The Forsaken-Grade Cultivator
Chapter 38: The Unknowable

Chapter 38: The Unknowable

Darkness.

Complete and utter darkness.

That was foremost portrayal of Ying’s current situation.

’W-what the system?!’

Ying stuttered, eyes perplexedly darting left and right. Granted, this space was definitely NOT the interim world.

The level obscurity simply didn’t correlate to that of the provisional space.

At least, there, he could differentiate the heavens from the earth – albeit a dark and empty earth – but here things were different.

There was no heaven, and neither was there an earth. He had no place to call his foothold, and at the same time, he couldn’t quite describe his experience as merely drifting through a dark void...

Could it even be called, a dark ’void’?

Was such an epithet even appropriate?

No, not in the slightest. Such a term could never do justice to the sheer discordance of it all; such a name was far too pedestrian.

Whether it was the utter – almost defiant – lack of light, or the ever-present feeling of despondency this place gave off, it all felt... Wrong. Every fibre of Ying’s being crawled in repulsion.

It was as though... As though, his soul itself was rejecting the reality of this ominous space. The way it was devoid of everything which was required for.... Life, human life at least, felt sinful.

Ying wanted to close his eyes.

He felt like if he stared into this forsaken abyss for too long, he would be driven past the brink of insanity, but he didn’t dare.

Why?

Because well, aside from the obvious reasons, here and there – underneath the depraved sheaths of Evil matter – Ying caught quick glimpses of nightmarish appendages. Coiling, and writhing briefly under the obscure veil before disappearing.

Had the abominable feelers vanished from reality, or just... from his sight? Ying couldn’t tell, and the gods knew he wasn’t ready to fashion a guess. Ying felt disgusted, uneasy, shaken and most importantly, afraid.

The fact remained that he now ’existed’ in the middle of the supposed embodiment of eldritch horrors. In such a state, how he got here, and what he was doing before getting here were the least of his worries.

He fretted, casting his gaze from side to side, from above to below, searching for a clue as pertained to where the fuck he actually was! It was then, that a hand suddenly grasped his shoulder.

The hand was cold... Very cold, unbelievably so! The freezing touch easily ignited all of Ying’s virtual nerve endings, filling him with a sense of ghastly dread.

In that moment, he completely forgot the fact that he was currently logged onto a VR game, and a primordial fear of that which was unknown seeped into his soul...

...Nay.

Merely calling it an ’Unknown’ could never be enough to justify the unholy mystery, conveyed through nothing but a casual shoulder touch. Ying’s fear ran deep, deep into the fundamentality’s of his very being.

’IT’ was not one such existence that could be understood, or better still, IT was not one such being that was even MEANT to be understood. The very thought of said eventuality was accompanied by a tremendously profound sort of wrongness.

Similar to that which surrounded the eerie space.

It was not an ’Unknown’, but The Unknowable.

The mere attempt at comprehending such an impossible apparition felt like a transgression against the universe itself!

Ying, despite not even really ’standing’ on anything, was somehow rooted in place.

The unknowable’s grasp was cold and grisly. And as though he had become a sort of cryokinetic conductor, Ying froze in place. His hair stood on end and he didn’t dare to turn around. It was then, that the strange personality spoke.

Ying’s eyes widened.

The voice was familiar, very familiar, disturbingly so...But, that couldn’t be possible...Could it? No way, it doesn’t make any sense!

It simply CAN’T be!

"...Let ME handle this one okay, Vincent."

IT spoke, and before Ying could even manage any sort of reaction, his vision went dark. Somehow, he’d passed out... leaving such a dreadful creature free to take the rains.

The consequences of such action were no doubt going to be drastic. Yet, despite this, a single never-changing voice chimed through the eternal darkness. It said...

[You have Awakened your ’Talent’!]

.

.

.

Dizziness.

"Ugh... What happened...?"

Ying stirred, opening his eyes, whilst the darkness gave way to the dim light of the underground bunker. He sat up, and reflexively rubbed his head – an attempt to soothe the throbbing migraine.

His eyes, like every other square inch of his body, felt sore for some reason. Thus making him unable to open them up properly, his nose also trembled and sniffed as an unusual stench tickled them.

"Where the hell am I – Oh... oh shit!" Ying hollered as he suddenly recalled the nature of his situation.

In a panic, he attempted to jump to his feet as well as backwards all at the same time. Of course, his body betrayed him, and he ended up hurtling to the stone floor and landing in a most embarrassing way.

His face turned beet red as he expected some sort of comment on his awkward display of a lack of dexterity, but none ever came.

Ying grew confused.

He shot up and rubbed his eyes properly, finally managing to snap himself out of his drowsiness, and then he turned around...

Ying muttered, "D-d-dear God..." with eyes widened and jaws hitting the concrete. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the sight which he was currently beholding.

"What the hell... Happened here..." Ying stifled a comment as he took in more and more fine details....

Strewn all around him, covering the vast majority of the previously monolithic room was nothing other than a macabre canvass of distraught and human viscera. Yes, the previously solemn room had grown even more morbid, with its new interior décor – a horrifying mosaic of fresh human guts.

What’s more, it felt like a purposeful design...

As though some sort of deeply disturbed psychopath had come by with a whirlwind of destruction, and reduced its enemy... no, victim, to a bloody mess of their own innards.

It was disgusting, to say the least.

Once again, he had to internally salute the game developers for such a realistic experience. Ying struggled to keep his dinner intact, retching several times, when he finally came to, he glanced at the grotesque scene once again...

He vomited again.

"Blergh!"

"Ugh... wait a minute, isn’t that... No way, it can’t be. I don’t believe it goddamit!" Ying shook visibly as his eyes narrowed, causing him to recognize the face, or more appropriately, what was left of the victims face.

Of course, it was Qing Lo, the head steward of this mansion.

His head lay there, about 30 percent of it seemingly blown to smithereens, and his only remaining eye wide open in unfettered horror.

"But... How?"

Yes, how indeed.

To think that there was actually someTHING capable of decimating the skilful steward to this extent. But as shocking as it was, the truth lay, clear as day, before his eyes in an unsightly splatter of organs and blood. It was truly horrific.

It was then, that Ying realized something.

’Hold on... The killer... They might still be in this room!’ Ying instantly panicked, his eyes darting left and right.