NOVEL SIMPLE 0063-64: Time is Running Out
━━━━━━━━━━┓༻( ∞ )༺┏━━━━━━━━━━
Chapter 63 - 64: Time is Running Out
━━━━━━━━┛༻( ∞ )༺┗━━━━━━━━
An ancient lament echoed through the desolate expanse, carrying a thick sense of sorrow and silence.
In this eerie place, it felt as though time itself had halted. Only the whisper of the wind spoke of the passage of ages and the ever-changing world.
Zoe Carter, now a tall and composed woman, slowly walked through the dense forest, following the scent and footprints left behind.
The soft layer of decaying leaves sank beneath her boots with each heavy step, much like treading through thick mud. The decomposing foliage crumbled under the pressure, emitting a faint rustling sound.
Sensing the increasing moisture in the air, Zoe instinctively looked up at the sky.
It seemed that rain was imminent. The sky above were cloaked in a gloomy, leaden grey, casting a heavy shadow over the entire mountain forest.
Though it was barely past nine in the morning, the clouds were unnaturally thick, as if burdened by an endless weight of melancholy and contemplation.
The distant mountain ranges were blurred and indistinct, evoking a sense of vastness and loneliness.
A perfect place for killing. A perfect weather for it too.
Zoe’s expression remained placid as she continued to walk. Her thoughts were devoid of any emotional disturbance regarding the ants she was about to crush.
When she discovered that these people intended to burn her alive, she had already abandoned the notion of reporting them to the authorities. Prison wasn’t where they belonged.
There was a far better place suited for them.
...
Before long, Zoe halted her steps.
Ahead, standing in the forest, was a man with a buzz cut, mid-relief. Their eyes met, just as they had when they first encountered each other.
If the bear from earlier were present and capable of speech, it would undoubtedly say, I’ve seen this before!
For a moment, the air was heavy with silence, even the desolate wind seemed to quieten. The soft trickle of water abruptly ceased.
In the next instant, the buzz cut man’s face drained of all colour. The moment he noticed Zoe, the flow stopped, his organ terrified into an immediate retreat, zip yet undone.
Disbelief swept over him, followed by sheer terror that was almost palpable. His pupils dilated, his gaze brimming with shock and dread.
The pounding of his heart echoed loudly in Zoe’s ears.
She slowly advanced towards the buzz cut man, observing his exaggerated display. She didn’t need to use emotional perception to grasp the man’s fear.
The man’s lips trembled, parted ever so slightly, as if he wished to scream but no sound emerged.
Perhaps he wanted to speak, but the terror gripping him rendered him mute as Zoe drew nearer, step by step.
It wasn’t until Zoe was directly before him that he finally managed to stammer out:
“You—you’re not dea—”
Before he could finish, Zoe had already reached him, flicking a finger towards his forehead with a casual gesture.
The man froze, bewildered, attempting to speak further when suddenly, darkness engulfed his vision.
Zoe didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence.
The sharp crack of breaking bone reverberated through the still air.
The speed and force were so swift that the man’s body remained in place, yet his head was violently snapped backwards by the sheer power of the blow.
In an instant, his neck was shattered, utterly crushed.
However, his head didn’t fly off, nor did it explode. A thin layer of flesh still connected his head to his body, leaving it to dangle limply.
The man’s body swayed briefly before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
Zoe didn’t spare the fallen corpse a glance, nor did she pay attention to the sound it made as it hit the earth. She simply carried on, unperturbed.
She didn’t care why these people wanted her dead. Nor did she have any interest in their explanations or pleas.
Letting them die was enough.
Efficiency was key—no wasted words, no patience for the buzz cut man to utter another syllable.
Without looking back at the lifeless body of her victim, Zoe continued forward with a steady, unwavering pace.
Killing, for the first time, stirred no inner turmoil within her.
In truth, Zoe felt remarkably composed.
The sensation of snuffing out the buzz cut man’s life was no different to squashing an insect—both actions left her indifferent. It was difficult to discern which bothered her more, though neither act left her feeling remotely uneasy.
There was no guilt, no hesitation.
Not once did Zoe’s steps falter as she killed the man. It was as if she had merely brushed aside air, provoking no reaction at all. Her expression calm, she followed the scent and continued onward.
After passing through another small patch of forest, a smooth rockface came into view. Embedded in the rock was a large nitrate mine.
This mountain range housed numerous nitrate deposits and old, primitive mines left behind by ancient people.
Clearly, this was where the cult had relocated after the fire.
Or perhaps, it had always been one of their hideouts. Judging by the strong human scent and the various traces left behind, this place had likely been in use for quite some time.
As these thoughts passed through her mind, Zoe didn’t slow down. Without hesitation, she walked toward the largest of the caves.
Before she even stepped inside, she could hear the faint sound of chanting prayers.
As the eerie mumblings grew louder, Zoe approached the cave entrance.
Inside, apart from the two followers who had perished in the fire and the buzz cut man Zoe had just dispatched, the remaining twelve were gathered here.
Dim candlelight flickered, casting long, distorted shadows of a bearded zealot and a regal woman beside him.
The scene, combined with the howling wind outside, the darkening skies, and the oppressive atmosphere that always accompanied the onset of rain, gave the place a distinctly demonic feel.
Ten of the cultists stared intently at the bearded man, listening to his drivel about ascending souls and eternal bliss in the afterlife.
Only the regal woman noticed Zoe’s sudden appearance at the entrance.
Her expression shifted dramatically in an instant.
The mask of calm she had worn so well shattered, and her face was now a canvas of shock and disbelief.
Others followed her gaze, turning towards Zoe at the cave’s threshold.
Amusingly enough, while the bearded zealot and the woman were gripped by fear and astonishment, the ten cultists maintained their serene, impassive expressions.
With ease, Zoe strolled up to the nearest one, a rather large man, and casually lifted him by the neck.
From the footprints at the cabin, Zoe was certain it was this man who had laid the firewood.
Whether he did it of his own volition or was coerced into it didn’t matter.
Zoe simply hoisted him up without hesitation.
Feeling the fervent devotion and unyielding fanaticism from the man, Zoe couldn’t help but shake her head. The whole thing was pitiable, laughable, and utterly pathetic.
Yet her hand showed no mercy.
With a single, swift motion, she snapped the man’s neck.
She tossed the corpse aside with little thought.
The body hit the ground with a thud.
The ten cultists remained unshaken, while the two leaders jumped with fear.
Zoe found it all rather amusing.
Glancing at the two cult leaders and the brainwashed followers, she calmly pulled out her phone to check the time before speaking in a measured tone:
“You’ve got thirty seconds. Say your final words.”
To this, the ten cultists merely stared blankly at her, without any response.
The bearded man and the regal woman exchanged a silent glance, saying nothing in reply either.
Zoe wasn’t in any rush. She simply counted down the seconds in her head.
If she said thirty seconds, they would have thirty seconds.
As the seconds ticked by, Zoe finally spoke once more, her voice calm and laced with an unsettling smile:
“Time is running out…”