Rebirth: I am Ultraman Tiga

As night fell, the thick black darkness rolled over, covering the old neighborhoods on the edge of the city, as if it had become a dead corner completely forgotten by the world. There was a dead silence, only the cold wind blowing through the ruins, making a whimper like a ghost. The buildings on both sides were dilapidated, the walls were peeling, graffiti was mottled, and the doors and windows were open, like a huge mouth that was ready to devour people.

The dim street lamps struggled to emit a faint halo in the thick fog. The light trembled, trying to dispel the darkness around them, but it was in vain. As soon as the light came out, it was engulfed and swallowed by the fog, creating a hazy and strange light and shadow, making the already gloomy street even more blurred. The lamp poles were crooked, and rust covered the poles, as if they could not bear the weight and could collapse at any time.

At this moment, a sudden and strange rustling sound came from the shadow of the railway track without any warning, breaking the suffocating silence. The sound came from far away, rustling, as if some huge monster was quietly crawling in the dark, causing the ground to tremble slightly. Then, "Daimos" appeared - it was an evil creature that seemed to have crawled out of the abyss of nightmares. Its body was so huge that it was beyond imagination. Its raised back alone was like a slowly moving hill.

It was surrounded by a chilling mist, like a shroud of a dead soul, which rolled and drifted with its movements. Eight extremely thick tentacles twisted and waved in the air, with muscles tense and veins bulging, just like deadly magic ropes. Every swing was accompanied by a whirring sound and a fierce force to crush everything. The suction cups at the ends of the tentacles opened and closed, and mucus dripped down, corroding small pits on the ground with green smoke. The strong stench quickly spread, making people want to vomit.

Demos's triangular head was twisted and hideous, and his dark green pupils were like two will-o'-the-wisp fires. He looked around coldly and fiercely, and from time to time, his forked tongue stuck out of his mouth, and sticky saliva dripped from the tip of his tongue, pulling out shiny threads in the mist. It slid slowly between the rails, and the steel sleepers creaked under the pressure. Wherever it passed, gravel flew, and the weeds instantly wilted and turned yellow, as if they had been drained of vitality.

It had obviously just had a full meal, its belly was slightly bulging, and it was faintly glowing with a dark red light, as if it was still digesting the blood and flesh of its prey. But this did not satisfy its endless greed, and the feeling of hunger followed it like a shadow, driving it to continue looking for new targets. Demos stopped, raised his head high, and flared his nostrils. With his keen sense of smell, he caught the remaining human breath in the air and immediately locked onto a path home outside the block. There were still a few pedestrians there, unaware that the shadow of death was approaching rapidly. Demos moved his body, disappeared into the darkness, and moved towards his prey silently, leaving only the crushed soil and stones along the way and the increasingly strong, pungent stench, indicating his terrifying behavior.

In the darkest corner of the city, between the ruins beside the railway tracks, the moonlight was too timid to set foot. Demos, who had just sucked the blood of a drunkard dry, exuded a strong smell of blood and rot, and contentedly rose from the shriveled corpse. The drunkard collapsed on the ground, his posture twisted and weird, like a rag doll that was thrown away at random, lifeless.

His face was as pale as paper, with a bluish-gray dead tone under his skin, as if all the blood had been drained away in an instant, even his lips were cracked and bleeding, showing a horrifying dark purple color. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the night sky, the drunkenness and confusion in his eyes completely turned into endless fear and despair, frozen in the last moment of his life. On his neck, two blood holes were like the devil's kisses, with jagged edges, skin turned outward, and strands of dried blood still remaining around, bright red and dazzling, and had condensed into dark red blood scabs, as if silently telling the tragic scene just now. A breeze blew by, and a few strands of dry grass brushed against the corpse, rustling, adding a bit of desolation.

Demos's figure was suspended in mid-air, its huge body looming in the darkness, the cold mist around it growing thicker, its eight thick tentacles lazily stretched and twisted, sticky blood hanging from its suction cups, slowly dripping, splashing tiny blood flowers on the ground. Its dark green vertical pupils were like two bottomless cold pools, ruthlessly and greedily scanning the surroundings, not letting go of any corner where prey might be hiding, the bloody smell stimulated its increasingly greedy appetite, and its belly seemed to have a raging fire, urgently needing fresh blood to extinguish and fill it.

At this time, the urban-rural junction seemed to be frozen into a dead world by the thick night, and a winding and quiet path looked even more eerie and strange under the dim moonlight. The pale moonlight penetrated the layers of fog with difficulty, and the faint light it cast not only failed to dispel the haze, but also cast shadows on the overgrown weeds and crooked trees on both sides of the road, as if countless hidden evil spirits were waiting in the dark for an opportunity to move.

Xiaoyan, who worked overtime until late, was dragging her exhausted body to hurry home. The busy day was like a long and arduous battle. The piles of documents, the tricky clients and the meetings without a break squeezed her energy to the extreme. At this moment, all she could think of was the soft and warm bed at home, thinking about diving into it and isolating all the fatigue and grievances.

She was wearing a blue skirt, and her figure looked particularly thin in the darkness. She had carefully selected the skirt when she went out in the morning. The elegant blue color highlighted her gentle temperament, but now the skirt was wrinkled due to running around, and it was also stained with some dust along the way. Her high heels made a quick sound on the stone road, crisp but flustered, and every step seemed to be racing against the unknown fear in the dark. Her steps were weak and her body was slightly swaying. Her legs were sore from a day's fatigue, but her eagerness to return home prompted her to grit her teeth and force herself to walk fast.

The evening breeze rustled the grass beside the road. The sound was gentle at first, like a lullaby at night, but then it became like the whisper of an evil spirit hidden in the dark, creeping into Xiaoyan's ears eerily, making her scalp numb and her hair stand on end. She subconsciously hugged her arms tightly, trying to find some warmth and security for herself, but her fingertips were too cold to have any temperature. Unconsciously, her steps became more and more hurried, and the frequency of her heels hitting the stone slabs was almost out of control. The echo seemed particularly abrupt in the silent night.

As she walked, Xiaoyan felt a slight chill on the back of her neck, as if someone was quietly blowing air behind her. Her scalp tightened, her breathing became rapid, and her heart beat like a drum, but she didn't dare to look back. She could only pretend to be calm and comfort herself that it was an illusion caused by overwork. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw a dark shadow flashing in the grass by the roadside. She suddenly froze and stopped walking. Cold sweat instantly broke out on her forehead, and her clothes on the back were soaked with sweat.

"Who? Who's there?" Xiaoyan summoned up her courage and trembled as she shouted, but her voice was broken and hoarse due to fear, drifting in the wind. She received no response, and was only tightly wrapped in the increasingly intense silence around her. After a brief pause, she gritted her teeth, raised her feet again, and almost jogged. She hurriedly took out her phone from her bag, unlocked it with trembling fingers, and the screen reflected her pale face. She hoped to call her family and get some comfort and confidence.

However, at this moment, the phone screen flashed a few times without warning, and suddenly went black. The battery icon showed that the battery was exhausted before it went out. Xiaoyan widened her eyes and shook the phone in disbelief, with endless despair in her heart. "No, don't..." She murmured to herself, her eyes red and tears welling up in her eyes. She was isolated and helpless, and now she was completely reduced to a lamb to be slaughtered in the dark, and danger was following her like a shadow, approaching step by step, opening its bloody mouth, ready to devour her mercilessly.

The night in the suburbs was as thick as ink, and the dead silence weighed heavily on this desolate land. The old street lamps lingered in the fog, trying to squeeze out a few dim lights, but it only made the surroundings more dilapidated and gloomy. The wind sobbed and shuttled between the ruins. The roadside was overgrown with weeds, which were taller than people's heads and rustled in the wind, as if whispering an ominous prophecy. There were no pedestrians, and only the occasional screams of night owls broke the chilling silence.

Without any warning, the peace was completely broken. Demos suddenly flew out from the grass beside the road like a black lightning, like a long-dormant evil ghost, looking for the opportunity when everything was quiet, and suddenly showing its ferocious fangs. It was wrapped in the cold mist surging around it. The mist was like a materialized haze, exuding a bone-chilling cold. Wherever it went, the surrounding temperature dropped sharply, and a layer of white frost instantly condensed on the ground. With every breath, white air came out of its mouth and nose.

Along with it came a strong, rotten wind. This wind was like the breath of a demon, carrying the smell of death and decay, spreading forward in a fan shape. Trash cans along the way were overturned, and garbage was scattered everywhere; rusty barbed wire shook violently, making a clanging sound; wild flowers withered and died in an instant, and the petals were torn into pieces by the wind, mixed with the wind, and scattered wantonly.

Demos was so fast that it was almost impossible to catch its trajectory with the naked eye. It flashed and shot out like a cannonball. Wherever it passed, the air seemed to be cut by a sharp blade, making a sharp whistle. The sound was high and piercing, piercing the eardrums and hurting people, as if invisible steel needles were stabbing in the ear canal. The nearby branches could not withstand the impact and broke with a "crack", and the debris flew everywhere; the birds were startled and fluttered in panic, but they could not escape the fate of being caught in the vortex, their feathers were plucked to pieces, and they fell wailing.

The grass leaves were the first to be hit, being uprooted by the strong wind. Large tracts of green vegetation were instantly turned into debris, flying all over the sky, like an ominous "green rain". The leaves were torn and shattered in the air, mixed with dust and mist, blurring the vision. Some grass leaves were carried by the strong wind and embedded in the tree trunks, like sharp blades piercing; some were stuck to the glass of abandoned vehicles on the street, sticking together, revealing a strange mottled green.

This sudden change instantly turned this quiet and peaceful corner of the city into a hell. In the night sky, the stars were hidden, and the moon was scared and hid in the clouds, not daring to peek at this horrific scene. The earth was shaking, and all living things around felt the deadly threat from the depths of darkness. Insects and ants were silent, and animals fled, but no one knew that this was just the beginning of the bloody massacre of Demos. The subsequent tragedy was beyond imagination. The shadow of death was spreading rapidly, covering every inch of land.

The moment it hit Xiaoyan accurately, it was like a comet hitting the earth, with a dull roar. Xiaoyan felt a huge force coming from the side, and her body was instantly out of control, flying backwards like a kite with a broken string, and she fell heavily to the ground. Her knees first hit the hard stone road, and she felt a sharp pain, as if her patella was about to crack; her palms instinctively wanted to support her body to avoid head injuries, but they rubbed violently against the rough ground, and the skin on her palms was instantly scratched, and the gravel was deeply embedded in her flesh, and her fingers were connected to her heart. The piercing pain made her eyes go black.

Before Xiaoyan recovered from the sudden blow, she looked up and saw the huge and terrifying figure of Demos hovering above her, blocking out most of the moonlight. Then, it stretched out countless tentacles, which were like deformed pythons, winding and twisting as it quickly crawled towards her. The tentacles rubbed against the ground, and the hard stone road was scraped into grooves, with stone chips flying everywhere, making a creepy rustling sound, each of which was like the countdown to death, knocking on Xiaoyan's fragile nerves.

Xiaoyan's eyes widened, filled with fear and despair, her pupils shrank sharply, staring at the tentacles that were approaching step by step, her body trembling uncontrollably with fear, her teeth chattering. She used her hands and feet to desperately move back, her nails scratched a few shallow marks on the stone slabs, her heels broke, and her feet kicked around in panic, raising a cloud of dust.

Demos didn't give her any chance to breathe. One of his tentacle was like a flexible whip, instantly wrapped around Xiaoyan's slender ankle. The cold and sticky touch was like a poisonous snake just pulled out of an ice cave. It tightly clamped and slowly tightened. Red marks quickly appeared on her skin, followed by purple bruises. Xiaoyan screamed and reached out to pry the tentacle apart. As soon as her fingertips touched it, they were sucked by the suction cup. Mucus covered her palm, and a sour and numb feeling rushed up her arm to her forehead.

The rest of the tentacles followed, climbing up her legs quickly, as if to wrap her whole body. Xiaoyan burst into tears and screamed for help: "Help! Help!" Her voice was shrill and hoarse, cutting through the night sky and echoing in the empty suburbs, but she received no response. Her hair was messed up by the tentacles, and a few strands of hair were stuck to her face by mucus. She had difficulty breathing, her chest heaved violently, and her vision was blurred by tears, so that she could hardly see the horrible scene in front of her. The shadow of death had completely enveloped her.

Xiaoyan witnessed this horrific scene, her pupils shrank suddenly, fear was like a surging tide that completely submerged her, and her screams broke through the dead silence of the night sky: "Help! Help!" The voice was trembling, shrill, and full of despair. She used her hands and feet to move back again and again, her hair was messy, cold sweat soaked her back, and the hem of her blue skirt was torn into wrinkles. But Demos would not give up, and his tentacles quickly wrapped around her slender ankles, the cold touch was like a venomous snake, slowly climbing up, tightening, and leaving red marks.

Xiaoyan was completely trapped in a desperate situation at this moment, but her instinct for survival was like a raging fire burning in her heart, driving her to struggle desperately. She waved her hands wildly, her ten fingers dug deep into the soil like steel hooks, her nails burst instantly, blood gushed out from between her fingers, dyeing the surrounding land red, her ten fingers were dripping with blood, dripping onto the ground, creating dazzling blood flowers. But even if she used all her strength, she dug shallow pits in the soil under her, but she still couldn't break free from Demos's restraints that were like steel bars and iron chains.

Daimos was not willing to give up. He dragged his huge and heavy body and slowly but unstoppably climbed onto her. The eight thick tentacles coiled around Xiaoyan and wrapped her tightly. The suction cups stuck to her exposed skin. First, she felt a cold and sticky touch, and then, there was a piercing pain. The suction cups were like miniature whirlpools, greedily sucking her blood. Xiaoyan could clearly hear the sound of blood gurgling, as if the valve of the fountain of life in her body was forcibly opened, and her vitality was rapidly fading away.

She stared at the nightmare-like scene with her eyes wide open, filled with fear, unwillingness and despair, but gradually, her vision began to blur, and everything around her seemed to be covered by a layer of frosted glass. The figure of Demos in front of her went from clear to hazy, and the cold mist and twisting tentacles seemed to have become an illusory painting, slowly spreading away.

At the same time, Xiaoyan's face changed at a speed visible to the naked eye. First, the rosy color faded and turned pale as paper, bloodless. Then, a grayish-blue hue quickly spread, as if the leaves were shrunken and darkened by frost. In an instant, purple climbed up her cheeks, and her lips were cracked. The cracks were like dry riverbeds, oozing blood, and then completely black. Her body was limp and powerless, and her limbs drooped limply, and she no longer had the strength to struggle.

Xiaoyan's breathing became increasingly rapid and weak. After her chest rose and fell violently for a few times, it finally stopped slowly. She closed her eyes and died. Her eyes, which were once lively and full of hope, were now dead and dark, like two deep dry wells, no longer shining. Her still warm body lay quietly on the cold road, her hair scattered messily, her skirt wrinkled and stained with dirt and blood, like a flower withered in the dark night, ruthlessly deprived of its vitality, leaving only the coldness and silence of death to witness this tragic tragedy.

The wind was still blowing on the small road in the suburbs, and the grass rustled, as if it was singing a low mourning song for the lost life. The moonlight quietly peeked out from the clouds, casting a pale and clear light on Xiaoyan's lifeless body, as if it was also sighing and mourning for the innocent soul that disappeared. After Daimos finished smoking, he contentedly disappeared into the darkness, leaving only blood and sorrow behind, as if nothing had happened, but making the night even more gloomy.