In another corner, there was a squad of five hunters pinned beneath the wreckage of a massive abomination, their backs broken and unable to move anything but their necks.
Blood was bleeding from their noses and eyes due to the psychological pressure crushing their minds.
They looked at their teammate "Marcus," the only hunter in their squad still capable of standing, though he was crying and vomiting from the horror of the aura.
"Marcus! Please!" one of them screamed, his throat tearing from terror.
"Kill us! Cut off our heads, Marcus! It's tampering with my memory! I see hell… I see hell walking toward us! Please, for the brotherhood between us, kill me before it arrives!"
"Don't leave us to him! Sever my head!" the second screamed, stretching his bare neck toward his teammate in sick desperation, exposing it as if offering the most precious sacrifice.
