The Entity Chosen.

Chapter 13

As the Entity tightened its hold over Liriyal, her body began to transform, twisting and shifting to reflect the darkness consuming her. Her hair darkened, the strands bleeding into a deep, raven black that shimmered ominously in the low light of the fog. Her eyes, once filled with warmth and familiarity, turned a piercing blood-red, radiating a sinister glow that cut through the mist like twin embers. Strange markings began to creep across her chest and arms, swirling patterns in a deep, inky black, their shapes twisting and shifting as though alive, pulsing in time with the Entity's control.

The markings slithered along her skin, curling around her collarbones, down her shoulders, and spiraling around her forearms, creating an intricate, otherworldly pattern that pulsed and writhed, as if the Entity's presence was branding her body, claiming every inch of her as its own. Her clothes morphed, twisting and fading into a black sports bra and fitted leggings that clung to her form, her entire appearance darkened, dangerous. She looked like a shadow given flesh, a weapon the Entity had forged from her very essence.

The Entity experimented with its new vessel, opening and closing her hands, flexing her fingers as if adjusting to her form, a chilling smile curling her lips. The transformation complete, Liriyal stood tall and still, her blood-red gaze fixed and unfeeling, her movements eerily fluid yet unnaturally controlled. She was no longer the Liriyal her friends had known; she was the Entity's puppet, a harbinger of terror and despair.

From the survivors' perspective, terror had taken on a new, all-too-familiar face. They watched from a distance, hidden in the mist and shadows, barely able to comprehend the twisted figure stalking toward them. Dwight crouched behind a crumbling wall, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His heart raced, cold dread settling into his bones as he peered around the corner and caught sight of the transformed Liriyal, her blood-red eyes scanning the landscape with a predatory focus.

"Oh, God..." he whispered, his voice trembling. "That... that isn't her anymore."

Beside him, Claudette's hands trembled, her face pale as she tried to process what she was seeing. "We have to keep moving," she murmured, barely able to tear her gaze away. "If we don't, she'll— it will find us."

Meg and Feng darted between obstacles in the distance, ducking beneath piles of debris and slipping through the thick fog, trying to maintain their distance from the new predator. Meg's heart pounded as she looked over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of Liriyal moving with an unnaturally smooth grace, her expression devoid of any humanity, her blood-red eyes glinting with cruel purpose.

Feng hissed under her breath, her voice barely audible as they crouched behind an old, splintered barrel. "This is different... she's... she's like one of them now. It's like the Entity is... using her."

Meg clenched her fists, her jaw tight. "We can't think like that. If we give in to fear, we're already dead. We just need to stay quiet, keep moving, and—"

A sudden rustle interrupted her words, and they both froze, every nerve on edge. Slowly, they peered around the edge of the barrel, and their blood ran cold. Liriyal's figure stood only a few yards away, her gaze fixed directly in their direction, as though she could sense their very heartbeats. Her hands flexed, and a twisted smile spread across her face, an expression that was both foreign and disturbingly familiar.

"Run!" Meg whispered urgently, grabbing Feng's arm as they bolted from their hiding place, their footsteps pounding against the earth as they tore through the fog, desperate to escape.

Liriyal's movements were fluid and unnervingly fast, her body responding to the Entity's control with unnatural precision. She advanced toward them, her steps slow and measured, relishing their terror. She raised her hand, and the markings on her skin pulsed, a dark energy radiating from her fingers, amplifying the sense of dread that rippled through the survivors as they fled.

Dwight and Claudette, who had been attempting to repair a nearby generator, caught sight of the chase, their hearts sinking as they saw their friends pursued by the twisted figure who had once been their ally.

"We have to help them," Dwight said, his voice tight with determination. But his face betrayed the fear coursing through him, his gaze flicking nervously to the generator and then back to the distant figures running through the fog.

Claudette shook her head, her voice barely steady. "If we leave this now, we'll never get out. We have to finish the generator, Dwight — it's our only chance."

Meanwhile, Meg and Feng dashed between trees and broken obstacles, their breaths coming in gasps as they pushed their bodies to the limit. They could feel Liriyal's presence behind them, her gaze a weight pressing down on their shoulders, her steps soundless yet inescapable. Every time they looked back, they saw her getting closer, her form a dark blur in the mist, those blood-red eyes fixed on them with an unwavering focus.

Meg gritted her teeth, determination flaring in her chest. She signaled to Feng, and together, they veered off in separate directions, hoping to confuse their pursuer, to split her attention just long enough to escape. But the Entity's control over Liriyal was absolute; it knew their every move, predicting their desperation-fueled tactics with cold precision.

In an instant, Liriyal lunged toward Meg, her hand reaching out, fingers curling with a force that was both terrifyingly human and unnaturally powerful. Meg barely managed to duck and roll, the edge of Liriyal's grasp grazing her arm, a dark energy pulsing through the contact, chilling her to the core.

The Entity, feeling its prey slipping from its grasp, urged Liriyal forward with a renewed aggression, her steps quickening, her blood-red eyes flashing with frustration and determination. It pressed deeper into Liriyal's consciousness, feeding her a flood of dark thoughts, sharpening her focus, amplifying her desire to catch her former friends, to finish what it had begun.

The fog thickened, and the survivors found themselves separated, each one fighting their own battle to escape. Dwight and Claudette managed to complete the generator, the engine roaring to life as the exit gates powered up, the familiar sound signaling the faintest glimmer of hope.

But the Entity sensed it too, feeling the surge of energy as the survivors made their move toward the gates. It guided Liriyal with unyielding control, her form flickering in and out of the mist as she pursued them with deadly precision. Her every movement was a testament to the Entity's power, a reminder of its claim over her body, her soul.

Claudette and Dwight reached the exit gate, their fingers fumbling as they worked to pull it open, their breaths quick and shallow, eyes darting anxiously over their shoulders, waiting for the inevitable. In the distance, they saw Feng and Meg emerge from the mist, their faces pale, their eyes wide with terror.

"Get it open, hurry!" Feng shouted, her voice trembling as she glanced back, knowing that Liriyal was close behind.

Just as the gate swung open, Liriyal's figure emerged from the fog, her form dark and sinister, her blood-red gaze locked onto them, her expression one of cold satisfaction. She moved toward them, unhurried, savoring the fear radiating from their bodies, the hopelessness that tainted the air.

With a final burst of strength, they threw themselves through the gate, stumbling into the safety beyond the Entity's reach. They turned, catching one last glimpse of Liriyal standing at the edge of the fog, her form shrouded in darkness, the twisted markings on her skin pulsing with ominous energy. Her blood-red eyes met theirs, unblinking, devoid of the warmth and friendship they had once known. And as the gate closed, her lips curled into a smile, a dark promise lingering in her gaze.

The survivors knew that whatever bond they had shared with Liriyal was gone, replaced by something malevolent, something that would hunt them through every trial, a puppet of the Entity's wrath. They stumbled away, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that their friend was lost to them — and that the Entity's puppet would be waiting, lurking in the fog, for their inevitable return.