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In a dark room, only a single candle flickered feebly, illuminating a scene that shouldn't have existed. A hand stretched out from the middle of the coffin, as if beckoning to me or telling some silent secrets.
At that moment, I woke up with a start, drenched in cold sweat. It was just a nightmare – I told myself. But Peter's voice rang in my ear, "Dad, it's okay. It's just a nightmare." He sounded so certain, as if reminding me that the fear in the dream wasn't unfounded.
"Yeah, honey, it's just a nightmare," I said with a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside me with that smile.
However, was it really just a nightmare? Or was it some kind of omen lurking in my heart? An inescapable fate, stirring in the darkness, waiting to descend upon my life.
"Are you okay?" Peter's voice rang out again, interrupting my thoughts.
"Fine, honey," I sat up and stretched, trying to look normal. "Did you sleep well last night?"
"Better than usual," Peter's reply was filled with a calmness that I couldn't understand, as if he knew something while I was kept in the dark.
But what did all this mean? How much more...
He appeared so suddenly, without any warning, without any sound. That figure emerged from the darkness. Rather than walking into my field of vision, it was more like directly invading my consciousness.
His eyes were as dark as an abyss, making one feel suffocated involuntarily. And the most terrifying thing was that he seemed to be able to see through everything about me, even read my inner world.
The moment he appeared, a thought popped into my mind: Death. This wasn't a title I randomly gave him, but rather he directly extracted it from my heart, as if materializing the deepest fear in my heart. He didn't speak, yet he was already connected with me in spirit. He read my definition of him and accepted this title – Death.
Just like this, this being from the darkness silently invaded my world and became a shadow that I couldn't shake off.
"What do you want, Mr. Death?" I asked. In this world, not many people could face Death directly, but at this moment, I felt his omnipresent pressure.
"Why aren't you afraid anymore?" Death's voice sounded faintly, like a whisper from a corner of my heart.
"I don't need your invitation. My family and I are happy," I replied, with a touch of determination in my tone. Happiness, such an illusory word, was my only support.
"Alright, but we have a common goal," Death sneered, as if not surprised by my answer, but more like a mockery. "You want everyone on Earth to have your power, to evolve humanity, to free the world from evil, right? We know you've done well in achieving this goal on a personal level, but there's more work to be done, and we can help you accomplish it."
Was this a bait? Or a trap? Death's words were like a pythons wrap around my mind, constantly tugging at the weakest string.
"Can you guarantee that you won't harm my wife and son?" I made one last attempt, trying to sway this cold being with this question.
"That's not part of the deal," Death's reply was merciless, like a cold hammer hitting hard on my heart. "We just want you to join us and help us achieve our goals. But to be fair, have you not mention it, I probably wouldn't consider it, but now..."
This sentence was like a knife, stabbing straight into my heart. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice already trembling.
"Your wife and son are going in danger. To save them, you must join us," Death's tone was filled with an undeniable threat, as if all this had been predestined.
"I just want my family to be safe," I said softly. These words contained all my love for my family and were the only weapon I could use to fend off this shadow of death.
"We'll protect your family," Death said, "but you must join us first."
"I won't join any organization," I replied firmly. This wasn't a choice but a belief.
"Even if you could become the most powerful person on Earth?" Death persisted, as if challenging my bottom line.
"I won't join you either," This was my bottom line. No matter what, I wouldn't cross it.
"What if we told you that your family would be safe with us?" Death's words were like a temptation, but I knew it was just another trap.
"They won't be," I replied coldly. "I'll do everything I can to protect my family, even if it means killing you."
Death burst out laughing, his laughter full of mockery and disdain. "Hahaha, alright, Sam Terzo, I accept your challenge."
"What do you mean?" I felt an ominous premonition, like the sharp claws in the darkness, slowly approaching.
"When the time comes, you must choose between your own life and the lives of your family. But remember, if you refuse to join us, we will kill them or make their and your lives a living hell."
"However, you can always read my thoughts and see if I'm lying, can't you?" Death asked.
"Do you mean I have no choice?"
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Death laughed, his laughter filled with endless coldness. "It seems so."
Was there really no choice left? Was my fate really decided like this?
"Now, I must leave. I have a lot of work to do," Death said, his tone full of some mysterious implication. "You can try to resist, but I believe you'll make the right decision."
"Good luck, Sam Terzo," Death's voice gradually faded away and finally disappeared into the darkness, leaving me alone to face this endless fear.
"Father," Peter's voice rang out again, pulling me back from that dark abyss. "Will he hurt Mom and Dad?"
"Yes, I think he will," I replied weakly, unable to hide the fear inside.
"I don't want him to come back," Peter's voice was filled with childish determination, like an instinctive resistance.
"Don't worry, little Peter," I managed to force a smile, trying to comfort him. "I'll always protect you from him."
"Promise?" Peter looked at me, his pure eyes full of expectation.
"I promise," I said. This time, it was no longer just a comfort but a vow.
Sam stood at the door, looking intently at the familiar figure in the living room – his wife, Molly. She was sitting on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate in her hand, and the firelight reflected on her face, making her expression seem even softer. Although the scene seemed peaceful, Sam's heart was filled with unease.
"Hi, honey," she said softly, her voice carrying the usual tenderness.
"Hi..." Sam's voice was low, as if he was trying to suppress some emotion.
"How was your night?" Molly asked, with a hint of casual concern in her tone.
"Same as usual," Sam replied, his tone so flat it was almost indifferent. "Nothing new."
"Oh," Molly was silent for a while, and then her voice became more determined. "Honestly, what happened?"
Sam's heart started to race. He knew he couldn't keep hiding it, but at this moment, he still chose to avoid it. "I'm sorry," Molly suddenly broke the silence, her voice trembling a little. "I just had a terrible dream that we were killed."
"Me too," Sam lied, his voice sounding a bit stiff. "I was thinking the same thing."
"Yeah, me too," Molly sighed, as if trying to release the fear from the dream through that sigh. "I hate dreams like that."
"I feel the same," Sam frowned, lost in thought.
Sam's thoughts were like a chaotic ocean, with waves surging wildly. He tried to make sense of it all, but deep down in his heart, he vaguely felt that this was far from a simple dream. The boundary between the dream and reality became blurred, as if he was standing at the junction of nothingness and reality, ready to fall into an endless abyss at any time.
"I'm just so worried," Sam finally spoke, his voice so low that it seemed to come from the bottom of the earth. "I don't want to lose my family."
"I know," Molly's voice was gentle and firm, as if she wanted to soothe the waves in his heart with those few words. "I'm scared too."
"What if we die?" Sam's voice trembled. What he was afraid of wasn't just death, but also that sense of powerlessness, the fear of being unable to control his own fate.
"We won't," Molly replied softly, as if her words had some kind of magic to dispel all the darkness.
Three
Sam couldn't hide it any longer. He knew that this secret was like a time bomb buried in his heart, ready to explode at any time. He took a deep breath and decided to tell Molly the truth.
"He came to see me again," Sam said, his voice as low as the night wind, carrying a certain indescribable despair. "This time he asked me to join his organization and help him with his plot."
"Oh," Molly's voice was filled with surprise and fear. "That's horrible."
"The worst part is that if I don't join him, he threatened to kill us," Sam added, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness.
"I want to kill him with my own hands," Molly gritted her teeth, a flash of anger in her eyes.
"The whole thing is a bit strange," Sam whispered, frowning tightly. "It seems so stupid. If someone wants you dead—"
"—he could have done it many times. Why now? Why in such a weird way?" Molly continued his unfinished sentence, her tone full of confusion.
"Maybe he's not as bad as you think? Is that what you mean?" Molly asked. Her fingers gently slid across the buttons of her shirt, and then she took off her shirt and stood by the fireplace in the room, with one bare arm across her chest.
Sam nodded but didn't say anything. He knew that the answer to this question was far more complicated than they thought.
"Anyway, what did he say when you refused him?" Molly asked, her eyes full of expectation and anxiety.
"He said he would come back to pick me up after dark," Molly shrugged, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness. "But I don't believe it. It's as if he thinks we're used to handing over our bodies to anyone who asks."
"Yeah," Sam agreed, but his heart was filled with indescribable fear. Death's face – that face made Sam extremely uneasy. It wasn't an ordinary fear, but a despair heavier than death, as if some being worse than him was approaching them.
"You know," Sam suddenly spoke, with a certain determination in his tone, "we must get ourselves out of here."
Molly was silent for a while, and then she said softly, "I'll stay put. Maybe he'll leave."
"Not likely," Sam shook his head. "And we can't leave Peter here."
"Yes," Molly sighed, a hint of worry flashing in her eyes. "But – why do you think he wants to see us?"
Sam was silent for a moment, and then he whispered, "I don't know. Maybe because he knows we're here. Maybe—"
"—maybe he's crazy," Molly suggested, her tone carrying a hint of mockery.
"I wish I knew how they found us," Sam said, his tone filled with deep confusion and helplessness. "We didn't tell anyone. Even if we did, it's unlikely they could find us here, but we must have left some clues somewhere."
"Anyway, who would come looking for us?" Molly asked, her tone full of confusion. "Even if someone found us, what could they do? You know the law."
"Do you mean we can only wait until nightfall and hope this person doesn't come back?" Sam asked, his tone full of unease.
"Probably," Molly's voice was so low that it was almost inaudible.
They both lay on the floor by the fire. The warmth of the flames wrapped around them, as if at this moment, the darkness of the world couldn't touch them. The weather was hot and comfortable, and such warmth made one want to fall into a deep sleep. After a while, they really fell asleep. The last sound Molly heard from Sam was a soft whisper in the dream.
However, when she woke up later, she found that it was already dusk outside, the fire had gone out, and the room had become cold. She made herself a cup of tea and ate some bread and cheese they had brought, trying to dispel the unease in her heart with these ordinary actions.
But then, she found an envelope on the table. What was inside shocked her speechless. There were photos of Sam and Molly's criminal history in the past, and even photos of their recent attack on Alan. Then there was a note that said if Sam didn't join the organization, they would be arrested, tried, and imprisoned, and there would be no mercy.
All this, the unexplainable fear, was like an invisible net, tightly缠绕着 them. Molly's fingers trembled, and she could hardly hold the note steady. Her mind was filled with all kinds of possibilities, but no matter what, she couldn't understand why such a thing would appear here.
"This is crazy!" Molly finally couldn't help shouting. "How on earth did he get these things? Could it be that they've been..."
"Maybe this is what Death meant," Sam whispered, his eyes full of endless shadows. "Maybe we should follow his advice."
They packed their things and drove back to the city. Peter was silent in the back seat, his eyes full of fear and pain. That night, what they experienced wasn't an ordinary nightmare, but a waking nightmare, a torture more terrifying than death.
Seven
Molly began to wonder if she should forget the whole thing. Maybe it was just the result of a series of coincidences or illusions. After all, they had always been careful to keep their whereabouts a secret. Didn't they check everywhere before leaving the apartment? Didn't they carefully lock the door? How could they have been followed without leaving a trace?
"I don't know," Sam said, his tone full of helplessness and exhaustion. "But we have no choice."
"Yes," Molly replied softly, a hint of despair flashing in her eyes. "All we can do is continue to pretend that we don't know what's going on."
"I don't think that's enough," Sam's voice suddenly became firm. "Death wants more from us than that."
"But how can we?" Molly's voice trembled. She wasn't sure if she had the courage to face all this.
Sam raised his head, a firm light shining in his eyes. "Obviously, we must fight back. We can't let ourselves be defeated."
"How?" Molly's voice was full of confusion and unease.
"I'm not sure," Sam whispered, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes. "But we'll figure it out. We'll defeat Death. I promise you."
"Oh, Sam, I hope you're right," Molly said softly. She knew that this might be their only hope.
Eight
"How brave and foolish... This will be an interesting night!" Death watched from a distance, a strange light shining in his eyes. He had seen many terrifying things, but nothing like this. They were completely different from the two humans who had come to him just now. No matter what they did, it all made him feel intrigued.
Suddenly, another figure walked through the darkness. It was Skullet Tre, a being dressed in black and wearing a strange white mask.
"Well," Death whispered, "what do you want?"
"Nothing," Skullet Tre replied, his voice carrying a cold air. "Just need to talk to these people."
"Why?"
"Because I need to know what they're thinking."
"So you can torture them?"
"Maybe not directly torture them!" Skullet Tre replied, his tone carrying a strange sense of pleasure. "But I need to know what they're thinking."
Death was silent for a while, and then said coldly, "It's impossible. They're not normal people. Even if they're not crazy, you won't be able to understand their motives."
"But that's the point," Skullet Tre said, his tone full of a strange kind of pleasure. "These two are not just human. They're something else. Really strange. I don't know what it is, but I know that whatever it is, they can't be human. But they fascinate me and make me feel sympathetic. Maybe we can use it as a job invitation."
"Are you going to give them to us?" Death's voice carried a hint of mockery.
"No," Skullet Tre replied, his voice carrying some inexplicable obsession. "I want to put them in my museum."
"What museum?"
"Of course, the museum of dead things."
"Dead things?"
"Yes. Dead things. Dead things. You know, like animals."
"What's the difference?"
"It gave me an idea."
"An interesting one?"
"In a way. Of course, it's a long shot. But it's worth a try."
A joking nervous light flashed in Death's eyes. "You know what, I think I've thought of a good idea!" He whispered. "We'll call the authorities and have them arrested."
"Don't bother," Skullet Tre said coldly. "They won't be around after tonight."
"Why not?"
"Because I'll persuade them."
"You?"
"Yes. I'll show them what happens to those who try to escape death. Tonight they will experience the true meaning of death."
"How will you do it?"
"Destroy them with their own darkness."
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