The monster within

His voice was filled with an unspeakable malice as he started walking towards the man named Geof, his eyes blazing with an otherworldly intensity. Captain, what are you doing? Finish him quickly! The man named Brian exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of confusion and urgency.

I know, but I... I just can't move, damn it! Geof replied, his voice strained with a growing sense of dread. It was as if he was trying to will himself to take action, but his body seemed rooted to the spot.

The black flames that had erupted from Ian's body were now spreading rapidly, covering the entire room in a dark, fiery shroud. They danced and flickered with an eerie, malevolent glee, as if they were alive and feeding off the very fear that emanated from the two men.

Stay away, you damn kid! Geof warned, his voice cracking with anxiety. But Ian didn't respond. He just kept walking towards Brian, his eyes fixed on him with an unblinking stare.

Hey, go and stop him! If this continues, we'll all die! Geof shouted to the other soldier, his voice echoing off the walls. But the soldier hesitated, unsure of what to do.

But, Captain, how can...? the soldier started to say, but before he could finish, Geof kicked him towards Ian with a desperate cry.

The soldier stumbled forward, drawing his blade as he ran towards Ian. But it was too late. The black flames that surrounded Ian like a dark aura reached out and engulfed the soldier, consuming him in an instant.

The soldier's screams were cut short as he was reduced to nothing more than a pile of smoldering ash. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning flesh and the sound of crackling flames.

Geof stumbled backward, his eyes wide with horror as he realized the true extent of Ian's power. Brian, too, seemed frozen in terror, unable to move or speak.

And Ian, still shrouded in the dark flames, continued to walk towards them, his eyes burning with an intense, otherworldly energy. The shadows around him seemed to be coalescing into a living, breathing entity, as if the very darkness itself was coming to life.

The air was heavy with anticipation, the silence oppressive and foreboding. It was as if the very fate of the world hung in the balance, and Ian was the key to unlocking a terrible and ancient power...

*****

The man named Geof was on the ground, his body wracked with sobs as the weight of his realization crushed him. He had been so blinded by his own ambition, so consumed by his desire for power, that he had failed to see the danger lurking right in front of him. "I'm sorry, Your Highness," Geof begged, his voice shaking with fear. "It was my fault, please spare my life. I'll do anything, just please don't kill me."

Brian, too, was on his knees, his eyes wide with terror as he gazed up at Ian. He knew that he was staring into the face of death itself, and he was powerless to stop it.

But Ian didn't respond. He just kept walking, his eyes fixed on Brian with an unnerving intensity. As he stopped in front of Brian, the air seemed to grow colder, the shadows deepening into dark, malevolent pools.

Brian's voice was trembling as he begged for his life. "Please, Prince Ian Indrath, please spare our lives. You are the rightful heir of this empire, and as the next ruler, please show us mercy."

But Ian's expression didn't change. He didn't even flinch. He just reached out with his left arm, his hand extended towards Brian.

And in that instant, Brian's eyes lit up with a desperate hope. He thought that Ian was going to spare his life, that he was going to show him mercy.

"Yes, he's going to spare me," Brian thought to himself, a glimmer of hope rising up in his chest. "He's going to show me mercy."

And with that, Brian reached out and took Ian's hand, his eyes filled with gratitude. But it was a fatal mistake.

In an instant, Brian's body was engulfed in flames, his screams echoing through the room as he was burned to death. He didn't even have time to respond, his body consumed by the dark, malevolent energy that seemed to emanate from Ian himself.

Geof watched in horror, his mind reeling with the implications of what he had just seen. He knew that he was staring into the face of a monster, a creature with powers beyond his wildest imagination.

And he knew that he was next.

Geof braced himself for death, his mind racing with the inevitability of his fate. He knew that no matter what he did, the outcome would not be good. Ian's powers were beyond anything he could have imagined, and he was at his mercy.

As he waited anxiously for the end to come, Ian reached out his right hand, the same hand that Geof had cut off just moments before. Geof's eyes widened in horror as he watched, transfixed, as Ian concentrated on his hand for a few seconds.

And then, in a phenomenon that defied all logic and reason, the right hand started to regenerate. Geof's eyes were glued to the sight, his mind reeling with the implications of what he was seeing. It was as if Ian's body was somehow repairing itself, rebuilding the damaged tissue and bone with an eerie, unnatural speed.

Geof was shook to his core, his body trembling with fear as he stumbled backward, desperate to get away from Ian. But there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Ian was a force of nature, unstoppable and unyielding.

"What are you...are you a monster?" Geof stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Without any mana, how are you doing this? This is impossible...this can't be happening."

But Ian didn't respond. He just reached out his right hand, the same hand that had just regenerated, and grasped Geof's right hand. Geof tried to pull away, but it was too late. Ian's grip was like a vice, unyielding and merciless.

And then, in an instant, Geof's right hand was engulfed in flames. Geof screamed in agony, his body convulsing with pain as he watched, horrified, as his hand was burned to a crisp.

But Ian didn't stop there. He seemed to be taking pleasure in Geof's suffering, his eyes gleaming with a malevolent intensity as he reached out and grasped Geof's left hand.

Geof begged for death, his voice hoarse from screaming as Ian burned his left hand to a crisp. The pain was excruciating, unbearable, and Geof's mind was shattered by the sheer horror of it all.

As the agony coursed through his body, Geof's drool started to come out, his mouth hanging slack as he stared, vacant-eyed, at the ruin of his hands. He was a broken man, shattered by the cruelty and brutality of Ian's actions.

And yet, even as Geof's mind was consumed by the darkness of his own despair, Ian's expression remained impassive, unyielding. He seemed to be waiting for something, his eyes fixed intently on Geof's ruined form.

But what, Geof had no idea. All he knew was that he was trapped in a living nightmare, tormented by a monster with powers beyond his wildest imagination.