Horror Movie Survival Rules Chapter 156: Blood-Sucking Monster (End)

Fire seed to be the Sacred Tree’s weakness.

After its body caught fire, the slender creature tilted its head back and let out one agonized whistle after another. Its thin fra curled up in pain on the ground, no longer able to suppress the Chupacabra.

Freed from its restraints, the Chupacabra imdiately broke away and once again flapped its wings, rising into the air.

At this point, however, the Native Aricans no longer cared about the monster.

“Sacred Tree! Protect the Sacred Tree!”

“Water! Hurry, get water!”

They shouted in panic, their faces filled with deep, bone-deep sorrow and anguish.

Several of them ran into the bark houses and rummaged inside, only to find a clay pot and half a container of water. There was only one vessel for carrying water, while the nearest water source was over a hundred ters away. With the gasoline fire spreading so rapidly, by the ti they returned, the banyan tree would likely already be beyond saving.

The remaining people tried to use sand and soil to smother the flas, grabbing whatever they could from the ground. But the tree was simply too large, and the fire too fierce—such small handfuls of dirt were no different from trying to extinguish a blaze with a cup of water.

The outco had already been decided.

“No! No—!”

“You damn white people! You destroy the environnt like worms, recklessly logging and clearing forests, driving animals from their hos and stripping countless creatures of their habitats… You disrespect nature, committing endless sins, yet the consequences are borne by everyone!”

Watching the giant tree and the slender creature engulfed in roaring flas, Quilla’s face was streaked with tears. She raised her handgun with resolute fury, aiming at the group of white n hanging from the aerial roots.

“All this ti, it’s the Sacred Tree that has been struggling to hold on, purifying and protecting this land—and yet you, out of your own narrow-mindedness, have hard our only remaining, great Sacred Tree…”

If the Sacred Tree was destined to die here today, then—then…

“Get out of the way—!!!”

Just as Quilla’s mind was flooded with terrifying images and her body trembled uncontrollably, her hatred surging to the top of her head, her curved finger about to pull the trigger—

A familiar roar suddenly ca from the distance.

Quilla looked up in confusion, her brown pupils widening sharply.

She saw the wave.

A gigantic wall of water, dozens of ters high, rolled forward like a rising barrier, white foam churning across its surface. It swallowed the distant horizon and advanced with overwhelming force. In the blink of an eye, it had already surged onto the shore, crossed the hillside, and reached the altar.

BOOM!

There was no ti to react.

The pitch-black seawater, gleaming faintly in the night, roared in and struck like a blow from an unseen giant. Quilla instinctively closed her eyes, feeling as if she had been punched by an invisible force.

Her body was knocked backward by the imnse flow of water. The freezing seawater crashed over her and completely subrged her. Bitter, salty water flooded her nose and mouth and filled her ears. She tumbled helplessly in the torrent several tis before finally managing to steady herself.

By then, the massive wave had already spread around the banyan tree, extinguishing the flas. It turned into filthy seawater across the ground, seeping into the saline soil.

A cold wind passed through, and the moon, as if perfectly tid, broke through the thick clouds, casting pale light across the ground and illuminating the clearing once again.

“What… what is this…?”

The people who had been knocked down by the seawater struggled to their feet, still in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

In the center of the clearing, the fla-extinguished slender creature let out a whistle. Dropping to all fours like a giant spider, it lunged toward the Chupacabra.

Just monts earlier, when the giant wave struck, the grotesque long-tongued monster had also failed to escape the range of the crashing water. Its enormous bat-like wings had instead beco a burden, dragging it down as the heavy seawater slamd into it like a thousand-ton weight, pinning it to the ground. Even now, it had not yet recovered.

The slender creature did not waste this hard-won opportunity.

Even though it was covered in wounds, its thin lower body already charred black and cracked from the fire, it still forcibly mobilized every last bit of strength in its body. It pressed itself onto the Chupacabra, pinning the monster tightly beneath it. Then, with a sharp click, it opened a section beneath its shoulder blades and extended two long, thin appendages—shaped like tree roots.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

The two appendages shot out left and right, aiming directly at the Chupacabra’s enormous eyes, stabbing inward like arrows.

Psst!

With a soft sound, blood sprayed outward.

Countless tiny pinprick holes, like sesa seeds, appeared across the long-tongued monster’s head. From those holes, dense plant-like roots followed, writhing as they pushed outward. They grew thicker and more nurous, until finally a series of cracking sounds rang out.

Blood flowed, and the Chupacabra’s entire head was torn apart from within by those flexible roots.

Its struggling movents stopped completely. The grotesque body went limp and collapsed.

The Chupacabra was dead.

A mass of tree roots rustled and gathered, wrapping around the corpse like a net and binding it to the banyan tree’s roots.

Given what she had previously seen—the “at-sac bundles” tied to the tree—Everly reasonably suspected that the banyan intended to store the monster’s body as future nourishnt.

“Chirp—!”

While she was still crouching sneakily in the bushes, continuing her covert observation, the slender creature suddenly turned around from a distance. It raised its head and let out a lodious call resembling a bird’s cry in her direction.

The priestess Nava, who had been awakened by the seawater, raised her hand to signal the people supporting her to let go. Limping slightly, she walked over to the slender creature and perford a respectful tribal bow toward Everly’s direction.

“Please co out… child blessed by the sea.”

Hearing this, Everly hesitated briefly, then stepped out from the bushes.

She had just been standing on the hillside firing many shots at the Chupacabra. Anyone even slightly perceptive would have noticed her by now. With the slender creature’s terrifying speed during combat, if it intended to attack her, it could have reached her in just a few blinks of an eye.

But the monster did not do so.

It stood there like a courteous gentleman, communicating with Everly through calls rather than violence. This led her to judge that the slender creature held no hostility toward her.

So Everly, under the astonished and shocked gazes of both the Native Aricans and the masked white n, quickly walked down the slope and arrived in front of the altar.

“Chirp—!”

The slender creature moved first, dropping to all fours and crawling toward her with spider-like speed and agility.

To be honest, seeing it from afar and encountering it up close were two entirely different experiences.

From a distance, Everly had been more drawn to its slender form and flower-like crown, even feeling that, despite its strangeness, it possessed a kind of beauty that transcended species. But now, with the creature crouched in front of her at less than half an arm’s length, the overwhelming difference in size snapped her out of that illusion.

It was large—so large that even when crouched, its height reached above a human’s waist. Beneath its petal-shaped crown, and below its well-ford lips, one could occasionally glimpse rows of dense, needle-like teeth.

Beyond that, its limbs—like branches, with root-like tendrils at the tips twisting restlessly—along with its grayish-white, wood-textured, rock-hard skin, all gave off an intense sense of inhumanity that was deeply intimidating.

This was a powerful, battle-honed creature of enormous strength. In fact, Everly suspected that if it were not for the old injuries on its body, even a monster like the Chupacabra might not have been able to withstand a single exchange against it.

To be approached by such a powerful nonhuman being already required considerable psychological strength—let alone when the nature of its intent was still unclear.

Fortunately, her earlier judgnt had not been wrong.

After approaching Everly, the slender creature did not attack her. Instead, it broke off a “finger” from itself. While emitting a lodious, bird-like chirping sound from its throat, it extended the branch-like finger toward Everly.

“Take it, child. This is the Sacred Tree’s gift of gratitude.”

The priestess beside them looked at Everly with gentle eyes and nodded.

Everly t her gaze. In the old priestess’s eyes, she saw no calculation or conspiracy—only open, unguarded sincerity.

So Everly followed her words and reached out to accept the so-called “gift.”

The severed finger really did look exactly like a tree branch. It was light in weight and rough in texture. The mont it touched her fingertips, it imdiately seed to co alive, climbing up toward her right wrist. Its two ends bent inward and reford, transforming into a bracelet-like ornant that locked around her wrist.

It was very light, very snug—so subtle that, if not carefully noticed, it was almost impossible to detect.

“Chirp—!”

Seeing Everly accept the gift, the slender creature let out a long call. It lowered its head and, with an almost elegant posture, bowed to her. Then it turned away, crawling back toward the giant banyan tree, and gently pressed itself against the charred trunk.

Like a drop of water rging into a pond, at the point where it touched the roots, the boundary between its body and the tree quickly disappeared. Its gray-white form blended perfectly into the banyan’s tangled structure, sinking downward until it vanished completely.

“Thank you for your help tonight… It is already very late. If you don’t mind, could you please wait nearby for a mont while we complete tonight’s ritual?” the old priestess Nava asked Everly in a very friendly tone.

Everly still had a stomach full of questions, but upon hearing this, she nodded and consciously moved to a sheltered spot to stand and wait.

So, around the altar, the Native Aricans led by Nava once again beca busy.

The torches that had been extinguished by the seawater were lit again. The masked n hanging from the treetops were lowered one by one and bound with ropes. The muddy, sand-covered altar was cleaned. Even the exhausted high priestess changed into a bear-hide cloak adorned with feathers.

She carried a bell-shaped ritual instrunt engraved with strange patterns and stepped out from the conical bark hut.

Around the altar, the other mbers of the tribe had already picked up their respective instrunts.

The solemn ritual soon began.

Barefoot, the old priestess walked across the damp, muddy ground, step by step ascending the altar ahead. With each step she took, the bell in her hand rang once, producing a crisp, bird-like chi.

And each ti her foot touched the ground, the surrounding musicians struck their leather drums.

Dong, dong. Dong, dong.

The drumbeats were like a heartbeat, echoing her steps—like the sound of hooves striking the earth—heavily pounding into the hearts of all who heard it.

One beat, two beats, three beats…

Before long, even the sleeping earth seed to awaken under this distant, resonant rhythm, falling into sync with those gathered at the altar.

Dong! That was the spring thunder on the horizon.

Dong! That was river ice cracking as waters rose.

Dong! That was heavy rain falling upon parched soil, pressing down dust and mud.

Dong! That was seeds buried deep underground breaking their shells, tender sprouts climbing toward the surface.

…

There were no chants, no dances—only monotonous drumming, solemn footsteps, and gestures that aligned with the rhythm of nature itself.

When the priestess finally ascended the high altar and bent her knees, fully prostrating herself upon the dark platform, a gentle breeze arose, and a thin mist—no one knew when—descended upon the saline coastal land.

It was a scene like an illusion of paradise, dreamlike and surreal.

Everly stood amid the hazy mist, a fresh scent of vegetation drifting to the tip of her nose. Listening carefully, within the murmur of the Native Aricans’ chants, the entire world seed to emit faint rustling and crackling sounds.

She looked around.

Beneath her feet, the salt-eroded ground was being pierced by countless rootlets as thick as fingers.

These roots undoubtedly belonged to the nearby banyan tree. And the surrounding “crackling” noises ca from the carbonized bark of the trunk, which had been scorched by fire and was now breaking apart bit by bit.

After each fracture, the charred surface turned to ash and fell away in fine flakes. On the mottled wounds, the banyan’s bark—gray-white with a faint bluish-green tint—regrew at a visible speed, rapidly restoring the damaged areas.

Above her head, similar subtle sounds continued.

She looked up and saw that the upper canopy—covering nearly one-third of the tree’s total mass—was shedding brittle branches and withered leaves in a steady rain.

Decay was being stripped away like a disease. From within the gray-white branches, new life—symbolized by green—broke through. Fresh shoots sprouted, and clusters of new greenery pushed outward like scattered points of light.

This great tree was being reborn.