Shoggoth-Britney lunged, tentacles whipping through the air with a wet, sharp sound. Koby spun his hatchets, the blue glow of his Dual Bite skill leaving faint afterimages as he dodged and hacked. He severed one tentacle, then another, black ichor spraying across the floor. James moved with focused precision, his sword a silver blur as he parried and slashed, cutting through rubbery flesh.
But James was tiring. The creature's attacks came from too many angles, and its regenerative speed was unnerving. For every tentacle severed, another seemed to twitch back into motion.
Suddenly, an idea sparked in Kai's mind. "James, head straight in!" he shouted. "Koby, hack off the tentacle attacks. I'll try to pin her in place so you can finish her off!"
Spitting out blood from a split lip, Koby nodded. He rushed forward, his movements a furious dance of evasion and violence, creating a narrow path through the writhing limbs. James seized the opening, darting in low and fast, aiming for the monster's thick, pulsing neck.
The creature understood the threat. With a guttural shriek, it tried to scramble back, but Kai fired an energy arrow that slammed into its shoulder, pinning it momentarily against the wall. Cornered, it went berserk, abandoning all defense and concentrating a storm of tentacles solely on James.
In that frozen, desperate second, Koby leaped. Using the wall for leverage, he spun through the air, both hatchets crossing in a glowing X aimed at the monster's neck.
The impact sent a jarring shock up his arms. The neck was tougher than wood—like hacking at dense rubber and bone. The hatchets bit in but didn't cleave through. Koby's heart sank. Not enough.
"Honing Beam—fire!"
Kai's voice was sharp with strain. A thick, coruscating beam of condensed light shot from his bow. The monster, predictably, tried to dodge, but the beam curved in mid-air, redirecting with impossible accuracy. It struck the exact spot where Koby's hatchets had bitten deep.
There was a sickening, wet tear.
The Shoggoth-Britney's head toppled from its shoulders, hitting the floor with a dull thud. The body slumped, twitching violently before falling still.
Koby slumped against the wall, gasping. Only then did the pain register—a hot, piercing agony in his right shoulder. During the scuffle, a tentacle tip had speared clean through the muscle. Blood soaked his sleeve, dripping steadily onto the floorboards.
"Everyone okay?" Kai asked, his voice ragged. He moved first to Jugo's body, pressing fingers to his neck. Cold. No pulse. He glanced at the decapitated monster, its form already beginning to soften and liquefy slightly at the edges. "It's some kind of parasite," Kai murmured. "It takes over the bodies."
"This is bad," James said, wiping his blade on a torn curtain. His eyes flicked to Koby, who was trying—and failing—to hide his pain as he pressed a hand over the bleeding wound.
"And whose fault is it?" Koby asked, his voice laced with sarcasm and pain.
Raya was already moving. She knelt beside him, her face pale but determined. Gently, she moved his hand aside and placed both of her palms over the injury. A soft, green light shimmered from her skin, warm and soothing. The flesh beneath knit together, the bleeding ceased, and within moments, only a faint pink scar remained, as if the wound had never been.
Koby flexed his shoulder, marveling. "So you have healing abilities?" he said, a genuine, weary smile touching his lips. "It suits you."
Raya's eyes were troubled. "How did you know there was something wrong with Britney?"
Koby's smile faded. He looked away, toward the barricaded door where the night's horrors still seemed to whisper. "I didn't."
The air in the room remained tense, thick with the smell of blood, ozone, and fear. No one spoke much after that. They sat in a small, defensive circle, facing the door and the window, weapons within reach. Exhaustion eventually won over adrenaline, and one by one, they fell into a shallow, uneasy sleep.
A loud bang from somewhere deeper in the mansion jerked them awake. Pale morning light filtered through the cracks in the barricaded window. They stirred, stiff and sore.
Then, a new chill settled over them.
Britney's body was gone.
"It's gone," Raya whispered, the words sending shivers down everyone's spine.
They listened intently. From beyond their door, they could hear movement—cautious footsteps, low voices. Others had survived the night and were emerging from their hiding spots. Silently, they moved their barricade and stepped out into the hallway.
The scene was unnerving. No bodies. Despite the symphony of screams and crashes they had heard all night, the corridors were clear of the dead. Only dark stains on the floor and walls hinted at the violence.
"Looks like there wasn't much casualty," Raya said, heaving a sigh of tentative relief.
"Yeah," Koby replied, his eyes scanning the empty hallways. "It's very concerning."
"Concerning? We should be thankful," Raya said, looking at him in surprise.
"With all the screams we heard last night, there should be bodies littering the floor," Koby explained quietly.
"I agree," Kai said, coming up beside him. "There's no way everyone survived that."
As more survivors crept out, gathering in the grand hall, one figure in the crowd made Koby freeze.
"Isn't that… Britney?" he asked softly.
Raya followed his gaze. There, standing near the shattered front doors, talking quietly with a small group, was the girl they had watched transform, fight, and be decapitated just hours before. She looked whole. Human.
They weren't the only ones seeing ghosts. All around the hall, murmurs of confusion and rising panic spread as people pointed at faces they were sure they'd seen die.
"I'm guessing Shoggoths have the ability to possess dead bodies, huh?"
The calm, carrying voice came from the grand staircase. Rory stood there, leaning against the banister, looking down at the crowd with an analytical detachment.
Everyone turned to look at him.
"And how do you know that?" Koby called up, a skeptical smirk on his face.
"They're sensitive to my Sound Manipulation Technique," Rory returned the smirk. Then, without ceremony, he raised a hand. "Resonance."
A low, sub-audible hum filled the air, vibrating in their teeth and bones. Then it swelled into a painful, piercing frequency. Everyone cried out, clapping hands over their ears. But among them, some figures began to twitch. Their forms shimmered, faces blurring, limbs jerking unnaturally as the sound waves disrupted whatever held their stolen flesh together.
Rory chuckled, a cold, clinical sound. "If you're not a Shoggoth, get down!"
He clasped his hands together. "Crescendo."
A visible, circular wave of concussive sound energy erupted from him, slicing horizontally through the room. It passed harmlessly over those who had dropped to the floor, but it tore through the disoriented, twitching figures. Flesh parted, not with blood, but with spurts of black ichor.
The severed Shoggoths hit the ground—but they didn't die. The pieces writhed, beginning to slide back toward each other to regenerate.
"Their weakness is fire!" a sharp voice shouted.
A girl with a fierce expression and sparks dancing at her fingertips stepped forward. She thrust out her hands, and a jet of roaring flame engulfed the nearest regenerating mass. It shrieked—a truly inhuman sound—and shriveled into ash. Other survivors with fire magic sprang into action, torching the remaining Shoggoths until nothing was left but scorch marks and a foul, acrid smoke.
"Well, this is exciting," Rory remarked, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
The remaining survivors—far fewer now—gathered in the largest hall, a space of cracked marble and toppled statues. The atmosphere was a mix of shell-shocked silence and frantic, whispered planning. Factions were already visibly forming, knots of people banding together for safety.
Koby's eyes found the fire-wielder from earlier. She was sitting alone against a wall, trying to tie a strip of cloth around a gash on her leg—a injury from barely dodging Rory's Crescendo. She wasn't having much success.
He walked over. "Are you alright?"
She glanced up, her eyes a sharp, intelligent gray. She gave a short nod and went back to struggling with the knot.
"That was some quick thinking with the fire spell back there," he said.
"I just used what I had to survive," she replied flatly, not looking up.
"Here, let me help." Koby took the cloth from her hands. His movements were practiced, efficient. He'd done this before—in a different life, for sports injuries, never for wounds from monsters.
"Thank you," she said quietly once he'd finished.
"Can I ask you a question?" Koby asked, settling beside her against the wall.
She nodded her approval.
"What do you think about the Shoggoths? We have a week and some days left."
She let out a short, humorless laugh. "I say we're all possibly going to die."
"Your reason being?"
"Shoggoths can assume the flesh of those they kill." She spoke quietly, her eyes scanning the tense hall. "That sows seeds of doubt. That sound user can't be everywhere at once. We're moving on a thin thread, and a little pressure can snap it." She gestured subtly toward the forming groups. "Everyone's already forming factions in hope of survival. It's going to be a brutal week."
Koby was surprised by her clarity, her cold assessment of their hopeless odds. Before he could respond, a tall, serious-looking boy approached.
"We're all gathering to plan the next move, Zara."
"Well, I have to go now," she said to Koby, pushing herself up. "Thank you." She began to walk away with the boy, then paused, looking back over her shoulder. Koby had spoken his next thought aloud without meaning to.
"What are our chances of survival?"
Zara met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "It's the end of the world. So I can't say for sure." Then she turned and disappeared into a side hallway, leaving Koby alone with the echoing dread of her words.