Once again, a cursed run through the castle corridors in search of the captive. Her screams echoed from another part of the castle.
In one place, the corridor wall split open, and a long arm with seven fingers, clad in a black sleeve, reached out, snatched a hunter viciously, and dragged him back. The wall closed again, leaving only a large bloodstain covered in frost. The senior hunter picked up the weapon that had fallen from his companion's hands and ran further.
In the castle, the female screams were replaced by male ones. Wild, unnatural, filled with inhuman pain.
The hunter and the Cursed rushed toward them.
The ceiling split apart. From it, a long arm with seven fingers reached down, grabbed the hunter, and dragged him upward. He fired simultaneously from both of his weapons, then reloaded and fired a third time before disappearing into the ceiling.
From then on, the Cursed ran alone.
In the room with the black entrance, he saw the horrifying creature. It stood before a tightly locked iron maiden. Through its small window, the hunter's eyes, filled with terror, looked at the Cursed. Bloody tears ran down them.
"Run!" shouted the hunter with his last strength.
Then the creature raised its hands, and streams of stone masonry mixed with blood burst from the walls. The walls and the dying hunter's screams rose in a simultaneous symphony of pain, filling the castle with a new dark experience, one it had never seen before, or had seen only in other proportions and amounts.
The Cursed burst into the room. Using his vampire strength, he instantly appeared behind the creature. It barely had time to turn. The hero plunged his long sword into the enemy's abdomen up to the hilt, while striking continuously with a long dagger into its flesh. Black blood poured over both him and the creature. The monster screamed wildly, its shrill cry echoing through all the rooms of the castle.
After a while, they reached a new place. Here lay the body on an iron bed, stripped of human skin and sinews. Only the bloody corpse remained, its eyes bulging in agony. It was the remains of the first hunter. The Cursed continued striking relentlessly. The creature could not shake him off. In a fit of pain, it moved to the next torture chamber, where a fair-haired, bloodied girl hung on the breaking wheel. She stared at the slaughter unfolding before her eyes. The creature's black robe on its neck and chest had torn into rags. In response, the monster drove several long spikes into the Cursed's armor. But he did not stop. He kept striking, blow after blow. Vampire strength held him, though his life force was gradually draining.
Several tracks of destruction ran along the walls of the torture chamber. The stonework crumbled in those places. Strange structures, resembling wrinkled white flesh, formed in the resulting channels. One of them ran along the upper perimeter of the room at a height of about eight feet and took shape as a large hand with long fingers and long brown claws. The hand grabbed the creature and lifted it into the air. From the other side of the room, another wrinkled white limb emerged, forming a second hand. Together, they tore the creature apart. It exploded in pieces of black, bloody flesh, scattering across the torture chamber.