Branches whipped against Charles's face, but his eyes remained fixed on the retreating figure of 096. The tangled limbs of the trees couldn't hinder their enhanced bodies as they leaped and maneuvered between the trunks.

  “HAHAHAHA!!!” 096's maniacal laughter echoed through the woods.

  “Hey, this isn’t working! We’re matching speeds; who knows where he’ll lead us!” Richard’s voice rang in Charles's mind.

  “I know that already! Just stay focused!”

  With a powerful push off a fallen log, Charles cocked his revolver, now loaded with fresh bullets. This time, he aimed not for 096's vital points but directly at its legs.

  “Bang!” The shot rang out, splintering bark as a chunk of wood flew off next to 096's right leg.

  The rapid pace and the thick trees made aiming difficult, even for Charles, whose vision was usually sharp.

  “I’ll run; you shoot,” Richard suggested, taking partial control of their body.

  Gunfire erupted again. After several missed shots, suddenly, blood burst from 096's left leg as it was hit.

  The body continued to run, but its speed was noticeably slowing.

  With a predator's instinct, Charles lunged forward, drawing his blade in one fluid motion. In a swift strike, he severed the head cleanly from the body.

  Ignoring the blood that splattered, Charles activated his tentacle ring, and the transparent appendages quickly wrapped around the severed head.

  As he gazed at the face, his dark pupils constricted in shock. This body did not belong to any of his crew. The clown mask that should have been there had vanished, replaced by a horrifying visage.

  The head was devoid of eyes, nose, and mouth, leaving only four perfectly round black holes. It resembled a skull but with an unsettling twist.

  Charles scanned the surrounding woods, searching for any sign of the mask. It was evident that during the chase, it had slipped away unnoticed.

  “Did that mask just pull a new trick? Can it consume its host’s features?” Richard pondered.

  “Not sure. Let’s get back first; we can’t let it lead us into a trap.”

  Not wasting any time, Charles used the tentacles to secure the body and hurried back.

  Upon returning to the ruins, he found James’s massive form by the campfire, and all the crew members were awake.

  Seeing their captain return, they rushed over. Charles quickly counted heads, confirming that none of his crew were missing. The body he carried was not one of theirs.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Could this corpse be from the island’s natives?”

  The island's inhabitants were known for their bizarre appearances, and Charles couldn’t be sure.

  After a brief moment of thought, he approached the doctor, who was tending to the injured.

  Hearing the footsteps behind him, the doctor didn’t turn as he continued to suture wounds. “Don’t worry; most of them choke on their own blood when their trachea is ruptured. As long as I’m here, they won’t die.”

  Charles glanced at the second mate, Knona, who had a thin tube inserted into his throat, emitting a faint whistling sound with each breath.

  The doctor finally turned to face Charles. “How did it go? Did you catch that thing?”

  “It got away, but I brought back its host. See if there are any clues on it.”

  “Ugh, being your ship’s doctor is no easy task.”

  As the doctor examined the body, he twisted his metal pinky, causing a sharp surgical knife to spring out.

  While the doctor dissected the corpse, Charles ran his fingers over its smooth, black clothing. The material resembled a wetsuit but appeared aged and began to tear under his gentle tug.

  “There’s nothing on the clothing,” Charles remarked, glancing at the doctor, who looked like a ghoul in his focus.

  “Huh? That’s impossible!” the doctor exclaimed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You should take a look for yourself. There are no internal organs in this thing’s belly. Are you sure it was moving just now?”

  Charles crouched down, peering into the incision the doctor had made. Indeed, the chest and abdominal cavities were completely empty.

  He was certain that this thing had been alive when he severed its head.

  “I’m more concerned about who created this thing. Feel this,” the doctor said, probing inside the head’s black void.

  “There are no scars inside; it’s perfectly healed. Even I couldn’t achieve such a thing. If this shell was artificially created, it’s a perfect piece of art.”

  Finding nothing further, Charles felt disappointment wash over him. This corpse only deepened his confusion without providing any answers.

  The crew, now wide awake, stared at him, waiting for their captain’s next command.

  “Can’t sleep, huh? Then let’s move out.”

  Lily, clutching half a piece of bread, approached him anxiously. “Mr. Charles, what if that thing comes back?”

  A cold glint flashed in Charles's eyes. “Don’t worry; there won’t be a next time.”

  Upon hearing their captain’s orders, the crew began preparing their gear, the camp bustling with noise.

  “Big guy, keep your socks in check! How did they end up in my pack?”

  “Damn it, who’s seen my flask?”

  Though the ruins were treacherous, they were still easier to navigate than the woods. Charles and his crew stood up and continued onward.

  As they moved, Charles busily sketched a rough map of the island in his notebook.

  He led his crew swiftly toward the island's center, reasoning that if there were signs of human habitation, that area was most likely to yield valuable information.

  A white shadow flickered behind the ruins, as 096, lurking in the darkness, once again controlled a new body, maliciously fixated on Charles's retreating form.

  By the next evening, Charles had explored a significant portion of the island. Other than 096’s sudden activation, everything seemed normal, as if it were just an ordinary island.

  In a cleared area, aside from the sentry, the rest of the crew was asleep.

  The watchman, Deep, gazed into the campfire, dreaming of his future. “If I become one of the island’s elite, I’ll marry ten wives! One of them has to be a vampire.”

  “Can you handle that?” chimed in the cook, Frey.

  “Why not?”

  “Forget it; once we get off this boat, I’ll take you to a place, and you’ll understand.”

  “I’m not going; it was your fault I got caught by a vampire last time.”

  Deep’s shadow stretched long in the firelight, merging with the darkness beyond.

  Meanwhile, 096, clutching a rusty blade, crawled like a spider, silently approaching along the shadows.