The Black Man hurtled violently into the darkness…

Even the metallic floor shook beneath his feet.

One of his black arms slammed into the entity, hurling it across the corridor like a piece of iron.

The wall shattered, and red sparks flew in every direction.

The entity sprang to its feet with unnatural speed.

Its long jaw twitched violently as it let out a sharp growl.

Then it hurtled at incredible speed toward the Black Man's white face.

But—

One of the eight arms caught its neck before it could reach it.

The Black Man squeezed so hard that bones began to crack inside the corridor.

“Seven years…” he said in a rough, terrifying voice.

“Seven years I’ve heard your voice inside my head…”

Then he hurled it violently through a massive iron door.

The door shattered, and it fell into the old experimental chamber.

Red lights flashed on their own.

And there…

The Black Man saw something that made him stop.

Dozens of skeletons.

Walls covered in claw marks.

Old photographs of Soviet soldiers.

But the last one was the worst…

It was a photograph of Szeneslaw himself.  Before the curse.

Written beneath it:

“The Lone Survivor.”

Silence fell.

Then, slowly, a growl began to escape the Black man's throat.

Anger.

Sorrow.

And an old hatred.

And suddenly…

His jaw began to tear apart.

Not completely.

But the skin around his mouth began to split slowly as long, black teeth emerged.

The entity within the room recoiled for the first time.

He realized that the thing he had created seven years ago…

had become more dangerous than himself.

The Black Man part (4)