Squad Sanguis

Chapter 1: Blood Bath

 Cold seeped through Oki Jiga's consciousness like icy tendrils, pulling him back from the depths of unconsciousness. His eyes fluttered open, met with the harsh glare of flickering fluorescent lights. Disoriented, he took in his surroundings—an unfamiliar room with grimy walls, dimly lit by a single, swinging bulb.

The sensation of chill settled in his bones, and as he tried to move, a wave of nausea crashed over him. Oki's gaze fell to the water around him—a tub filled with melting ice. Panic surged as he attempted to sit up, only to be met with a sudden, sharp pain radiating from his right shoulder.

A guttural groan escaped Oki's lips as he struggled to comprehend his predicament. He shifted his gaze to his right side, and horror seized him like a vice. Where his arm should have been, there was nothing but a bloodied stump. The reality hit him like a freight train, and the room seemed to spin.

"What the hell happened?" Oki's thoughts raced, and fear clawed at the edges of his consciousness. He glanced around for clues, noticing a note on a nearby table. The message was scrawled hastily: 'Welcome to the family, Oki. You're one of us now.'

The words mocked him, leaving more questions than answers. A sickening realization dawned—this was the price of survival, a grim initiation into the Moretti family.

Oki's breathing quickened, and he fought back a rising sense of despair. He couldn't afford weakness. With a shaky inhale, he steadied himself and assessed the situation. The pain was a constant reminder, but determination fueled him. He would adapt. He had to.

Dragging his weakened body from the tub, Oki stumbled toward a cracked mirror. The reflection staring back at him bore the marks of desperation he gingerly felt around his bloodied stump, the makeshift bandage crudely applied and soaked through. The pain was excruciating, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, His thoughts swirled with a singular purpose: escape.

The door to the room creaked open, revealing a narrow corridor bathed in the harsh glow of flickering lights. Oki's eyes adjusted to the dimness just in time to see three figures enter. The one in the middle, a stocky man with a shaved head, held a neatly folded set of clothes. The one by the door, a tall and imposing figure with a scar running across his face, observed Oki with cold indifference. The third person, a woman with calculating eyes, stepped forward.

"Get dressed. The heads want to see you," she stated, her voice devoid of any emotion. The words hung in the air, carrying a weight that seemed to press on Oki's chest.

As if on autopilot, Oki reached for the proffered clothes. The fabric felt unfamiliar against his fingertips—clean, as if it hadn't been worn before. He hesitated, glancing at the scar-faced figure by the door. The man's expression remained impassive, but a silent warning lingered in his gaze.

Without uttering a word, Oki began to dress himself, acutely aware of the trio's scrutinizing eyes. The woman, who seemed to exude authority, maintained her focus on him. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the rustle of fabric as Oki struggled to put on the unfamiliar attire.

Once dressed, Oki awaited further instructions. The woman nodded, satisfied, and motioned toward the door. "Follow us. The heads are waiting."

As the trio exited the room, Oki took a moment to collect himself. His missing arm throbbed with phantom pain, The ominous air hung thick around him as he stepped into the corridor, joining the enigmatic figures who now guided his uncertain path.

The scar-faced sentinel led the way, his footsteps echoing in the dimly lit hallway. Oki walked between the woman and the man that was holding the clothes, the trio forming an uneasy procession through the labyrinthine corridors of The Moretti family' clandestine stronghold.