zs'Skayr materialized in front of him, his grip like iron.
"Did you really think it would be that easy?" Zs'Skayr purred. His free hand reached for Eren's face, fingers elongating, distorting, ready to sink into his skin. Eren jerked back violently and fell to the floor, where sunlight broke through the canopy. A shaft of golden light cut between them, and the moment it touched Phantom's outstretched hand, the ghostly flesh sizzled.
Zs'Skayr let out a piercing shriek that reverberated through the vast area, recoiling violently as smoke curled from his scorched hand. He clutched it to his chest, hissing in fury and skeletal face twisted in rage.
"THE SUN?! You dare hide in the daylight like a worm?!"
Eren who was still on the ground, scrambled backward into the light, his limbs trembling.
"W-What are you?" The boy yelled out in fear.
Zs'Skayr's eye narrowed, full of ancient hate.
"I am the void between stars. The whisper between thoughts. The death of hope. The high ecto-Lord of Anur Phaetos, I am Zs'Skayr! And your body will be MINE!!!"
With that Zs'Skayr's body expanded unnaturally; floating upwards as his form casted a massive looming shadow over the tree line. The very air rapidly turned cold, and Eren could feel the buzz of dying light around him.
But he didn't stay to watch. Gripping his chest, Eren turned and ran, boots slamming into the earth, heart screaming louder than his mind. He bolted deeper into the sunlit clearing, away from the monstrosity.
"YOU INSOLENT BRAT! GET BACK HERE!" Zs'Skayr's voice echoed behind him, furious and thunderous. The euctonurite lord snarled at the retreating child, hovering at the edge of the shadows away from the sunlight."You can't stay in the light forever, Eren."His voice dripped with venom."Night always comes. And when it does?"His grin widened, needle-like teeth glinting. "I'll be waiting."
Eren didn't stop running even as the ectonurite's shrill voice voice chased him long after its shadow disappeared behind the trees.
Phantom-No…Zs'Skayr was free.
And he was coming for him.
____________________
It had taken a while for Armin and grandpa Arlet to have gotten back to their shack. The shack's rickety door creaked shut behind them, sealing out the camp's murmurs and the lingering scent of smoke from the evening cookfires. Armin hovered near the threshold, fingers worrying the frayed edge of his sleeve. His grandfather's 'home' (That's putting it nicely) was small; just a single room with a straw-stuffed mattress, a rusted stove, surprisingly some of his old books back from wall Maria arranged on the floor, and shelves lined with jars of dried herbs…but today, the walls felt like they were pressing closer with every breath.
Grandpa Arlet struck a match, the sudden flare illuminating the deep wrinkles around his eyes as he lit the candle lamp sitting on the ground. Golden light spilled across the dirt floor, revealing Armin's worried face.
"You've been quiet since we left the Yeagers…" the old man said with his gravely voice while he set the lamp on the table with a soft clink. "And don't tell me it's nothing. I've raised you since you could walk. I know when something's chewing at that big brain of yours."
Armin swallowed on some spit he didn't realize had been there. His throat suddenly felt too tight. "It's Eren." The blonde boy admitted, the words tumbled out before he could stop them. In truth he doesn't even know how to bring it out. "He's been... different. Since yesterday."
Grandpa Arlet's bushy eyebrows drew together. He gestured to the stool across from him. Armin sat, but his legs wouldn't stop bouncing. He stared at his hands like it was suddenly the most interesting thing to look at.
"He keeps zoning out, especially since yesterday." Armin whispered. "Seeing things that aren't there. And his skin-" He shuddered, remembering the black veins spiderwebbing beneath Eren's body yesterday. "There's something inside him, Grandpa. Something that's not supposed to be there."
The old man went very still for a moment before composing himself. "Inside him?"
"Phantom." The name tasted like ash in Armin's mouth. "One of the... the creatures in the device. But it's not like the others. It talks to him. Tried to control him as well. Yesterday, when Eren transformed into a new form with a lot of eyes—"
Grandpa Arlet's stool screeched backward before his grandson could complete his sentence making Armin flinch. His grandfather never reacted like this; never showed fear, not even when Wall Maria fell. But now? The old man's knuckles were white around the edge of the table; his breath was coming too fast.
"An Ectonurite" Grandpa Arlet rasped. "It's gaining sentience."
Armin's stomach dropped. "Ectonu-rite? Y-You know what Phantom is?"
For a long moment, the only sound was the lamp's flickering. Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of decades, Grandpa Arlet crossed to the far wall where a loose floorboard lay hidden beneath a pile of moth-eaten blankets. He pried it up with gnarled fingers and withdrew a book. It was thick and leather-bound, its cover was also embossed with a symbol Armin had only ever seen so many times…
…It was the device's unique symbol on Eren's wrist.
Armin's breath hitched. "What... is that?"
Grandpa Arlet set the book on the table with a thud that echoed like a coffin closing. Dust puffed from its pages as he flipped it open, revealing portraits that were too clean to be one; dozens of them; of creatures Armin partly recognized in horrifying detail.
Titan fist, Obsidian, Blitz, Savage… All of Eren's transformations and many more he doesn't recognize. And there, nestled between two creatures blog, was a page that made Armin's blood turn to ice.
Anur System
The sketches showed a cluster of spherical looking things of various sizes orbiting a gigantic dull one along with giant spider webs connecting each and every one of them, their surfaces were jagged with obsidian spires. Below it, species were cataloged like specimens. Although their writings were in a foreign language.
One had the appearance of a bat like kind of creature, the other looked like it had bandages wrapped all over is body, then another was…a massive dog? Though its snort says otherwise, another one looked like a stitched up creature; like it came apart and was fixed with threads of some sort; along with metal elongating from within its body, a horse whose skeleton was visible from the inside, a creature with fruit (or was it vegetable?) for a head, there were just a lot to cover for his curious eyes. Then there was phantom, while there was the way how the creature normally is, the other diagram was…something else. A skeletal horror with a single, bulging eye and skin that looked peeled back from phantom's 'normal' skin.
Armin's small index finger trembled as he traced the Ectonurite's description on a sticky paper. The handwriting was his grandfather's.
"A species of intangible, parasitic beings capable of possession and genetic assimilation. Highly intelligent, near-immortal, and notoriously difficult to contain. Ectonurites are also known to reproduce by overwriting the DNA of other species, effectively erasing the host's consciousness. The most dangerous of Anur System's triumvirate aside from the Vladats." (N.B: For die hard Ben 10 fans, if this ain't all accurate…it's a fucking fanfic! Don't read too much reading)
At the bottom, scrawled in frantic handwriting:
"If ever in contact with an Ectonurite, TERMINATE IT DOWN TO ITS VERY DNA STRAND AT ALL COST."
Armin's vision blurred. The words swam together, but their meaning was clear.
Phantom wasn't just a transformation; it was a predator.
And it was using Eren to escape. This, wasn't good…
Armin whirled toward his grandfather, voice cracking. "How do you have this?! How do you know any of—"
The old man's hand clamped over his grandson's wrist, silencing him. His grip was uncharacteristically iron. "Armin please lower your voice. People could hear you, the walls most especially have ears."
Armin felt…anger, confusion, betrayal? He couldn't tell, maybe it's all combined. His family always had been keen on getting information; dangerous ones; that's what had killed his mom and dad in the first place. But this…this was too much to process.
The old man's hand trembled as he released the grip from his grandchild, releasing a shaken sigh. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have responded that way." Grandpa Arlet then turned another page of the book, revealing yellowed notes filled with chemical formulas and sketches of DNA helixes.
Armin's curiosity had heavily died down with unsettled discomfort, and suspicion. "Why?" His grandfather didn't look him in the eye as he asked that question, making Armin all the more frustrated. His small hand stopped his grandfather from turning the next page, finally making him look him in the eye. "Grandpa. I want to-I need to know…how do you know of this? Why…?"
Heavy tension etched with the biological family, till the older figure broke the silence. "Because," Grandpa Arlet said, his voice suddenly sounding decades older, "I helped gather samples for that device on your friend's wrist; the Omnitrix. A lifetime ago." His finger tapped the Ectonurite page, leaving a small smudge on the parchment. "This one... this specimen was different. The others were willing donors, but the Ectonurite...was never meant to be in the first place. Along with the inhabitants of the Anur system." He trailed off, eyes distant. "How it got in, was a massive mistake."
Armin watched as his grandfather's throat worked silently, as if fighting some old memory. When he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper. "There are things in this universe even the Titans would fear, boy. And if that DNA belongs to him..." The old man suddenly snapped the book shut, making Armin jump. "Well. Some stories are best left unfinished."
The lamplight flickered across Grandpa Arlet's face, deepening the shadows in his hollowed cheeks. For the first time in Armin's life, his grandfather looked truly afraid. "And I fear greatly for not just Eren, but the walls if it is what I think it is."
"…Who Grandpa?"
"Its name…is Zs'Skayr."
"Zs'Skayr?"
"Yes. Now come, we don't have much time. Your friend is in deep danger." That's what Grandpa Arlet said as he quickly got up to retrieve his hat he had placed aside, heading for outside.
Armin didn't protest, but his baby face (Forgive me, I couldn't help it >-<) turned contemplative. Just how much was his grandfather hiding?
________________
Bran groaned as consciousness returned in jagged pieces. His head pounded like a drum, instantly regretting bolting upright from the dirt floor resulting in his vision swimming with dots between his eyes. Then he noticed a discomfort around his jaw, his fingers brushed against his cheek, it was swollen and red. The contact seemed to have made his fogged memory come rushing back in fragments; the memory came back in fragments: the sudden crash of bodies, the infuriating confrontation, and then…black. Knocked out cold by the same green-eyed brat that had been acting like a skittish animal since arriving. Eren fucking Yeager.
"That little shit…" Bran growled, pushing himself to his feet. "He hit me."
Not just hit him, knocked him out cold.
Bran's lip curled in fury as he staggered to his feet, wiping dirt from his trousers. The refugee camp sprawled around him, bathed in the orange glow of late afternoon where he was just lying down outside the edge of a refugee housing zone. People moved about their business, oblivious to the rage simmering in his chest.
No one humiliated him like that. No one.
The blonde pre teen spat to the side, rubbing his jaw. How dare he? That little coward would regret laying a finger on him. His eyes scanned the area, searching for that familiar mop of brown hair, that defiant glint in those too-green eyes. But Eren was nowhere to be seen.
Just as he kept on searching, something tugged at his instincts. There; faint footprints pressed into the dirt, heading away from the camp. It was fresh.
Bran narrowed his eyes as he examined the footprints ahead, then noticed they were not adult sized. In fact, it was the footprint of a child. Only one person came to his mind for the pre teen.
Bran smirked. "You're not getting away that easy, little runt." He muttered then began following the trail. His steps quickened in irritation as he moved past the last of the tents and into the thinning trees at the camp's edge. The forest was…quieter here; the usual chatter of refugees faded into an eerie stillness, but Bran brushed it off. The footprints grew messier, as if Eren had been running.
Good. Let him be scared.
Bran rounded a thick oak, thinking of ways he'd scare the life out of Eren, make him beg for hitting him. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't noticed at first how much the world's tone around him shifted, only that the air grew still and unusually heavy. The camp's muffled life had long since faded behind him as the trees opened up to a clearing at the outskirts. Beyond it, the orange hue of sunset painted the horizon. Shadows were longer here. Deeper. Wrong.
Bran paused…and froze.
Something was waiting.
There, in the shadow of the trees, stood a figure. No—not a figure. A nightmare.
Floating just above the ground was a skeletal and hunched creature, flesh-like tissue torn to reveal pale, twisted muscle beneath. Its 'skin' stretched too tight over jagged bones. Black linings encored all over its body, and it had long slender arms with needle length fingers and an unruly coiling tail that twitched.
It wasn't human, Hell, it wasn't anything.
The creature turned as if sensing Bran's presence. Dear walls, the head was the worst, an upside down skull that had a single bulbous purple eye fixated onto him…with predatory interest.
Bran's breath hitched. His body locked up, instincts screaming at him to run, run, run—!
"Y-You—" His voice cracked, voice caught between a scream and a breath. "Wh-What the hell are you?!"
A rasping chuckle left its maw. The creature tilted its head, its mouth-too wide, too many teeth-curled into a smile.
"St-Stay away from me you Gho-Ghost, FREAK! Stay away from me!" Bran gasped as he stumbling back. The name fell from his lips without thought; born of pure, primal terror.
That made the being pause. Its head tilted, as if amused. Slowly, it floated closer, predatory and deliberate. Then, to Bran's horror, it laughed, the sound like nails on glass.
"'Ghost…freak'…?" It echoed, savoring the name as if tasting it. "Hmm… Yes… That name will do. A ghost... and a freak. Fitting...Perhaps I'll keep that in mind."
Bran took a shaky step back, then another. He turned to bolt…but Zs'Skayr had other plans. His whip-like tail lashed forward impossibly fast, wrapping around Bran's ankle with bone-crushing force.
"Ah-ah-aahh" Zs'Skayr crooned, yanking him backward. Bran hit the ground hard with a yelp, the air in his lungs drove out by force. "Now where do you think YOU are heading to boy?"
Bran thrashed as he kept clawing at the dirt while his now frail heart hammered against his ribs. "L-Let me go! Let me—"
"Oh, I don't think so." Zs'Skayr said as he loomed over Bran, his single eye gleaming with cruel amusement. Then the ghostly being leaned close, its grin becoming impossibly wide."I won't be making the same mistake twice… I let the other one run. But you… you'll do nicely."
"No—GET AWAY—!"
Whatever scream Bran wanted to make was ripped from his throat as Zs'Skayr's form melted into his own. One second, it stood above him. The next, it was pouring into him, tendrils of alien shadow were forcing their way into Bran's skin, mouth, nose and his eyes.
Bran screamed internally.
It was cold. So cold. Like drowning in ice, like his veins were filling with liquid darkness. He gagged helplessly while his body convulsed as something else slithered into his mind, pressing against his thoughts, against his very soul.
No no no no!!! SOMEBODY HELP-ANYBODY. PLEASE HELP M—!
And then Bran just stopped struggling, his whole body went slack. For a moment, nothing moved, filling the entire forest with silence. A moment later, Bran stood…or rather, what was Bran. 'Bran's' limbs jerked unnaturally, almost like a puppet on strings. His head lolled to the side before snapping upright, his once-steel gray eyes were now a sickly, glowing purple.
A slow smirk turned to a grin that nearly split his lips. Too wide, too sharp.
"Ohhh," Zs'Skayr mused through Bran's stolen voice, flexing the boy's fingers. "This will do nicely."
The sun had nearly set in completion, the last golden rays fading into dusk. Zs'Skayr stepped out from the trees, Bran's body moving with a grace the real boy had never possessed, and the last light of sunset struck his face.
Nothing.
No pain. No burning. No recoil. The sunlight can't hurt him anymore, and there was no need to, as it was already dark.
'Bran' stood in it fully, stretching his limbs.
"Well…" Zs'Skayr muttered through Bran's voice, admiring the human form, "Perhaps these frail vessels aren't so bad after all…"
Then, with a chuckle that didn't belong to the boy whose face he wore, Zs'Skayr walked back toward the refugee camp. Smiling.
The Yeager boy is quite the trouble. He might as well get a bit of…assistance.
"Now. Where are you hiding…Eren?"
_______________
The camp was often different at night times. Most refugees had retreated into tents and shacks, leaving only the occasional flicker of firelight casting shadows across the dirt road and the drunken laughter of the Military Police stationed to "keep the peace." The air smelled of woodsmoke and the ever-present tang of unwashed bodies packed too close together...and cheap alcohol.
On duty, two MPs lounged near a barrel now turned table, passing a large bottle's content between themselves. Their rifles leaned against a nearby post, forgotten in favor of the cheap Garrison-brandy that burned its way down their throats and laughing loud enough to be heard across the tents. One swayed on his feet, raising a dented metal cup in a drunken toast.
"Another day, another pile of shit," the first MP; a heavyset man with a slight scar across his nose; grumbled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I swear, these refugees get more useless by the hour."
His companion; a younger man with a patchy beard; snorted. "Joan, at least we're not on corpse duty. Heard they still haven't figured out what killed that bastard in the irrigation ditch."
Joan shuddered at the mere thought of what they had witnessed earlier in the afternoon. "Fucking animals, probably. Or some psycho with a grudge."
Their conversation cut to a halt because a twig snapped behind them. Both MPs turned, half expecting another refugee begging for rations. Instead, it was a boy that stood at the edge of the firelight. Blonde hair, grey eyes, tinged an unnatural violet (?) in the dim light. Could be the fire's reflection doing that. His lip was split and his cheek swollen, but he was…smiling? Too wide in fact, it was borderline creepy. But they've seen worse for face.
"Oi!" Joan barked. "Kid, what the hell are you doing out here? Curfew's in effect."
The boy; Bran; (though it wasn't Bran anymore obviously) tilted his head. "I'm looking for someone." His voice was wrong. The cadence was off, the vowels stretched like mixed lyrics. "A boy. Brown hair. Green eyes. You've seen him, haven't you?"
Joan's partner; Agil; frowned. Was someone missing, hell, was it even their problem?! "Piss off, brat. We're not your messengers."
However, Bran's grin didn't waver. "Oh, but you will be." He stepped forward, and something about the way he moved made both MPs tense. His limbs jerked slightly, like a marionette with tangled strings. Then he stopped a few feet away, hands clasped neatly behind his back like some lordling about to deliver a lecture. "You'll do exactly as I say. Because as from now on, I am your master. Refuse, and there would be…consequences."
A beat of silence hung through the air. After which, chuckles busted into loud, raucous laughter from the two MPs. Clearly disbelieving at what they were hearing.
Joan nearly choked on his drink because of how much he was laughing. "Did this little shit just—?"
Agil wiped tears from his eyes. "Oh, that's rich. Master? Kid, you're barely tall enough to piss on my boots!"
Bran's smile stayed frozen. His fingers twitched at his sides as the two soldiers kept mocking him.
"Oh, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. I get it…" Agil continued, slapping the shoulder of Joan beside him. "You hear that Joan? We got ourselves a little king now. King Fritz's successor I presume?"
Joan merely scoffed and stood, looming over the daring boy. "Listen here, you little bastard. You don't talk to the military police of all people like that. Now scram before I—"
The man didn't finish his sentence. His hand shot out, grabbed Bran by the collar, and struck a heavy slap across Bran's face, snapping the boy's head sideways. Joan was expecting the boy to be crying. But instead, his head slowly rolled back to face the soldier. The grin had vanished.
…And Bran's eyes flared violet.
Zs'Skayr's voice bled through Bran's mouth fully, cold and flat. "You shouldn't have done that."
Agil that was seating down had an uncertain look on his face. Did the boy just changed his voice, or was the alcohol getting to him? On the other hand Joan scoffed, stepping forward again and getting to the boy's personal space up his face. "So what? What are you gonna—"
Whatever the MP was going to word out died in his throat because a sudden, unnatural cold seeped into his fingers where he had grabbed Bran's collar. It spread like frost, crawling up his arm, it was the kid's unnaturally cold hands that gripped his hand in a vice grip.
"What the—?" Joan tried to let go, but his fingers were clamped shut by the kid's much smaller hand. How?!
Bran leaned in, his breath fogging in the suddenly frigid air. "Now do you understand?" Agil stumbled back fumbling for his rifle. "H-Hey! Let him go!"
Bran's head swiveled toward him, neck bending too far. "If you insist." he whispered, and his voice wasn't just his own anymore. It was layered, distorted, like two voices speaking in unison.
Something peeled itself out of Bran's body. A shadow; thin, spindly, and messed up; rose up like a living nightmare, detaching from the boy's back. The MPs stumbled away as the creature's full height unfurled, that single bulbous purple eye fixing on its new prey.
Before Joan being the closest soldier to the abomination's presence could react, the ghost's claws were inside his chest; not cutting, not piercing…but sinking into him like liquid smoke. His scream curdled into a strangled gasp as his skin blanched and his eyes glazed over with a sickly purple glow. His movements grew jerky, marionette-like, until he stood unnaturally still.
When the possessed soldier opened his mouth again, it was Zs'Skayr's chuckle that emerged.
"Ah yes, you measly creatures will do for my minions." With that Zs'Skayr left Joan's body. Immediately he did, something else occurred. Though Zs'Skayr had left his body, Joan's skin split open; not torn, but unzipped, peeling back like the rind of a fruit. Beneath it, something black and writhing pulsed, tendrils of shadow like lines forced their way into the gaps. His eyes rolled back completely to the back of his skull before his jaw unhinged, and when his mouth opened again, it wasn't a scream that came out…
…It was laughter.
Guttural. Hungry. Horrendously wrong (The number of times I have said "wrong" throughout this arc is outstanding, I have to look for another word at this point).
The other MPs fired his musket in blind panic, the shots ripping through the night, but the ectonurite simply phased through the bullets, not bothered by the random shots fired at him.
"Are you finished?" Zs'Skayr mockingly asked.
Seeing no hope, Agil's rifle clattered to the ground in fear. He turned to run; but Zs'Skayr's elongated fingers shot out, until they speared through the MP's back and out his chest.
No blood. No wound. Just…cold. Agil gasped, his breath fogged in the air as his skin turned gray. His pupils dilated, swallowing the irises whole, until his eyes were voids of purple light.
Zs'Skayr withdrew his hand, watching as the two MPs twitched and shuddered, their bodies reshaping. Joan's jaw unhinged while his teeth began sharpening into needles. Agil's hands on the other hand cracked, lengthening into claws. By the time their transformation was complete. They looked completely different, save for some features that made them look relatively 'human', except their expressions were twisted, warped to great heights.
"Rise." Zs'Skayr commanded. And they did.
The two former MPs stood, their movements jerky, their heads lolled on broken-neck angles. Their skin had taken on a sickly pallor; while their veins blackened beneath the surface. Joan had a face twisted with a smile that had too many teeth and Agil had a disturbingly placed mouth opened to a silent scream (You know, think of how some pure titans have frozen expressions on their face).
"I had no intention for that parasite within your kind's bloodstream to meddle with your physique. No matter, as long as you're under my control." Zs'Skayr mused as he looked at the appearance of his new minions, they're meant to look like copies of an ectonurite; his kind; not end up like…this. Blasted parasite. The ecto-lord let out a rasping sigh. Now then…his one luminous eye caught wind of Bran who was still unconscious since he came out of him.
"Now. What to do with you?" Zs'Skayr murmured, drawing closer to the downed pre teen. A sickening idea popped to the ghost's mind. "…Ah, I know..."
Bran's face shifted from discomfort to pain in his state as the ectonurite's claws pressed against his chest. He had just enough breath to utter a silent scream before they sank in; not cutting flesh, but phasing through it, intrusive cold flooding his veins like liquid ice.
This made Bran convulse as his body began morphing, his eyes shuttered opened by being clouded over by violet light blooming where the pupils should be. His jaw slackened while all his limbs twitched uncontrollably. When Zs'Skayr withdrew, Bran remained lying down, only he wasn't Bran anymore. His skin had taken on a faint gray pallor; his features was frozen in an angry expression and his eyes glowed with that same alien light.
Zs'Skayr regarded his new servant with satisfaction. "Much better. Rise, little pawn… we have work to do."
Elsewhere, same time…
Things couldn't get anymore worse for Eren. His boots scuffed against the dirt path as he stumbled forward, breathing ragged from running non stop and his hands shaking. His skin still prickled with the memory of Zs'Skayr's touch-cold, invasive, revolting. The ghostly echo of the ectonurite's voice slithered through his mind, whispering promises of inevitability.
"You can't hide from me forever, Eren."
The brunette clenched his fists, nails biting deep into his palms. The pain was real. It grounded him.
I hurt Mikasa.
The thought struck him like a blade between the ribs. He could still see the way her wrist had darkened under his grip, the way her eyes had widened; not with fear of him, but for him. And then his mother's face, shattered with horror as she watched her son turn into something monstrous.
What the hell is happening to me?
The Omnitrix pulsed against his wrist, its green glow dim, flickering. Like a dying heartbeat.
"Eren!" The voice cut through the haze of his thoughts. Eren jerked his head up, his heart hammering in his chest from surprise and adrenaline.
Armin…
His best friend stood a few feet away as soon as his location, his usually bright blue eyes shadowed with exhaustion and something else, something like dread. Behind him, Grandpa Arlet loomed, his weathered face unreadable in the dim moonlight.
"Where the hell have you been?!" Armin demanded as he rushed forward. "We've been looking everywhere for you! Your mom and Mikasa—they're freaking out—"
Eren opened his mouth, but no words came out. What could he even say?
I lost control. I hurt Mikasa. And now there's a ghost from this device hunting me.
Grandpa Arlet stepped forward, his gaze sharp and assessing, like he was ready to spring up for action. "Eren," he said, voice low. "What happened?"
Eren swallowed hard. His throat felt like it was lined with glass. "Phantom—" His voice cracked. He forced himself to be steady, now's not the time. "No. Zs'Skayr. He's—he's out. He's not just a transformation anymore. He's alive, and he—he tried to take me—"
Armin paled. Grandpa Arlet's expression went deathly still. "Say that again," the old man whispered.
Eren's hands trembled. "The ghost one, Phantom. He's free. He peeled off his own skin and—and he chased me—"
A gunshot cracked through the night.
Then another.
Then…screams.
All three of them whipped toward the sound. In the distance, beyond the rows of tents visible in their sights; was smoke curled into the sky, blotting out the stars. The camp, which had been eerily quiet moments before, erupted into chaos. Shouts. Running footsteps. The panicked wail of a child.
Eren's stomach dropped.
"Night always comes. And when it does?"…
No.
…"I'll be waiting."
Armin grabbed his best friend's arm before he could spiral in his thoughts. "Eren, talk to me—what's happening?!"
But Eren already knew.
Zs'Skayr wasn't just hunting him anymore. He was hunting everyone.
And it's already started.
________________
The camp's peace had long since shattered as terrified screams erupted from nearby tents and shacks. Refugees stumbled from their tents, only to freeze at the sight of the things that had once been men…and the ghost that controlled them. Some ran. Others didn't make it that far.
Within minutes, that section of the camp was chaos. People trampled one another in their desperation to escape, shouts of "MONSTERS!" and "RUN!" rang through the darkness. Some fell, pinned by ghostly claws before Zs'Skayr slid inside them, leaving only more purple-eyed horrors in their wake and more thralls for Zs'Skayr to control. A few brave souls tried to fight, but their weapons passed uselessly through Zs'Skayr's true form, and they were claimed in turn. Aside from that, these creatures were acting like derailed titans, either attacking on Zs'Skayr's command or biting through whatever person's flesh they come in contact with.
Through it all, Zs'Skayr laughed. His laughter echoing and vibrating through the night like nails on steel. The ectonurite exhaled, savoring the terror radiating from the camp as the screams rung out more.
"Let the hunt…begin." Zs'Skayr purred, his tail lashing lazily as his possessed twisted servants flanked him like obedient hounds.
…Meanwhile…
Somewhere deep inside the prison of his own mind, Bran was screaming.
He couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't even breathe. All he could do was watch as his body moved without him, as his hands—not his, NOT HIS—reached for another victim. He couldn't stop the movement nor could he stop the carnage. All he could do was watch.
"P-Please…" Bran begged silently as tears streamed down his paralyzed face. "Someone… help…"
But no one came.
And as the last of his consciousness faded into the abyss, Bran realized he was indeed all alone, only the presence of this ghostfreak and the screams of many victims like him echoed in the prison of his mind.
And the worst part?
Every time he tore through someone's body or crushed them, it felt a little less…unnatural.
Chapter 16-28: Chapter 16 (Night of terror), Chapter 17 (Counter), Chapter 18 (Sunrise), Chapter 19 (Binding wounds), Chapter 20 (Demonic prowl), Chapter 21 (The scent of prey- Part 1), Chapter 22 (The scent of prey- Part 2), Chapter 23 (Scourge), Chapter 24 (Hammer and axil), Chapter 25 (Purge-Part 1), Chapter 26 (Purge-Part 2), Chapter 27 (Purge- Part 3) and Chapter 28 (Ashes and Embers) are already available on Patreon.com/Weeb Fanthom for as low as $3.