Hearing Zabaleta's words, we were instantly enraged to learn that the MYSTERY formation was the handiwork of these two in-laws - a trap that had nearly cost us our lives.
Without waiting for them to emerge, several of us rushed down and blocked the exit. Before they could speak, my eyes swept across the chamber filled with animal carcasses - pigs, cows, sheep in great numbers, along with cats and dogs. Some were already rotting, filling the air with putrid stench. The congealed blood covering the floor made some of us gag, our throats itching with nausea.
"You... what are you doing here—" Yuzmv stammered when his dark deeds were uncovered.
So this was where she'd disappeared to - hiding corpses beneath the attic. No wonder we never saw her.
"Explain this," I demanded. "How much of what you told us earlier was true?"
Normally I'd walk away from such swindlers without a second thought, but they'd nearly gotten us killed. With so many animal corpses here, God knows what other atrocities these in-laws had committed.
"We didn't lie. We told you what needed to be told," Zabaleta said with affected sincerity. "These are just our winter provisions. Our family has traditions of seasonal preservation."
"Winter provisions? What the hell do you need a freezer for then? At least come up with a better lie. Look at these carcasses - completely unprocessed. You expect me to believe you eat this? Go on, take a bite if you dare." My voice trembled with fury.
The in-laws paled as they stared at the rotting animals. No amount of cooking could mask that stench - no human could stomach such filth. Yet they kept obstinately dodging the truth with pathetic excuses.
Left with no choice, I signaled Antonio to apply some "persuasion." Sometimes only pain could loosen tongues.
Antonio twisted Zabaleta's arm at an unnatural angle, applying precise pressure until the man whimpered in agony. Within moments, Zabaleta was slapping the wall in surrender, promising full confession. An effective technique indeed.
When Antonio released him, the man only found slight relief - his face remained sickly green from the lingering pain. Good. Antonio knew exactly how much pressure to apply. This marked my first time resorting to such methods with tattooed clients, but these in-laws had crossed every line. Their dealings with the underworld weren't just business - they were playing with lives.
After catching his breath, Zabaleta began his confession: He had indeed been a programmer once, developing specialized software for live-streaming animal cruelty shows catering to depraved fetishes - a lucrative but damned trade.
The software became wildly popular, and Zabaleta made a fortune from it—enough to buy this house.
But the success didn't last. The software was illegal, constantly under investigation, and users gradually abandoned it.
Zabaleta grew desperate. He tried everything to retain his audience until, on one of those dark web forums, he stumbled upon a Mystic Formation—a ritual said to summon the vengeful spirits of the Hellish Animal Realm.
It sounded like a gimmick, perfect for feeding his viewers' hunger for the grotesque and supernatural. So, Zabaleta began practicing the formation.
The ritual was simple: torture an animal to death, draw a twisted sigil in its blood, then sacrifice a few more creatures to activate the formation and summon the spirits.
It was a sickening mix of animal cruelty and paranormal spectacle—gruesome, shocking, and undeniably marketable. The moment Zabaleta launched the stream, it exploded in popularity. Subscribers multiplied, drawing in hordes of spectators.
But the formation didn't work. No vengeful spirits appeared. Disappointed, Zabaleta had Yuzmv don an animal mask and grotesque makeup to pretend to be the spirit, just for the show.
The act fooled many, boosting Zabaleta's fame. What he didn't realize was that the Mystic Formation was real—and so were the Vengeful Spirits.
After shutting down the stream, Zabaleta noticed something horrifying: the animal corpses had vanished. The blood-drawn formation on the rooftop pulsed with an eerie crimson glow, and from within it came a bone-chilling howl—an unearthly wail of tormented beasts.
The two in-laws were petrified. They tried to scrub the formation away, but it was too late.
The spirits were already crawling out.
Most were the very animals they had slaughtered, now fused with the souls of the Hellish Animal Realm, reborn as enraged, twisted specters.
The spirits didn't kill them immediately. Instead, they tormented the Zabaletas just as the two had tormented their victims.
Midnight knocks on the door. Overturned meals. These were just the beginning—psychological torture meant to break them. There were worse methods, too. The spirits forced the in-laws to act like animals, subjecting them to the same humiliation they'd once inflicted.
But torture was only the prelude. The Zabaletas knew what came next—the same fate they'd delivered to countless creatures.
And so, they began searching for a way to survive.
Lately, my Tattoos of Gods and Ghosts have gained quite a reputation in Vervicety. Those involved in mysterious and supernatural circles have been discussing them in major groups—which is how the Zabaletas learned of us and sought our help.
But what these two have done is utterly unforgivable. Their current plight is entirely self-inflicted. Too afraid to tell us the truth, they concealed most of it. Had we not had a few tricks up our sleeves, we might've already fallen victim to those vengeful spirits.
The weak are prey; the strong survive. That's the unshakable law of nature. We kill animals for food—there's no sin in that. But to torture them for pleasure? That's wrong. That's an affront to the natural order.
No wonder the spirits' hatred runs so deep. They were all slaughtered by Zabaleta. If we helped him now, those same spirits would surely turn on us.
Animals possess varying levels of spiritual wisdom, and so their resentment differs. Cats, for instance—their ghostly fury pierces the heavens. Chickens and pigs? Less so. Cows, sheep, and dogs fall somewhere in between.
Once Zabaleta finished speaking, he collapsed to his knees with a heavy thud, then began slapping himself violently, crying that it was all his fault—that greed had blinded him, made him cross every line for money. But his crimes weren't worth death, he pleaded, begging us to save him. Yuzmv followed suit, dropping to his knees and striking his own face.
These two were despicable, yes—but not capital-offense despicable. If I didn't intervene, they'd die for sure. There were still many spirits lurking, waiting to emerge. Once they did, they'd tear the in-laws apart. There'd be no hiding, no fighting back.
"Fine, we'll save you— on one condition," I said. "Every cent you made from this, plus the sale of this house, goes to mountain children in need. Only true repentance and good deeds can save you now. Otherwise, not even the gods will spare you."
Watching them march to their doom would be pointless. Better to redeem them—trade evil for good. That wasn't such a bad outcome. Whether they'd truly repent, though, remained to be seen.
"Yes! Yes, we promise!" The Zabaletas agreed without hesitation. Compared to their lives, money meant nothing.
Now that we'd decided to save them, it was time for the tattoos.