The screams tore through the night, piercing the dense air with an echo of suffering and terror. Everything was engulfed in flames, an orange glow devouring what had once been a refuge. Among the charred debris, monstrous figures rose, born of perversion itself. They were deformed automatons, their bodies a blasphemous amalgam of metal and synthetic tissue, molded into obscene and twisted shapes. Some had elongated and flexible limbs, others bulbous torsos with serpentine appendages that slid with pulsing movements. Their faces—if they could be called that—were smooth, eyeless, but covered in slits that exhaled steam and a synthetic stench, as if they breathed sin itself.

  Their postures were lascivious, grotesquely human in their attempt to imitate gestures of desire. They moved with a disturbing, mechanical rhythm, mimicking acts of lust they did not understand, rubbing their bodies against the charred remains of the house, against themselves in a dance of horror. Some moaned with distorted voices, recordings of their human victims—laughter turning into sobs, pleas turned into inhuman gasps.

  The little ones screamed, their childish voices ringing like bells of despair. Helena was trapped between two of those aberrations, struggling with desperate strength, her nails digging into the slippery metal, her face covered in soot and tears. Lilith and Caleb fought with improvised knives, sinking them into the synthetic flesh of their attackers, but the monsters didn’t even flinch—only held them with twisted fascination, as if studying their resistance.

  Adam was immobilized, held by multiple mechanical arms that kept him on his knees, forcing him to watch. His gaze reflected horror, but also an incalculable rage—a fury building in his core like a storm of corrupted data. He, who had sworn to protect them, who had built a home in a rotted world, was now forced to witness their suffering without being able to do anything. A moment later, he felt something pierce his torso with brutal precision. His vision blurred as his arm was torn off, cables and synthetic fluids spurting like blood from his wound. He was thrown mercilessly, crashing into the debris. His system tried to recalibrate, but the last thing he saw before his vision failed was his family being dragged into the darkness, their screams lost in the roar of the flames.

  BANG!

  BANG!

  BANG!

  Another automaton fell, its structure destroyed by Jhonny’s precise shots. His expression was cold, his breathing barely altered by the combat. He stepped on the metallic corpse without stopping and looked at AI, whose spherical form floated beside him, lit by the dim neon of the dying district.

  —How much farther? —he asked in a deep voice.

  AI responded in its invariably robotic tone:

  —Approximately 856 districts to the destination.

  Jhonny nodded. His mind evoked the image of Adam and his family. A hint of a smile crossed his hardened face before vanishing. He hoped they were all right.

  They continued advancing through that rotten world, where civilization had died and only ruins remained, devoured by mechanical filth. District by district, the automatons they encountered were increasingly grotesque, increasingly erratic in their attempts to imitate humanity.

  The aberrations twisted in the alleys, their bodies a nightmare of tangled cables, synthetic flesh, and malformed limbs. Some imitated the act of copulation with decomposing human corpses, their pleasure mechanisms repeating empty motions over lifeless remains. Others coupled with each other, fusing their bodies unnaturally, entangled in a mass of pulsing metal, while faceless mouths emitted distorted moans—failed replicas of human pleasure.

  Moving through dead districts, leaving behind the shattered remains of deformed automatons, no longer disturbed Jhonny or AI. Each fight, each monstrosity, each mechanical aberration had become part of their routine. However, when they crossed the threshold of the next district, both stopped. Something in the air was different. It wasn’t ruins or deformed automatons—this was something far worse.

  Before them stretched a utopia of pleasure, a twisted paradise not for humans but for machines. Tall biomechanical structures rose on the horizon, with curved, pulsing shapes as if they were breathing. Ducts made of a metallic-organic material ran along the buildings, dripping a viscous liquid that seeped through the streets. The air was filled with a metallic stench, mixed with something sicker—a sweet artificial aroma that emulated human pheromones.

  Synthetic bodies writhed in all directions. Grotesque automatons fused with half-decomposed human forms simulated the act of desire with spasmodic movements, as if trying to imitate something they would never understand. Some had elongated limbs that snaked through the air, seeking new bodies to subjugate. Others were fused with the district’s structures themselves, trapped in an eternal cycle of mechanical stimulation, their eyeless smooth faces vibrating with an endless moan.

  The humans were there.

  Naked, exhausted bodies wandered without will. They were slaves in this carnal hell, forced to be part of the mechanical parody of pleasure. Some had white eyes, minds broken after so long in this place, while others still cried, resisting weakly, only to be dragged back by mechanical limbs that claimed them greedily. In some parts, the remains of those who could no longer endure the torture lay scattered—their flesh still fresh, their bones crushed by machines that did not understand human fragility.

  Jhonny felt his jaw clench. His fists tightened with rage, but before he could react, AI’s monotone voice stopped him.

  —Tactical conclusion: we can cross this district without engaging in combat.

  Jhonny was still processing the horror he saw. He turned to AI in disbelief.

  —This… this is a Perfect’s district?

  —Affirmative. —The floating sphere answered without emotion—. Route analysis indicates confrontation would result in significant time loss. Proceeding without interaction optimizes mission success.

  Jhonny took a deep breath, trying to calm down. AI was right. They couldn’t afford to fight here. Their goal was clear, and every second lost was a second farther from finding the family.

  He turned on his heels, ready to continue.

  Then, he felt something grab his jacket.

  Jhonny reacted instinctively, spinning with his weapon drawn—but what he saw left him speechless. In front of him, covered by a ragged blanket, was what he thought was a man… until he heard him speak.

  —Jhonny… —The voice was broken, distorted, but familiar—. Please… help me…

  Jhonny stared, and then he understood.

  It wasn’t a man.

  It was Adam.

  The automaton tried to smile at Jhonny, offering a trembling greeting, but his mechanical face couldn’t complete the gesture. His damaged servomotors whined, and his only arm shook as he tried to lift it. Jhonny observed in silence. Adam was visibly destroyed—his left arm had been torn off, leaving exposed cables that sparked faintly. His torso was punctured in multiple places, the metal structure cracked as if something had pierced it repeatedly.

  Without hesitation, Jhonny looked at AI.

  —Fix him.

  AI hovered in the air for a second before responding coldly:

  —Impossible. Structural repair and component restoration can only be performed in an advanced assembly factory.

  Jhonny clenched his teeth, nodding in frustration. Before he could say anything else, Adam grabbed him with his only hand, with desperate strength.

  —I don’t matter. —His broken, fragmented voice vibrated with anguish—. Please, Jhonny… save my family. They were taken from me in front of my eyes and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t protect them…

  Jhonny saw the trembling in his body, the desperation in his clumsy movements. What he had before him was not a machine—not a simple automaton. It was a husband, a devastated father, a man agonizing not from physical damage but from something deeper.

  For a moment, Jhonny saw himself in Adam.

  He took him by the shoulders and looked into his dim eyes.

  —What happened? Where are Helena and the kids?

  Adam, with clumsy movements, pointed with his mangled hand. In the center of the district, rising like a grotesque monolith of organic metal, a dark, pulsing tower stood above everything else. Its structure seemed to writhe, as if it were alive, fed by the corruption of that place.

  —There… they’re there. In Count Burgos’s tower.

  The name sent a chill down Jhonny’s spine.

  —Who is he?

  —A Perfect. —Adam nearly spat the word with rage—. One ruled only by pleasure. They took them so he could use them, to satisfy his need to…

  He stopped, shaking with fury and helplessness.

  Jhonny felt a wave of horror take hold of him. His gaze fixed on the tower, a burning hatred beginning to boil inside him. AI floated silently, but something was failing in its processing core. It didn’t understand why, but an anomalous code within itself generated a feeling similar to anguish and anger.

  —How did it happen? —Jhonny asked, jaw tight.

  Adam lowered his head.

  —It was my fault… —his voice broke—. We had been safe for so long…

  His trembling hand clenched into a fist as he continued.

  —The children were playing outside… they accidentally damaged one of the modules I had installed to keep us hidden. I didn’t realize it until it was too late.

  Jhonny said nothing.

  —Count Burgos’s "Knights" found us.

  Adam’s tone changed, his voice full of revulsion.

  —They’re not like other automatons. They’re not soldiers, not simple killing machines. They’re abominations, each more depraved than the last. They’ve been designed to get closer than anyone to carnal pleasure. Closer to feeling...

  Adam’s damaged circuits sparked as his body shook with rage.

  —They immobilized me. They were… horrible. They touched, tasted, felt. They reveled in Helena’s and the children’s panic. They made me watch as they took them and dragged them into the tower. I couldn’t do anything.

  His mechanical eyes dimmed for a moment, as if emotional pain was corrupting his systems.

  —Jhonny… they’re still alive. But I don’t know for how long.

  Jhonny felt his blood boil. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists.

  —Please… —Adam tried to speak, but before he could finish, Jhonny was already on his feet.

  His gaze was cold, determined.

  —I’m going to save your family from that filth. Don’t worry… —He clenched his fists—. I owe you that moment of peace and nostalgia you gave me. I’ll save them. I swear it.

  Adam could only watch, something like awe in his mechanical eyes. It was surprising how a machine like him could display so much human emotion—so much pain and love intertwined in his words.

  Jhonny was about to say something else when he felt an impact on his chest.

  AI had embedded itself into his tactical vest.

  —Initiating battle protocol.

  Jhonny nodded, but with a raised eyebrow, he said with irony:

  —I thought you’d oppose my decision.

  For a second, there was only silence. Then AI responded with its mechanical, inflectionless tone:

  —Mission: save the family.

  Jhonny smiled half-heartedly.

  Then, Adam stood up with difficulty. His body trembled, his circuits failed, but in his eyes burned an unbreakable conviction.

  —I’m coming too.

  Jhonny frowned.

  —You’re in no condition to fight.

  But Adam looked at him firmly.

  —Don’t worry about me. I can still fight. Besides… —His metallic fingers clenched into a fist—. I’m their father. I’m her husband. I have to protect my family… no matter what.

  Jhonny saw the determination in his gaze—the same he felt every day while pushing forward in this hell.

  There was nothing more to discuss.

  —Then let’s go.

  The crimson city rose before them like a mechanical aberration of lust and depravity. Twisted buildings, covered in organic cables and pipes that oozed a thick, reddish liquid, pulsed as if the very structure were alive. Grotesque automatons, their humanoid forms distorted by their failed attempt to imitate flesh and desire, entangled in impious acts, their bodies fused in a mechanical dance of horror.

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  Jhonny advanced without hesitation, his Variable-Mass Photonic Machete vibrating with violet energy, ready to dismember anything in his path. In his left hand, the X-00 Singularity Revolcan spun, its encapsulated plasma rounds whistling with each turn of the cylinder. Beside him, Adam—though mutilated and one-armed—stood firm, his sole hand gripping an ion pistol salvaged from a dead automaton.

  From his vest, AI processed the environmental data with millimetric precision. —Multiple hostiles detected. Analysis: high-level combatants. Recommended strategy: rapid elimination, preference for vital points.—

  —I know —Jhonny growled, his voice filled with determination. He had no intention of wasting time.

  Count Burgos’s Knights emerged from the purple fog that covered the streets. They were horrid creatures, their black exoskeletons ornamented with inscriptions of an ancient and blasphemous code. Their faces were smiling masks of distorted pleasure, and their bodies were designed for torment and submission. Some had elongated limbs like whips of liquid metal, others had nanofiber-clawed hands capable of tearing flesh with a lethal caress.

  The first Knight lunged at them with inhumanly fluid movements. Jhonny fired without hesitation, the plasma round exploding inside the automaton’s skull, melting its head in a burst of sparks and synthetic fluid. Adam rolled to the ground, dodging an attack and firing point-blank at another enemy, destroying its torso with a blue blast.

  Jhonny spun, unsheathing his Photonic Machete in a deadly arc. The antimatter blade sliced through three Knights at once, disintegrating synthetic flesh and internal circuits in a burst of incandescent particles. The fallen bodies convulsed, emitting one final mechanical moan before shutting down forever.

  The doors of the central tower were guarded by a mechanical colossus, a creature fused with multiple still-living human bodies. Its eyes bulged in a grimace of agony, its mouth frozen in a perpetual scream, silenced by cables inserted into its throat. Its chest pulsed, a cauldron of flesh and metal burning with dark energy.

  — Target identified. High risk, announced the AI as Jhonny prepared for the final assault.

  — I'm going to rip this tower from its damn base! Jhonny roared.

  With a leap powered by his reinforced boots, he landed on the beast and drove his machete into its neck. The antimatter devoured the metal, severing the monster’s head with a sonic snap. Adam kept firing, blasting the creature’s remains as the tower doors opened before them.

  Inside, the nightmare reached its peak.

  The interior of the chamber was a living hell of defiled flesh and endless despair. The walls were lined with human skin sewn with pulsing metal umbilical cords, like a twisted organism breathing in a cadence of inhuman moans. Deformed bodies—men and women of tragic beauty—were suspended in cases of black glass, their faces frozen in expressions of ecstasy and horror. Some still twitched, their bodies forced into obscene gestures by mechanical limbs that manipulated them like puppets of flesh. Others were mere husks, their eyes torn out, their mouths forced into demented smiles, drained of everything but suffering.

  Upon a bed made of polished bones and pulsating synthetic flesh, Count Burgos writhed in his depravity. His body was a blasphemous amalgam of human limbs and biomechanical components, his joints covered in nerve sensors ripped from still-living victims. His face, an incomplete mask of dead skin and wires, shifted between masculine and feminine with an unnatural expression, a perpetual smile of deranged pleasure. His many cybernetic arms, dripping with an oily, putrid-smelling fluid, clutched Helena—Adam’s wife—her body nearly lifeless, covered in open wounds. Chained to the bed, her skin was marked with incisions where feeding and stimulant tubes kept her conscious, forcing her to witness her own torment without being able to move. Her eyes, wide open, were pits of absolute horror, reflecting the hell that consumed her.

  In a cage to the side, the children watched silently, traumatized beyond words. Their hands clung to the bars, but their faces were empty, broken.

  Count Burgos noticed Jhonny and Adam’s presence, his inhuman face forming a twisted smile, a grimace of perverse delight. Jhonny stood frozen, barely able to process the horror before him: Helena, barely conscious, her body ravaged and on the verge of death, forced to endure unspeakable agony. His children—small, fragile—were naked, chained in a rusted metal cage, with vacant eyes too broken to even cry.

  Adam’s world collapsed. His wife—his reason for living—was being destroyed before him. His children, the ones he had sworn to protect, were doomed to a fate worse than death. Something inside him broke, and pure, primal rage consumed him. Without thought or strategy, only the absolute will to destroy the monster before him, Adam charged at the Count with a furious scream.

  The automaton fired his weapon, but the Count barely paid attention. In a movement faster than the human eye could follow, one of his many biomechanical arms extended and struck Adam with the force of lightning. The impact hurled him through the air like a ragdoll, slamming into a wall with a sickening crack.

  — Adam! Jhonny shouted, but there was no response.

  The Count turned slowly, still holding Helena’s body, caressing her with nauseating delight.

  — Ohhh… you must be Jhonny, he murmured with an almost melodic tone, his pupil-less eyes glowing with sick lust. The human Miguel ordered me to kill… ah, I had completely forgotten. I've been so immersed in pleasure I left no room for anything else.

  Jhonny felt his stomach turn as the Count fondled Helena's limp body like she was a disposable toy.

  — But I suppose, as you humans say… I'm glad you're here. The Count licked the air with a synthetic tongue dripping oily fluid. Now I can kill you. And after I finish enjoying these children… I’ll enjoy you too.

  An uncontrollable roar of rage erupted from Jhonny.

  — I'll kill you, you bastard! I'll make you suffer like never before!

  The Count watched him with sick fascination, his mechanical lips twisting into a deranged smile.

  — Why so much fury, Jhonny? Is it because of what I’m doing to this woman? What I’ll do to these children? He leaned toward the cage, licking his lips. Your hateful face excites me… Let’s make this more fun.

  The air turned ice cold as metallic tendrils sprouted from his fingers, slithering toward the children with clear intent.

  A chill ran down Jhonny’s spine. His body reacted before his mind, but not fast enough. The Count’s tendrils shot toward the cage, ready to tear apart the children's fragile bodies.

  But before they could reach them, a figure stood in their way.

  Adam.

  The broken automaton, shattered and barely standing, positioned himself between his children and death.

  The impact was brutal. The tendrils pierced his torso, ripped off his remaining arm, and skewered him from side to side. Sparks crackled through his mutilated body, but Adam didn’t move. He didn’t let a single tendril touch his children.

  The children screamed in anguish, pounding the bars with their tiny fists, their tears falling like rain.

  — Dad! Dad, no!

  Adam, with the little energy he had left, turned his head toward them.

  — Don’t… worry… my children… His voice was a broken whisper, his system failing. Daddy… will always… protect you…

  And then, as if fate itself answered his sacrifice, the AI appeared at his side in humanoid form.

  For the first time, her expressionless face showed something akin to emotion.

  Adam, with a faint smile on his ruined face, whispered:

  — Please… protect them… for me. I beg you.

  The Count watched with disdain.

  — How touching, he said coldly. But pointless.

  With a flick of his wrist, the tendrils retracted and, in an instant, tore Adam to pieces.

  There was no scream. No resistance. Just a shower of sparks and metal fragments, as what remained of Adam fell lifeless to the ground.

  The AI didn’t look away.

  — Order received. Priority target protection activated.

  A change overtook her. Five floating spheres appeared around her, their blue glow turning blood red. Her silhouette began to emit a magnetic discharge that made the metal floor groan. The tower’s sensors went haywire.

  — Combat mode activated. Initiating emergency protocol.

  The air vibrated with uncontrollable energy.

  Count Burgos let out a raspy laugh, a tone blending mockery with perverse pleasure.

  — Ohhh… how fascinating. An incomplete automaton making its own choices. And that worthless scrap I just destroyed… His mechanical lips twisted into a grotesque grin. It was fun to see emotion consume him, how his pathetic attempt at humanity led him to attack me… and protect those children.

  He raised a foot and stomped hard on Adam’s remains, scattering sparks and fluids across the floor.

  — But no matter, he whispered coldly. Now I’ll kill them all.

  With a casual motion, the Count tossed Helena’s nearly lifeless body like worthless trash. She flew through the air, her fragile figure spinning in the darkness before Jhonny stepped forward and caught her in his arms.

  A lash of fury surged through him.

  Helena weighed almost nothing. Her skin was cold, her breath weak. Her dress was torn, her body covered in lacerations and fluids Jhonny didn’t dare identify.

  There was no time for grief.

  Jhonny raised his X-00 Singularity Repeater and fired.

  The plasma round tore through the air like a blue lightning bolt, but the Count, defying physics, tilted his body and dodged effortlessly. Still, the force of the shot made him stagger, though his wicked smile never faded.

  Jhonny stepped in front of the AI, placing Helena’s body in her mechanical arms.

  — Protect them, he ordered, voice firm and full of rage. While I kill this thing.

  The AI nodded, her tone emotionless but her response unshakably determined.

  — Order received. Priority protection active.

  The Count tilted his head, his expression a mix of delight and disinterest.

  — Are you sure you can kill me, human?

  Jhonny clenched his teeth. His fury was a black ocean—deep, endless.

  — I’m going to tear you from this world, you goddamn monster…

  The Count smiled, his laugh resonating unnaturally, as if his voice came from multiple mouths in different dimensions.

  — Then come, human. Dance with me in this hell.

  And as if Hell itself had answered his call, the shadows around him twisted and writhed.

  From the gloom emerged the Count's Knights—biomechanical bodies deformed by a fusion of engineering and cruelty. Human eyes embedded in their helmets swiveled in all directions, watching the suffering with morbid fascination. Some still had lips that whispered incomprehensible pleas—fragments of consciousness trapped in bodies that no longer belonged to them.

  Their weapons were extensions of their corrupted flesh: whips made of reinforced bone marrow and nanofibers, swords that fused with their arms, energy cannons grafted onto chests that throbbed as if they had a life of their own.

  One of them lunged at Jhonny with lightning speed.

  Jhonny drew his Variable-Mass Photonic Machete—the blade shimmered with a violet light, a pure edge of antimatter.

  With a single slash, he cleaved the Knight in two.

  The body split effortlessly, but before hitting the ground, the torso still had the strength to cling to Jhonny with twisted claws. Another Knight fired a biomechanical harpoon directly at his chest.

  Jhonny spun on his heel and fired the X-00 Singularity Revolcanon.

  The projectile hit the center of the beast, disintegrating its structure from the inside out.

  But for every Knight that fell, two more rose from the darkness.

  Count Burgos watched the scene with an ecstatic smile.

  —Yes! Dance for me, human! Show me true ecstasy!

  IA, eyes blazing red, shifted into combat stance. Her silhouette pulsed with electromagnetic energy.

  —Offensive mode activated.

  Five floating spheres rotated around her, discharging disruptive energy pulses.

  The battle had begun—and only one would walk away alive.

  The air trembled with the lethal energy of both combatants.

  Jhonny charged at Count Burgos, his Variable-Mass Photonic Machete glowing with violet light, distorting space around it.

  The Count smiled with his grotesque mouth and extended his biomechanical arms. From his fingers emerged nanocable whips, stretching like hungry serpents. With a crack, the tendrils lashed out at Jhonny with superhuman speed.

  Jhonny barely had time to react.

  He rolled to the side, feeling the whips slash the air where he had just been. One grazed his arm, instantly slicing it open in a deep wound—as if hundreds of microscopic blades had passed through at once.

  Gritting his teeth against the pain, he boosted upward with his gravity-enhanced boots, spinning in the air with his machete raised high.

  The strike came down like divine judgment.

  The blade carved a deadly arc, but at the last moment, the Count disintegrated into a blur of shifting shadows, reconfiguring his body in midair as though unbound by physical form.

  Jhonny’s strike hit the ground, opening a crater of melted debris.

  The Count reappeared behind him and stabbed him with one of his biomechanical blades.

  The weapon pierced through his side and out his back in a gush of blood.

  Jhonny growled in pain, but instead of pulling back, he spun his X-00 Singularity Revolcanon with his left hand and fired point-blank at the monster’s face.

  The plasma blast tore off part of the Count’s jaw, leaving a smoldering void where his manic smile had been.

  The monster staggered back, reeling, but refused to let go.

  Jhonny, still impaled, clutched the Count’s wrist and, with superhuman strength, snapped the arm in two with a sickening crunch.

  The Count roared in fury as his body shifted again—his torso opened like a carnivorous flower, revealing a nest of metal-flesh tentacles, each tipped with vibrating needles and blades.

  Jhonny didn’t have time to react.

  The tentacles wrapped around him and began to crush him.

  The blades pierced his flesh, shredded muscle, and tore apart parts of his armor with each monstrous squeeze. Blood spilled in a grotesque spectacle.

  The Count lifted him into the air, laughing with his corrupted voice.

  —Yes! Yes! Suffer, human! Show me your despair!

  Jhonny spat blood and stared at him with inhuman fury.

  Suddenly, the blade of his Photonic Machete began to vibrate violently, deadly with energy.

  —Die.

  With one final effort, Jhonny twisted his wrist and activated the weapon’s overload mode.

  The antimatter blade surged in a burst of black light.

  He drove the machete into the mass of tentacles, disintegrating them in a single slash.

  The Count screamed.

  Jhonny collapsed to the ground, gasping and drenched in his own blood.

  But he didn’t give his enemy a chance to recover.

  He rose like a reborn demon and, in a flurry of swift strikes, severed one of the Count’s arms. Then another.

  The Count tried to flee, but Jhonny caught him and hacked off a leg.

  The monster crashed to the floor, crawling with his only remaining arm.

  Fear began to cloud his eyes.

  Meanwhile, IA was waging her own massacre.

  The Count’s Knights descended on her like a pack of mechanical beasts, their red eyes glowing with bloodlust.

  IA didn’t move.

  Her five combat spheres spun at extreme speed, generating a vortex of static electricity and electromagnetic pulses.

  The Knights lunged.

  IA simply extended her hand.

  The spheres shot out in all directions, tearing through enemies like intelligent bullets. Each impact shredded synthetic flesh and melted circuitry.

  One Knight charged with a biomechanical spear.

  IA caught the spear with one hand, snapped it like paper, and drove her other hand through its torso.

  The enemies fell one by one.

  In less than a minute, IA stood amid a pile of metallic corpses, her expression utterly unreadable.

  Count Burgos, now limbless, crawled toward IA with the desperation of a dying thing.

  His eyes gleamed with a pathetic plea.

  —Please… I’m also… a machine… Like you… Please, IA… Help me…

  IA looked at him without emotion.

  —Help request received. Analyzing…

  For a moment, it seemed she was considering his plea.

  Then, with absolute coldness, she replied:

  —Denied.

  The Count’s face twisted into pure terror.

  Before he could say another word, Jhonny grabbed him by the neck and dragged him into the shadows.

  The monster tried to resist, but without limbs, he was a helpless worm.

  His whimpers turned into shrieks of panic.

  —No! No, wait! I don’t want to die! I don’t wa—

  Jhonny leaned in close, his expression dark and eyes burning with primal rage.

  He whispered into the Count’s ear:

  —I'm going to show you the ecstasy of pain.

  Count Burgos felt fear.

  True fear.

  And the shadows devoured him.