"Get away! Get away! Get away–!!!"
Picking up whatever he could find–lint, framed pictures, or even piles of paper from the hallway stands, he threw all he could at the hovering evil spirit, but none of it did anything to halt it in its tracks.
He eventually managed to pick himself up to his feet, using a pile of papers thrown to obscure the spirit's vision, scrambling over like a newborn calf that was just learning to walk as he rushed towards one of the rooms.
Jiggling the doorknob, it didn't budge, even as he pulled and hit the door.
"No, no, no! Open–!" He yelled desperately.
He moved down the hall, trying the next door, which to his delight, opened without a problem as he rushed in and shut it, gathering his last breath frantically as he stood against the door for a moment to catch his breath.
What do I do…?! Nobody told me poltergeists were a thing in Armageddon–!! He thought.
With little options coming to mind, and a head-on confrontation sitting at the rock bottom of his options, he did what any frantic coward would do:
He crawled under the bed and covered his mouth, hoping for the best.
Even if it's a poltergeist…It should obey the rules of Armageddon, right? I don't think enemies are allowed to have some sixth sense about people! He hoped.
It was a tight fit beneath the bed, forcing him to move his buckled spear from his back holster to his side, holding it close to his body as he laid beneath the bed in silence.
BANG.
A loud slam against the door made him jump, but he stayed quiet, sweating profusely as his eyes stayed wide with fresh fear.
It's not coming in, right? Ghosts don't normally open doors, right?--Wait, how do ghosts work again?! He questioned.
A few more slams against the door sounded out as he grasped his own mouth to make sure not a single squeak left his trembling lips.
Finally, it stopped.
It was that eerie silence once more; a silence that left him unknowing of what was to come or if it was over. Though he didn't dare move to even test if the ghost was indeed gone, instead waiting under the bed.
Alright…I'll wait another hour–no, ten minutes…five? Crap, I really don't want to move from under here, he thought.
After another couple minutes, he finally decided it was time to move away from under the bed. As he looked to the side to grab his trusty, silver spear–it was face-to-face with him; the hair-hidden, ghastly face of the poltergeist.
"GYAAAA–!!!"
He felt as if his soul had evaporated from his body as he screamed out with everything he had, earning a banshee-like scream in return from the evil spirit as he rolled out from beneath the bed, scrambling to his feet in an inelegant struggle.
"Leave me alone! Leave me alone–! I don't taste good! My soul isn't delicious–!" He screamed out, pulling on the door knob, "...Huh?"
It didn't budge.
"Huh?"
He tried again; twisting, pulling, and yanking with all of his might.
But, it wasn't budging in the slightest.
"Huh…?"
It was the worst case scenario from him; he could hear the inhuman murmurs of the poltergeist from behind him as he was unable to open the door.
–
Witnessing this, the poltergeist's presence was not something spurred on naturally, but rather conjured and summoned by one.
Hiding within the vents was the one responsible; a wrinkly, but athletic old man who stroked his lengthy, snow-white beard with a pleasured chuckle as he spectated Sol's horrifying encounter with the evil spirit.
[Hongkee | Level 30]
"Let me hear your more guttural screams, boy," the old man whispered while peeking through the vents.
–
"Open! Open! Open, you useless door! What's the point of a door that won't open, huh?! You should go die–!!! Go be turned into wood chips and be crafted into something more useful!" He screamed while jiggling the doorknob violently.
He could hear it creeping up behind him, moving slowly as the evil spirit hovered closer and closer while he hectically pulled on the door.
Finally, it managed to open up, nearly making him fall back as he ran into the corridor once again.
As he looked behind him, he could see the long-haired poltergeist just a couple meters behind him as he sprinted forward before–SLAM.
Not watching where he was going, he ran directly into the wall while in full sprint–hitting his forehead on a corner, no less.
The old man responsible for summoning the evil spirit couldn't help but giggle at the young man's clumsiness, having to cover his mouth not to give away his position before he snapped his fingers:
"Let me end this before you embarrass yourself further, boy," Hongkee whispered, "Rise, Unholy Butchers."
As Sol sat on his knees, holding his forehead and wincing, dark-purple summoning seals manifested on the ground around him, filling the nearby hall.
"Huh…?"
Glancing to the side, he witnessed new entities emerge from the darkness; a small figure no higher than his knee, wrapped in blood-stained bandages and wielding two butcher knives. Another figure, though quite the opposite–tall and thin, with a body protruding with many blades, wrapped in the same bandages.
Last but not least, a towering, round figure with gray, rotten skin, wielding a humongous cleaver. These three new figures encircled him, filling the hall with a stomach-churning stench of putrid flesh.
However, what was perplexing to the GOETA System-user spectating from the vents was the fact that the coward-of-a-man wasn't freaking out.
Sol had brought his hand in front of his gaze–blood.
"What the–!?" Hongkee let out from the vents
Before the old man's eyes, watching from the ventilation shaft above, he witnessed the hazel-haired young man pass out right then and there, falling over backward onto the floor.
The old man raised an eyebrow in confusion before beginning to snicker, unable to contain his amusement.
He passed out from utter fear…! So, this is what "Gangcheori" is made out of! Hah! Jun-Seo won't have any issue dismantling this group, then, Hongkee thought.
"Butcher him!" Hongkee commanded the Butcher trio.
The three summoned entities of varying statures and physiques began to move towards the unconscious, snoring adolescent with malicious intent. Stomping down with each step, the large, blubbery one that wielded the oversized cleaver approached foremost.
But, the snoring stopped just as quickly as it began.
Once more, his eyes opened–this time, their amber shade had shifted to a refined scarlet as a calm expression took over.
For some reason, there was a unique pressure that exuded from the young man that was laid on the ground as he simply looked up with those scarlet eyes.
"What…?" Hongkee let out., "Attack him! Cut him apart! What're you waiting for?!"
As the fat butcher reared its massive, human-sized cleaver back, bringing it down in a violent chop–the young man disappeared from view.
Once the cleaver had slammed into the ground, missing its target, the summoned entities and the summoner alike were left perplexed.
"You're loud."
–He reemerged from behind the cleaver-wielding giant, thrusting his spear through its body with a powerful blow before any of the assailants could react.
The movements made were faster than their eyes could react, and surpassed sound as the air whipped out only moments after he reappeared–having silently moved beyond their perception.
Before the other two butchers could react, the blood that spilled from the gaping wound in the cleaver-wielding giant swirled around, gathering around his body into a hardened armor forged of the crimson fluid.
[Blood Forger System: Awakened.]
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