𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐚. mo dao zu shi x male reader

twenty-seven.

the disciple didn't know what to do, so instead of thinking, he shot off in fear. he ran and ran, and his lungs burned as he tried to escape the menacing laughter, but to no avail. the laughs only got louder, and it gradually transitioned to psychopathic laughter, as if the person was laughing beside his ear, mocking him for his cowardice as he ran for his life.

the wen continued running as fast he could. the sound of his heart thumped loudly through his ears, followed by the sound of his ragged breathing, while the laughter only increased in volume. his vision started to narrow, he couldn't focus on what was in front of him, he was far too occupied with fleeing, escaping the horrors of the voice.

then, as if things couldn't get any worse, he tripped. he yelped when he fell to the ground, face first.

groaning, he rubbed his throbbing head, then massaged his aching nose, trying to get rid of the increasing pain. he squinted his eyes when he felt something liquid stick to his hands. he opened the palm of his hands, and he nearly screamed. from the dim, now red, light of the lantern, he saw something bright red on his hands. it felt thick on his fingers and it smelled of rusted metal.

he came to a horrifying realization. it was blood. he looked down on the pavement, his eyes widening in horror as he saw a pool of blood just a few inches away from a bloody handprint that was his.

he looked closer as he saw what looked to be, a person's hand, close to the pool of blood. the wen disciple grabbed the lantern, wanting the comfort of its light, but when his hands grasped the object, he wished he had never grabbed it. he released a shrill scream. the lantern allowed him to see what horrors lied in the darkness, rather, the horrors that surrounded him.

bodies, blood, and scavenging crows pecking on the dead bodies of his fellow disciples were scattered all over the place. when the light shined in the crow's eyes, the black-birds cawed in warning before flying away with the rest of his buddies. the wen disciple scrambled to his feet, although he had much trouble doing so as his legs were trembling. as he stood, shaking on his feet, a haunting melody began to play.

the sound echoed all around the death-filled courtyard where the wen disciple stood at the center. it was a soft tune, one that almost sounded sad, but as the song continued, it began to get more and more intense, as if the person playing was unleashing their anger in the form of a fervent song, and as if the song commanded the skies, the clouds began to part away, making way for the moon and the stars to shine their brilliant light down onto the earth. the wen disciple gasped sharply.

then, once again he screamed in horror. the wen disciple looked around him, but everywhere he looked, there were dead bodies, and puddles of crimson blood. from the single point of where he stood, dead bodies laid around him. the blood of his brothers painted the pavement red, and the wen disciple's precious sun robes had been stained an ugly crimson. the song continued, and the clouds began to part even more, revealing more and more of the horrific scene that surrounded the lone wen survivor. crows flew overhead, cawing in tune with the song. when the wen disciple looked up, he saw a figure sitting idly on top of a roof.

the figure sat there, erhu resting in their lap as they stared up at the night sky. then, as the song increased in tempo, the supposed, dead bodies twitched. "so one remains." a voice echoed all around him. the wen disciple looked up at the figure as they continued playing, with their gaze set to the moon, the erhu in their hand playing a serenade to the celestial body. the dead bodies of the wens rose from the ground, snarling viciously. their eyes were completely white, void of any life, and their skin was as pale as the moon itself. the wen disciple stepped back, gripping the lantern in fear, his other hand going down to the handle of his sword.