The redhead endless sufferings

chapter 3:dance of the corpses

Chapter 3: Dance of the Corpses

The tension in the air was thick as the scene shifted in Cale's nightmare. The melody started-low, unsettling, and chilling as it reverberated through the room. It was haunting, its rhythm pulling everyone in despite the unease. The characters stood silent, their gazes fixed on the unfolding vision.

[Dance of the Corpses]
["Let's follow the lead of the corpses and dance,
The dance of corpses,
Let's follow the lead of the corpses and dance..."]

Cale's body stiffened, the words sinking deep into his chest as the twisted waltz of the dead began to take shape. His eyes flickered shut for a moment, but the images of rotting bodies and shattered souls danced before him-his guilt rising again, clenching around his heart like a vice.

The dead moved in the shadows, their figures contorted and grotesque, as if their bones were bent beyond repair. Cale felt them-felt their cold hands pulling him closer.

[Something which has become possessed has become
An unwilling traveler on the path to the underworld...]

He was suffocating in his own guilt. Their faces, the faces of his fallen comrades, twisted and morphed into horrifying masks. Their voices were the wind in his ears, a chorus of whispers that wouldn't stop, that wouldn't leave him alone.

[Hatred and malice will gladly share
In this joyful journey]

Ron frowned, stepping forward cautiously. His brow furrowed as the room filled with an unnatural chill. He wasn't sure how to break through the nightmare, but he could see it-Cale's torment was laid bare for all to witness.

Beacrox stood still, his expression unreadable. He, too, could sense the darkness, but his focus was entirely on Cale. He could feel the weight of the situation, the oppressive guilt pressing down on his friend.

[This dance of corpses will empty your head of thoughts, pa-para-para~]

Choi Han clenched his fists. The whispers had reached his ears too. He could feel the weight of Cale's torment, as though the pain had become tangible-something that wrapped itself around his body and threatened to crush him.

[An invitation for you who wish to die
To part from that sad, fleeting world
Here is a sweet, sweet paradise, come here?]

Cale's eyes were wide, his breathing erratic. He was trapped in the cycle of death, the cycle of his own survival, and his mind was no longer his own. The images swirled, the dance of death beckoning him to join them, to give in to the despair.

Alberu's voice cut through the tense silence, his tone not one of command, but of deep concern. "Cale, don't let them pull you in."

But it was too late.

[The dance of corpses, the dance of corpses
For living on is an exercise in suffering
Following this joyful march, that rotten
Sausage is crammed into the hole in that heart]

Cale's mind was unraveling. The guilt, the suffocating need to blame himself-it was all-consuming. He could hear them. His team. His friends. The voices accusing him, condemning him for surviving, for not being able to save them. The thought of their dying faces tore at him.

[The happy and fun march of corpses
Your place is here among us as well
A crowd of evil spirits join the fray as well, come, let's dance in the graveyard, let's dance in the graveyard, let's dance in the graveyard, cha-cha-oo!]

He felt himself slipping, as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, the abyss below calling him, promising peace. The happiness of death seemed to mock him as the song played louder.

"Cale-nim..." Lock's voice was shaky. He wasn't sure what to do either, but he could see Cale was fading, his mind lost to the darkness. He had to do something.

[The dance of corpses, the dance of corpses]

It was no longer just a song. It was a part of him now, a twisted memory, and it wanted him. The dead reached for him. The whispers called for him to join them, to dance.

[This happy and fun march of corpses
I'll kindly make you one of us as well
A crowd of evil spirits join the fray as well, come, let's dance in the graveyard
Let's dance in the graveyard, let's dance in the graveyard]

Alberu took a step forward, his hand reaching out toward Cale. "Cale!" he shouted, desperate. "You don't have to go. Fight this."

But Cale was beyond hearing him. His eyes were vacant, lost in the sea of guilt. The vision blurred around him, the dance of corpses swirling ever closer.

[I'll kindly make you one of us as well
A crowd of evil spirits join the fray as well, come let's dance in the graveyard, cha-cha-oo!]

The words echoed around the room, each note a mocking promise of peace. But peace was the last thing Cale would find here. The dance of the dead was a trap, and he was caught in its rhythm.

[The dance of corpses
As for the way to dance, as for the way to dance
As for the way to dance along to the march of corpses...]

Ron clenched his fists, but no one moved. They were all trapped in the pull of Cale's nightmare, unable to reach him, unable to pull him back.

[Just showing that deathly form from time to time, just that alone]

The room seemed to warp as Cale's mind twisted further into the depths of guilt. His breath became shallow, his hands trembling. The dance had him now.

[Delivering capital punishment to that hated self, round and round, setting free those thoughts
To start off, take a step, and another, and another, that's the way! Won't you come along?]

It was an invitation he couldn't resist. The dead beckoned him to join them, to stop the pain. It was too much. Everything was too much.

[The dance of corpses, the dance of corpses
Running off to the underworld is its own comfort, ain't it? round and round, setting free those thoughts
To start off, take a step, and another, and another, that's the way! Won't you come along?]

The words were like a spell, pulling him under, sinking him deeper into the pit of despair.

[The dance of corpses, the dance of corpses
Running off to the underworld is its own comfort, ain't it? round and round, setting free those thoughts
To start off, take a step, and another, and another, that's the way! Won't you come along?]

Alberu reached him, gripping his arm, but Cale didn't respond. His eyes were locked on the corpses, his soul dragged to the very edge of oblivion.

[The dance of corpses, the dance of corpses
Running off to the underworld is its own comfort, ain't it?]

The last note of the song hung in the air, a suffocating silence following. Cale's body trembled, his mind lost in the dance of death, but in the darkness, there was still a sliver of hope. A call to return, to fight, to remember that he wasn't alone.