Project:Imagine

As Frank stood there, jagged spikes twisting through his flesh, his vision blurred by blood and pain, something deeper stirred within him. The sight of the girl, Sarah, flooded his mind with memories, each more painful than the last. He could see it clearly now, that cold, rainy day. The sound of the rain hitting the pavement echoed in his ears, blending with the metallic scent of blood that still haunted him. He remembered running to her, his heart pounding in his chest, only to find her lifeless body lying in a puddle. Her yellow raincoat soaked through, and her pale face turned toward the sky as if asking for help that would never come.

The memory twisted like a knife in his heart, the grief, and guilt washing over him in a wave that nearly drowned out the present. For a moment, it was as if the hallway, the grotesque tree, the blood, all of it had vanished, and he was back at that moment. His hands trembled at his sides, and he could almost feel the weight of her body as he cradled her, his voice breaking as he whispered her name over and over again.

“No…” he whispered, his voice hoarse, the taste of blood bitter on his tongue. “Only someone who's going to die looks back on their life…”

The pain in his chest sharpened, not just from the spikes skewering him but from the rage building within, the all-consuming fury that had driven him for so long. His eyes, once cold and detached, now burned with a fire that nothing could quench.

“I won’t die here,” he growled, his voice low and feral. “I refuse to die. Not until I’ve avenged her.”

The surrounding air crackled with energy as the rage within him ignited. Lightning surged through his veins, coiling and twisting like a living thing, condensing into a raw, destructive force that began manifesting across his body. A shimmering electric armor crackled into existence, forming plates of blue-white energy that covered his chest, arms, and legs, amplifying his strength and speed. The spikes piercing him began to hiss and steam as the electric current coursed through them.

The lightning didn’t stop there, it coiled around his head, shaping itself into massive, jagged horns that crackled with untamed power. His hands shifted, the tips of his fingers elongating into razor-sharp claws, glowing with the same deadly energy. A tail of electricity whipped out behind him, lashing the air with a crackling hiss.

The storm inside him had become a living, breathing thing, surging outward with unstoppable force. With a savage roar, Frank’s entire body exploded with power, the condensed lightning coursing through the spikes that held him, obliterating them into dust. The hallway filled with a blinding light as the ground beneath him shattered, the shockwave of his power blasting the twisted tree branches apart instantly.

As the debris settled, Frank stood amidst the devastation, electric horns crackling on his head like a monstrous crown. His eyes blazed with fury, the raw energy surging through his veins in time with the memory of his daughter, fueling his every breath. His chest heaved, but his gaze was locked onto the towering abomination before him, fury radiating from every inch of his being.

“How dare you,” Frank snarled, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. “How *dare* you fucking try to use the memory of my daughter against me!”

Thunder crashed through the hallway in response to his words, lightning erupting violently from his body. The very air around him seemed to tremble, as if it couldn’t bear the weight of his wrath. The electric energy snapped and cracked, sending sparks flying as the atmosphere thickened with the suffocating aura of raw hatred. Even the light in the room seemed to dim under the pressure of his fury, the oppressive energy making the very walls groan.

The frenzied monstrosity, the grotesque tree with its floating brain and psychic projection, remained unfazed. Without hesitation, more jagged spikes erupted from the floor, shooting upward like deadly spears. Frank moved with lightning-fast reflexes, leaping into the air as the ground splintered beneath him. His body was a blur of motion, dodging the spikes with effortless precision, but the frenzied wasn’t finished.

As Frank descended, the spikes shattered, transforming mid-air into destructive bullets. Each fragment, now sharp as shrapnel, whizzed toward him with lethal speed, intent on shredding him to pieces. Frank clenched his fists, his body humming with electricity, and in an instant, he accelerated, dodging the storm of projectiles with impossible agility. Sparks flew as the bullets struck the walls and floor, leaving nothing but scorched craters in their wake.

Frank closed the distance between him and the monstrosity, the lightning around his arms intensifying as he prepared to strike. His eyes burned with the promise of violence, his electric claws poised to tear through the twisted branches that shielded the creature's vulnerable brain. But just as his attack landed, the branches hardened in an instant, the wood transforming into an impenetrable barrier. His strike, which should have sliced through like butter, barely left a scratch.

Frank grimaced, skidding to a halt. “How annoying,” he growled, staring down the tree. The frenzied wasn’t some mindless beast; it had evolved, and adapted. It was at least a four-star threat, its grotesque powers more varied and insidious than most.

“Let’s see,” Frank muttered, analyzing the creature’s abilities as electricity sparked across his fingertips. “Telekinesis… plant manipulation… hardening… and its hypnosis is on a whole other level. Just my damn luck. Looks like I’ll get to take out the rest of my anger on this damn thing.”

The ground beneath Frank became a chaotic garden of horrors, flowers of every shape and color erupting from the earth, each adorned with razor-sharp thorns, likely coated with a venom designed to paralyze or worse. The air was thick with the scent of those twisted blooms, their colors vibrant yet deadly. The flowers seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, writhing as if they had minds of their own, responding to the dark power of the frenzied.

Frank, however, was undeterred. His form began to shift grotesquely as monstrous wings tore from his back, jagged and gnarled. Eyes and mouths appeared along the surface of the wings, each one twitching and snapping as lightning coursed through them, illuminating the grotesque appendages. His right arm elongated into a sinister stinger, gleaming with a venomous sheen, while his left morphed into a grotesque maw, lined with jagged teeth and covered in twitching eyes that blinked in random intervals. His entire body became a living nightmare—small mouths and eyes sprouted from his neck, slithering down his chest and arms, each one radiating with electric energy, flickering with the intensity of his rage.

The storm of power that surrounded him crackled as bolts of lightning danced across his monstrous new form, casting long, eerie shadows in the bloodstained hallway. The very air seemed to hiss with the pure, destructive force radiating from his body, a terrifying fusion of man and monster.

Across the room, the frenzied monstrosity responded in kind. Tentacles of psychic energy began to manifest, twisting and writhing in the air like serpents. They were translucent, almost ethereal, their surfaces rippling like the surface of water as they reached for Frank. His reflexes kicked in, his monstrous wings flaring wide to block the oncoming assault, but the tentacles passed through them as if they were nothing. Each touch, though seemingly intangible, rippled through his mind like a shockwave, poisoning his thoughts.

The madness seeped in, subtle at first—a whisper at the edge of his consciousness, then a creeping taint that began to warp his perception. The eyes on his body twitched erratically, as though disturbed by the mental attack. His mind swam with distorted visions, his sanity bending under the weight of the frenzied’s psychic assault.

Frank gritted his teeth, shaking off the encroaching insanity, but the sensation lingered. The tentacles continued to lash out, brushing against his skin and dragging his mind closer to the abyss. His monstrous form shuddered under the mental onslaught, every nerve alive with both the thrill of battle and the gnawing sickness of madness.

Suddenly, a memory clawed its way to the surface of Frank's mind. It was a day burned into his soul—the day after his capture. They had taken him to a place he would never forget, the Gamma Facility. Cold, sterile walls surrounded him, and the air was thick with the stench of blood and despair. He had been restrained, metal cuffs biting into his wrists and ankles as he lay helpless on an operating table. His heart raced in his chest, not out of fear, but fury—fury for what was about to be done to him.

The memory became visceral, real, as though it were happening all over again. He could feel the cold, unforgiving hands of the scientists and guards, each one devoid of emotion, as they forcibly placed squirming parasites onto his skin. The creatures were unlike anything he had ever seen, resembling snakes with translucent bodies that shimmered with an oily sheen. They wriggled unnervingly, slithering over his flesh before burrowing deep into his body. The moment they entered, the agony began—an excruciating, soul-searing pain that twisted his insides and made his veins feel as though they were filled with molten lead.

His vision had blurred as he fought against the torment, barely able to see the other inmates strapped to tables beside him. Their screams filled the sterile room, but it wasn’t the noise that haunted him—it was what followed. Their bodies melted before his eyes, skin sloughing off like wax dripping from a candle. Muscles twisted and contorted, bones snapped, and in their place, grotesque horrors emerged, creatures unfit for any human eye to witness, monsters birthed from the madness of the facility. Their cries for mercy had been silenced by their own horrific transformations, their minds too shattered to comprehend what they had become.

But Frank had endured. The parasites had tried to change him too, to break him like they had the others. His body had resisted, he controlled the parasites, using their monstrous power as his own. The memory of that torment lingered, etched into his mind like a scar, a reminder of his survival, and the cruelty he would never forgive.

His grip on reality wavered momentarily as the frenzied’s madness clawed at his mind, feeding on that trauma. But Frank’s fury was too strong, too deeply ingrained in him, to succumb to the chaos.

“Enough,” Frank growled, his voice low, dangerous, filled with a lethal intent that could not be denied. The madness clawed at him, relentless, twisting his thoughts, but he would not let it consume him. Not now. Not ever.

His body crackled with raw power, lightning surging through every inch of him. The monstrous eyes covering his wings and arms snapped open, each one glowing with electric fury as his gaze locked onto the frenzied. His entire form seemed to hum with energy, arcs of electricity dancing across his skin, casting long, erratic shadows against the bloodied walls of the hallway.

The memory of the Gamma Facility fueled his rage, sharpening his focus. He had been through worse. He had survived hell itself. This creature before him, this frenzied abomination, would not break him.

The air was thick with chaos as more illusionary tentacles shot toward Frank, writhing like the limbs of a shadowed nightmare. They lashed out from every direction, twisting through the air like serpents, but Frank was quicker. He darted between them, lightning crackling off his form as his monstrous wings propelled him through the debris. Every move was precise, a well-honed instinct that kept him a step ahead of the frenzied’s relentless onslaught.

But it wasn’t just the illusions; the very environment around him had become an extension of the creature’s power. Parts of the walls began to morph, twisting and contorting under the frenzied’s telekinesis. Sharp, jagged weapons formed from the twisted metal and broken concrete, slicing through the air with lethal intent. Frank dodged, ducking and weaving as he sent arcs of lightning at the creature, each strike more brutal than the last.

Yet, the frenzied continued to harden its defenses. The brain at the center pulsed, branches reinforcing the bark-like armor that shielded it, turning Frank's attacks into little more than glancing blows. Every time Frank closed in for a devastating strike, more psychic projections or walls of wood would spring forth, thwarting his efforts.

Suddenly, without warning, an illusionary tentacle erupted from the wall behind him. It pierced through his back, wrapping around his chest like a constricting serpent. Though intangible, the impact felt agonizingly real as the frenzied invaded his mind with its delusions. His body spasmed for a moment, the madness seeping in through the mental assault. And that’s when the memory hit him.

It was a scene burned into his soul—one that haunted his every step.

His wife, Anna, hung from the ceiling in their bathroom, her body swaying gently. A noose had tightened around her neck, its rough fibers cutting into her pale skin. Her once-soft hands were stained with blood, and her right wrist slashed open with the kind of precision that only sheer desperation could summon. In her left hand, tied to her trembling fingers, was the cross she always wore, a symbol of faith that had meant so much to her. But now, it was a mocking relic, dangling uselessly from the hand of a dead woman.

And scrawled on the walls in thick, crimson strokes was a message that burned into his mind like a brand.

“May God forgive me for giving birth to a demon.”

The words twisted around him like the frenzied’s tentacles, suffocating, pulling at the edges of his sanity. They echoed in his skull, growing louder and louder as the memory surged through him, choking him with guilt.

Frank's breath came in ragged gasps, his body battered and shredded as the relentless assault continued. He felt his strength waning, the creature clawing deeper into his mind, uprooting memories he had long fought to bury. His past surged forward like a tidal wave, crashing over him, threatening to drown him in despair.

But he couldn't stop. Not now.

With every ounce of willpower he had left, Frank unleashed a furious storm of lightning, bolts so intense they shattered several of the creature's thick, twisted branches. The air crackled and burned with the raw energy he summoned, each strike aimed at the monstrous brain that hovered at the center of the frenzied's form. For a moment, it seemed like he was gaining ground as branches splintered and fell to ash.

But more grew in their place, faster than he could destroy them. The creature was regenerating, feeding off his desperation. Each new wave of branches was thicker, harder, and more relentless. Frank gritted his teeth, his body searing with pain as the mental strain of the fight gnawed at him.

Then, out of nowhere, a telekinetic bullet fired from the wall. He barely had time to react before it tore through his arm, shredding muscle and bone like paper. His right arm ripped off in an explosion of blood and lightning, the pain instantaneous and blinding. But Frank, driven by fury and sheer survival instinct, regrew it within seconds, his regeneration ability kicking in as flesh knitted itself back together.

He continued his charge, each step forward costing him more of himself. His body was a mess of torn flesh and blood, his skin ripped apart by telekinetic bullets and spikes. But he pushed on, refusing to falter, his electric aura burning brighter with every attack. Yet, the storm he summoned wasn't enough. The frenzied was too fast, too resilient, its defenses impossible to break through entirely.

And then something unexpected happened.

Suddenly, Frank felt his body grow unnaturally heavy, as if the air itself had turned to lead. His wings faltered mid-flight, the once powerful flaps reduced to sluggish movements. A crushing force surrounded him, dragging him down from the air with relentless pressure. It wasn’t just the branches and vines anymore, he realized, far too late, that the frenzied was using telekinesis on him directly.

“It can manipulate people, too?” Frank thought to himself.

He barely had time to process the thought before he was violently slammed into the ground. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through his body, bones splintering from the sheer force of the telekinetic grip. Vines slithered across him, wrapping around his limbs like living chains, their thorns digging deep into his skin. The sensation was agonizing, but the worst part was the venom. The thorns were laced with a hallucinogenic poison, and it surged into his veins, igniting his bloodstream with fire.

His vision swam, the world around him shifting, distorting.

Then, he saw them.

His wife and daughter stood over him, their faces twisted in grotesque mockery. Sarah, the light in her eyes replaced by an empty, hollow stare, looked just as she had on the day he found her. Blood seeped from the wound in her abdomen, pooling at her feet as she stood over him, silent tears mingling with the rain that wasn’t really there.

His wife, Anna, swayed gently, the noose around her neck a constant reminder of the day he lost everything. Her face was gaunt, her eyes dead, and the cross still dangled from her left hand. She lifted her right hand, still covered in blood from her self-inflicted wound, and pointed at him.

“You are a monster, Frank,” she whispered, her voice distorted, echoing in his ears. “Look at what you’ve done. Look at the blood on your hands.”

Sarah joined in, her voice trembling with accusation. “You let us die. You’re nothing but a monster.”

Their words dug into him like knives, twisting his soul in ways the physical attacks couldn’t. He tried to move, tried to shake free of the vines constricting his body, but the hallucinations wrapped tighter around his mind. His heart pounded in his chest, fear, and rage battling for dominance as his family’s ghosts continued their torment.

“Stop…” Frank muttered, his voice strained, barely audible over the chaos in his mind. He clenched his fists, lightning crackling weakly across his skin. “I won’t—”

“You’re the reason we’re dead,” Anna hissed, her eyes narrowing with disgust. “And you’ll never atone for it. You’ll just keep killing. You can’t stop.”

The vines dug deeper, the venom coursing through him, amplifying the madness, feeding the illusion. His wife's and daughter’s voices overlapped, echoing endlessly, driving him closer to the brink.

“No, Frank thought, his teeth gritting together as pain and guilt clashed inside him. “This isn’t real. This isn’t—”

But the frenzied wasn’t letting go. It tightened its grip, its psychic tendrils reaching deeper into his mind, dragging out every moment of his suffering.

“They’re right,” Frank muttered to himself, his voice hollow, almost resigned. “I am a monster. I’ve killed and killed, all for the sake of avenging Sarah. But in the end… she’ll never come back. Is there any point to this senseless killing?” His eyes flickered with doubt as another illusionary tentacle pierced his chest, driving him deeper into the torment of his memories. “I don’t know.”

The poison clawed at his mind, dragging him into another memory—a memory that he had tried countless times to bury, but never could.

It was the day he found Sarah’s lifeless body.

She lay there in the street, her small frame soaked by the relentless downpour, rain pooling around her as if the heavens themselves wept for her. Her pale skin, so cold, so still, gleamed under the flickering streetlights. The world had gone silent for Frank that day, everything except the sound of the raindrops and his own ragged breathing.

But it wasn’t just Sarah’s body that haunted the scene. Standing nearby, as if relishing the sight, was a man, smirking, calm, and cruel. He stood there without an umbrella, yet the rain never seemed to touch his body, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips as he exhaled smoke, letting it curl lazily into the air. His eyes were hidden behind the shadow of his brimmed hat, but Frank could feel the malice radiating from him, a palpable, suffocating presence.

It was him. Alexander Jones. The leader of A.E.G.I.S. He stood there calmly, not saying a word as a twisted smile filled his face.

Frank’s fists clenched as the memory burned itself deeper into his mind, the rage flaring like a wildfire. But in that memory, he hadn’t been able to do anything. He was powerless, crushed by the weight of his failure. The moment he attempted to attack him, Jones vanished into the storm, leaving only his mocking laughter behind, along with a single badge lying on the ground.

The badge of A.E.G.I.S.

The logo stared back at Frank from the puddle it lay in, taunting him with the cruel irony. The organization that had promised protection and peace, was the one that had taken everything he had left. Sarah.

The tentacles of the frenzied dug deeper into Frank’s mind, amplifying the agony, and twisting the memory until it was unbearable. The voices of his family echoed louder, mocking him, berating him for his failures, for his monstrous path of vengeance.

Frank’s body convulsed as the thorns tightened around him, his lightning dimming as the madness threatened to consume him entirely. His blood dripped onto the floor, mixing with the hallucinated rain, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

At that moment, Frank began to laugh.

Frank's laughter echoed through the ruined hallway, a twisted, unhinged sound that reverberated off the walls like the death knell of his sanity. It wasn’t the laughter of someone amused, it was a horrid, broken thing, born of madness, grief, and fury. Each wave of laughter felt like the final crack in his already shattered soul.

“He’s still out there,” Frank rasped, his voice seething with unbridled rage. His mind spiraled deeper into the darkness, the memories of everything he’d endured flashing behind his eyes like a cursed reel of film. “He tortured me… killed my daughter… made me a puppet for the world to beat down… killed my daughter… turned me into this freak… he… *killed*… *my*… *daughter*!”

The words dripped from his lips like venom, each syllable laced with an unspeakable wrath that had been festering for years. And with that wrath, something inside him snapped.

Lightning exploded from Frank’s body, a raw, untamed power that lit up the corridor like the crack of a thousand storms. The energy surged, burning away the vines and thorns that bound him, incinerating them in an instant. The illusory figures of his wife and daughter wavered in the light, their ghostly forms flickering before they were consumed by the storm. They tried to reform, to haunt him once more, but Frank’s focus was no longer on the past. His rage was all-consuming, an inferno that left no room for grief, no space for anything but vengeance.

He reached for the nail that had pierced his forehead, the jagged, psychic weapon that had melded into his flesh. His hand trembled as he gripped it, the surrounding skin pulsing as if trying to absorb the foreign object, it had been with him so long, that his body believed it was a part of him. With a snarl, Frank tore it free, blood trailing in thick droplets from the wound. His body resisted, the flesh pulling back toward the nail, but Frank’s will was stronger.

The nail dangled in his hand, slick with his own blood, the twisted metal humming with energy. Without hesitation, Frank positioned it between his pointer and middle fingers, a makeshift weapon of pure hatred. His fingers sparked with electricity, the energy bouncing between them, growing in intensity as he prepared for his final attack.

“Railgun,” Frank roared, his voice a booming command that reverberated through the air like thunder.

The nail shot out with a blinding flash, propelled by the sheer force of his power. It tore through the air at unimaginable speed, a bolt of destruction that cared nothing for the frenzied’s defenses. The creature tried to react, raising branches and layers of hardened bark to shield its vulnerable core, but it was futile. The nail ripped through every barrier, shredding the defenses as if they were paper, and struck the massive, pulsating brain at the heart of the frenzied.

There was a sickening, wet sound as the nail punctured the brain, and for a brief moment, everything went still.

Then, decay set in. The creature’s body began to wither, the vibrant, pulsating mass of the frenzied deteriorating into a mangled, lifeless husk. The branches shriveled, the roots blackened, and the once-gargantuan form collapsed in on itself, leaving only the disfigured, broken body of Hypnotist at its center. She lay there, a grotesque shadow of her former self, her once-human form now unrecognizable in the aftermath of the madness.

Frank watched, his breath heavy, as the last remnants of the Frenzied crumbled away. There was no satisfaction in the kill, only a hollow emptiness that gnawed at him from within. The fight was over, but the war inside him raged on.

Without a word, Frank turned and began to walk, his heavy footsteps echoing through the blood-soaked hallways of the facility. The storm of destruction he had unleashed faded behind him, but he didn’t look back. There was nothing left for him here, no purpose in lingering among the dead.

As he passed the wall, his eyes caught the sight of the nail embedded deep within it. It stood as a symbol, of restraint, of everything he had once tried to hold back. He didn’t need it anymore. He wasn’t pretending to be anything but what he was, a monster driven by fury.

With a final glance, Frank left the nail behind, a silent acknowledgment that there would be no more shackles, no more chains holding back the tempest inside him.