740 Uninvited Owner (2)
The front door creaked open, revealing the silhouette of a man swaying on the threshold. The light from the hallway seeped into the apartment, casting an eerie glow around him.
His name was Terrence, Erik's unsuspecting target.
Terrence was a man of considerable stature, standing well over six feet tall.
His broad shoulders strained against the fabric of his expensive suit, a testament to the life he lived as a mercenary, and of the stuff he did to get money.
His hair was a disarray of dark curls, slightly matted with sweat and sticking out in odd directions.
His face, usually handsome with sharp features and a strong jawline, was now flushed and slack with intoxication.
A pair of bleary, bloodshot eyes squinted into the apartment, trying to make sense of the flickering light from the television.
A look of confusion crossed his face as he stumbled further into the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
"Did I leave the damn TV on?" His words slurred. He was likely came from a bar or a tavern, and he obviously drank alcohol. He stood for a moment, swaying as he tried to remember.
Terrence had a peculiar quirk when he was drunk. He talked to himself, carrying on one-sided conversations as if there were someone else in the room.
It was a habit that had always amused the few friends he had but had often left him feeling embarrassed the morning after.
"Damn it, Terrence." He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "You need to stop forgetting things."
He made his way toward the television, his steps unsteady and uneven.
He stumbled once or twice, catching himself against the wall before continuing on his path. His hands fumbled for the remote, missing it a few times before finally turning off the TV.
The sudden silence in the room seemed to startle him. He blinked, looking around in confusion before shaking his head again.
"Must've been one hell of a party." A self-deprecating chuckle escaping his lips.
Unaware of Erik and June's presence in the room, Terrence continued toward his bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothing behind him.
His drunken state made him oblivious to the danger lurking in his own home - a danger that was watching him with cold, calculating eyes.
Erik and June exchanged a glance, their expressions grim. This was their target - a man who seemed more pitiful than threatening in his current state.
But they knew better than to underestimate him. After all, appearances could be deceiving.
<What are we going to do, Master? > June's telepathic voice echoed in Erik's mind, a note of concern clear in his tone. <He's in no state to defend himself. >
Erik could feel the conflict in June's thoughts, a mirror of his own feelings. To kill an unarmed man, especially one as incapacitated as Terrence, went against their ingrained sense of fairness.
<Our lives come first, June. We didn't choose this path. Life forced it upon us. >
There was a pause as June contemplated Erik's words. His master could feel the turmoil in his clone's thoughts, the struggle between their shared sense of morality and the need to get more power.
<You're right, > June said, his mental voice subdued. <But I don't really like it… >
Erik shared his sentiment, but they both knew there was no other choice.
The young man stepped out from under the veil of invisibility, the shimmering distortion fading away to reveal his form. His flyssa was sheathed at his side, its hilt gleaming in the dim light.
The sound of his footsteps on the floor echoed in the silent apartment, drawing Terrence's attention. The man turned around, his bleary eyes widening in surprise as he took in Erik's appearance.
"What the...?" Terrence's slurred words hung in the air, a question left unanswered as Erik moved with lethal precision.
In a single, swift movement that seemed to blend with the surrounding shadows, Erik unsheathed his flyssa.
The sword glinted under the dim lighting of the apartment, its curved blade reflecting the scant light in a chilling dance of death.
To close the distance between them was a matter of mere moments for Erik.
His movements were fluid and precise, like a predator closing in on its prey.
Terrence, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of his assailant, barely had time to register what was happening.
There was no time for Terrence to react, no opportunity for him to mount a defense.
Frozen in fear, he watched as Erik's blade closed in on him, his impending doom becoming more real.
Erik's blade found its mark with unerring accuracy. The sharp metal cut through fabric and flesh with equal ease.
Terrence's words turned into a strangled gasp, a sound that was abruptly cut off as his life was extinguished.
[HUMAN KILLED: MANA ABSORBING PROCESS STARTING.]
[0%...1%....5%...30%...70%...100%]
[MANA SUCCESSFULLY ABSORBED, STARTING CONVERTING PROCEDURE.]
[3...2...1...0]
[MANA SUCCESSFULLY CONVERTED INTO EXPERIENCE 968 EXPERIENCE POINTS AWARDED TO THE HOST.]
The deed was done. Erik stood over Terrence's lifeless body, his expression unreadable.
Erik's gaze swept over the lifeless form strewn haphazardly on the polished hardwood floor, his eyes devoid of any discernible emotion.
Terrence was now reduced to nothing more than a lifeless husk.
His once lively eyes, typically filled with a boisterous energy, were now vacant and dull.
His features, usually stressed by a confident smirk or a playful wink, were now distorted by the grim finality of death.
His strong jawline was slack, and his full lips were tinged with an unnatural blue hue. The curls that usually framed his face were matted with blood and stuck to his forehead, adding to the macabre sight before Erik.
His clothes were now marred by a spreading crimson stain. Erik's gaze lingered on Terrence's form for a moment longer before he turned away.
<He wasn't an innocent, > Erik's telepathic voice echoed in June's mind, his tone devoid of emotion. <He killed many outside the city just for greed. This man deserved his fate. >
June didn't respond, but Erik could feel his agreement. They both knew that Terrence's actions had warranted this fate.
<What do we do now? > June asked.
<Put him in the bathtub, > he said. <We need to clean up and leave no trace behind. >
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