-With one guard crippled, he moved on to the next, elbowing him, punching the next guy in the balls and so on before eventually reaching his uncle who was curled up into a ball.
A fat, ugly, sweaty and bleeding ball that is.
Frederick made quick work of the mosquitoes, saving his uncle who wanted to thank his mystery saviour.
Upon seeing the face of his darling nephew, Theodore crawled back in fear, or at least tried to, when Frederick brought his leg down with full force in what could only be described as cartoon comedy.
*Craaackk*
Theodore's right shin cracked under the force of one stomp, the sound sending shivers down the spines of a few in the group as they watched Frederick's mouth twist into an angry smile.
*Crack*
He stomped again and again and again until what was left of an originally huge leg was nothing more than a bloody paste of meat with powdered bones.
He then moved on to the other leg, leaving it in the same state as the right one as he made his uncle a cripple with no chance of ever walking.
Taking a break from his stomp session, Frederick wheezed small, clutching at his ribs in visible as his eyes roamed a bit.
Finding a knife not too far away, he took it, dangling it before his uncle's snot filled face as he sat down on his huge stomach.
A seamless angle change to a bird's eye view showed Frederick say something to his uncle who began trembling as he started talking a lot, probably pleading for his life. Just as it looked like Frederick was going to have mercy, he responded by stabbing the knife deep into his uncle's left arm, dragging it from the his shoulder, through to his elbow before eventually reaching his palm.
He then sat back, relaxing on his uncle's wobbly stomach as he admired his own work amid screams.
He then stood up, took a few steps back and jumped, reaching so high that his head brushed against the chandelier, before coming down hard.
*Splat*
One foot pierced through Theodore's stomach as the other one exploded his head.
Brain matter, fragments of his skull and knocked out teeth decorated the puddle of blood and also served as proof that the man named Theodore West would never walk the Aurth again.‐
Timothy and the women looked like they were about to throw up, while Alex and Rudy looked just fine.
This wasn't their first time witnessing such brutality.
-Frederick leaned his head back and let out a shout. A joyful one full of all the pain and torment he had suffered as tears streamed down his face, leaving the group with mixed feelings.-
*Pause*
"Everyone pay attention, cause I believe that this is the exact moment when Frederick became a world- ending being." Astra said for a fact.
"Oh. And how do you know that this is the exact moment. How do you know that he didn't become a monster earlier, huh." Megan said as she shivered with every breath.
"That's easy to answer. Based on my analysis of other … monsters, as you call them, their transformations took place the moment they ended a human life." Astra calmly answered.
"Wait. You mean there are more of him out there. More world ending monsters out there." Timothy butted into the minor spat.
"No, the other monsters aren't Category S, not yet anyway. Majority are Category B, with only 2 being Category A. A European billionaire heir, Yevgeny Vasiliev and an English call girl, Yasmine Trill." Answered Astra.
"Hollow. They are not called monsters but rather Hollows, if I'm not mistaken.", Rudy interjected. "When entering the mosquitoes dungeon, the species of participants were listed and there was 1 Hollow, Frederick."
"Ah, then I guess the young master could be considered lucky to be alive."
"What do you mean, Astra." Rudy asked, genuinely perplexed.
"Well if you all continue watching the video, you'll understand." Astra said, and with that she resumed the video.
*Play*
-Frederick who had one eye red suddenly underwent a minute transformation, both eyes reddening.
His stick-like frame bulked up my an unnoticeable margin, retaining his starving look while also gifting him a body with untapped strength.
Frederick went out of his old home, not even looking back at it as if he sought to bury it with his human side.
He then paused a bit, scanning through the chaos like a newborn predator marking his targets.
In five hits, the woman he attacked died.
In four, his next target died.
In three punches, a muscular man died.
Punch after punch, kick after kick, kill after kill, he was become more efficient in his kills.
Like a monster born from the depths whose sole purpose was murder and destruction, he evolved.
Now he was able to take down opponents twice his size in a single hit.
Rarely did he have to hit twice.
Either an uppercut straight to the chin.
Or a high kick to the side of the head.
And with every kill, he made sure to leave a decapitated head, like it was his personal thumbprint or signature move.
His habit of jumpscaring victims in their final moments ensured that each head wore a frightened expression.
An expression that tickled his twisted desires the right way.
But he made sure of one thing in all of his seemingly mindless slaughter.
He made sure not to kill children.
As for a child who looked mature, or late teens.
It was an unlucky day for them to meet him, since the faint morality left on his moral compass couldn't be bothered to crosscheck their age.
It was a matter of guesswork to him.
One that 4 out of 5 times left the target dead.
He soon found himself in front of a gas station.
The big swarm of mosquitoes gathered around it signified that it wasn't devoid of human life.
Swatting away a few that thought of him as an easy target, he put fear into the rest who avoided him like a plague.
He then got to work.
His job.
To satiate a childhood curiosity.-