Chapter 17: 15 | despise; a weakness to exploit

[a phantom calls for the child he's lost]

——xxx——

The wounds on Lucas’ body were no joking manner, with the copious amount of liquid coating his clothes, and bleeding onto the floor. Enough to make him dizzy, but not life threatening yet.

“We need to investigate the source of the sound.” Lucas insisted, shaking away Nora’s clamoring hands that were both panicked and scared. “I thought people would only die if they disobeyed the rules, but perhaps the Story seeks death for us regardless.”

If surviving was a matter of luck, how long could he persist? It actually made sense that the Stories’ primary aim was to wipe out the humans crawling about.

“Lucas, no. If the bleeding persists, I cannot guarantee your safety. We need to look for something to bandage your wounds.”

“This is nothing.”

“Lucas.”

He squinted lazily, before sighing at the motherly scolding of the other. Really, although the wound seemed terrible, his healing ability had slightly increased since the previous Stories, and he didn’t feel terrible.

However, it would indeed be wise to stop the blood flow. He loosened the loose, black clothes that hung on his body—a prison attire that made him stand out from the other uniforms because of his degree of danger.

He tugged at the corner, before roughly tearing through the fabric. When he successfully tore it out, he tucked in his chin to eye the wounds, carefully wrapping them around.

The entire thing was done flawlessly and with skill, as if done many times before.

Nora paused. “You seem to have experience with first-aid, Lucas?”

“Just for my own injuries.” He pulled at the end, knotting it and standing up. “Let’s go.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.”

The woman stared at him uncertainly, before giving in upon realizing there was no convincing the stubborn man to be more careful.

The two followed the lingering crowd outside, stopping where everybody gathered in front of the communal showers. Harsh whispering ran through the group, and Lucas made out the terrified expression of many.

He pushed his way through, before catching a glimpse of the inside. Turning, he shook his head at Nora. “Find Rome, and make sure he doesn’t see the scene.”

“W-what is it?”

It was a good question. Could the mound of flesh sticking to the yellowed bathroom walls even be called human anymore? The entire scene was an obscene massacre, with long, brown hair ripped out and plastered to the floor.

A man’s body slumped, too disfigured to make out the features as if his skin had been peeled and scarred. His limbs twisted into various angles, on the verge of simply falling off.

But that wasn’t the strangest part. The body was a mere sack of flesh and blood—there were no bones to give it any structure.

The guards were yelling out, trying to contain the crowd. Lucas walked over to a black-haired officer, who sneered at his approach.

“The hell you want, brat?”

Lucas stood calmly, even at the sound of throwing up behind his back. Most people couldn’t bear witness to such a scene. “What happened?”

“Hah? Punishment, that’s what. The idiot was disobeying, so what’d you expect?”

“What did he do?”

An ugly chuckle stretched on the man’s dry lips. “Does it matter? He refused us, so he got what was coming to him.”

He waved Lucas off, threatening to do the same if he continued bothering the guards. Lucas fell into a complete silence. What did they consider disobeying? Under what circumstances was punishment required?

The officers in this Story were more dangerous than the ghost Nora saw, and likely more deadly than the upcoming execution.

The low crunch of heavy footsteps settled beside him, the blue-eyed man observing the scene. “Can’t say I quite expected this to happen.”

“You didn’t hear any gossip from the other guards?”

“The treatment of the prisoners is the most dangerous casualty in this Story. I didn’t expect it to be to this extent, however.”

Lucas frowned at the confirmation. “How do they decide the punishments?”

“There’s no system.” shrugged Elias, glancing sideways with a cool air of indifference. He seemed more interested in Lucas’ reaction than the sight before him. “I investigated especially hard, just for you.”

“The results of this investigation?” Lucas ignored the unnecessary words, as always.

“As I said, there’s no system. Any form of disobedience can be punished, but I doubt it’s unlimited. They likely have a certain number of people they can harm in a day. One person has already been taken to the Punisher.”

“When?” Although Lucas had been paying close attention to the surroundings, it was impossible to be aware of everything. Elias had more freedom in that aspect, unfortunately.

“Around 3pm, a woman attempted to scale the walls and escape. It’s no surprise she failed. However, it seems that breaking a prison rule results in a peaceful meeting with the Punisher, and getting on a guard’s bad side results in—“

He smiled casually, nodding at the corpse. “It results in that.”

As he spoke, large hands naturally wrapped an extra pair of handcuffs around Lucas’ chained wrists, connecting to a longer chain that could be pulled.

“Now, why don’t we go back to our room for the evening?” Elias lowered his voice into a hushed whisper in his ear. “I’ll take a look at your wounds.”

Lucas scowled, but followed behind without protest. Why was it that this person had to word everything in a suggestive, and utterly ridiculous way? Or maybe it was just everything they said that was annoying and suspicious.

A few people eyed the pair with curious gazes, to which he stared back with a dead expression—definitely not that of one about to ‘sleep’ with another. The onlookers quickly put aside the gossip in their hearts.

When Lucas returned to his cell, his priority was to search around one more time. Earlier, he’d been more rushed and didn’t thoroughly investigate everything.

Elias watched him scuttle around the cell before laughing and sitting down on the ground to rest. He tossed a roll of bandages inside carelessly, indifferent to whether Lucas used it or not.

Grooves etched into the wall, hammered in out of desperation. Most likely, ‘Andrew’ was counting the days to leave. Considering how he was separated from the other prisoners, his crime would’ve had to be serious.

Murder? That would be the most probable, thought Lucas as he turned to rummage underneath the pitiful mattress on the ground.

His fingers grazed past a rough sensation, before he felt it more, scrambling to pull it out. A bundle of papers, wrinkled as if written on and erased several times over. He couldn’t read it in the darkness, so it’d have to wait for later.

As he rummaged through more, a cold, silver object traced over his hands. A silver ring? Was his theory of the man being in an abusive marriage correct?

It was too quick to come to an assumption, but he shoved it back under the mattress to take a look in the morning.

When he turned to discuss his findings with Elias, he found that the man was staring right at him. Or, to be more specific, he was staring beside the spot Lucas crouched down.

There was a low scratching sound, like somebody trying to dig into the wall with their nails.

Lucas’ blood ran cold, the area almost too dark to properly see. He took a deep breath and slowly twisted his head to look at the spot beside him.

A black shadow curled up, facing the wall silently, if not for its fingers that continued to claw mindlessly. He could vaguely make out the thick chains shackled to the thing’s ankles and wrists.

Tentatively, he called out, “Andrew?”

The shadow stopped, and begun to tremble. Slight at first, and then the shaking grew more violent.

Elias looked over at Lucas, standing up now and leaning against the bars, as if curious about Lucas’ reaction. Of course, if the quiet, gloomy prisoner died, it would be pretty unfortunate.

But if all that man could do was die, then Elias wouldn’t make a move to save him.

Instead, he watched as Lucas sighed, attempting to call out the shadow’s name several more times before scooting over. The man squinted, annoyed at being annoyed, before landing a decisive slap on the thing’s head.

Whatever the black creature was, it didn’t have any bones, easily falling to the side like a pocket of air. Lucas stared at his hand in disgust.

What they assumed to be the ‘head’, spun at a 180 degree turn, blinking two large, empty sockets that seemed like pitch black voids in the darkness.

The night passed with Lucas nudging the creature with his foot several times, and receiving no response.

Eventually, he grew bored and fell asleep on the mattress, with Elias wondering how somebody could sleep next to a ghost with such a peaceful expression.

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However, the next day continued to be just as futile, and their investigation led to nowhere. The next day would be the Trial, to determine what crime they committed. If they couldn’t answer, then it’d be the end.

Lucas leaned against the wall, frowning. He’d retired to his cell earlier, in order to read the papers before it grew too dim—which, in his jail section, came much earlier than others.

Thankfully, he confirmed that Nora and Rome’s crime was indeed the same as his brother’s in the novel after the little boy gaped at the terrible mass of black on the ceiling that continued to let out a quiet hum.

He only needed to figure out who the criminal was, though it Nora probably could discover it on her own. The child too met Lucas’ expectations, when he finally came face to face with a cut up corpse in the garden.

Rome had widened his eyes in terror, before swallowing and running over to Lucas. “There’s a dead body.”

While terrified, the boy had also been eeriely calm. The contrast was strange, but also reassured Lucas. The child hadn’t run away either, when Lucas crouched down and investigated the body.

Completely cut up into chunks of meat, in a state as gruesome as the last one. Another victim of the guards.

The man shuffled the papers in his hand, reading solemnly. Skimming through the messy writing that occasionally broke off into streams of incoherent thoughts, he quickly realized that this was a letter to Andrew’s son.

Andrew had wondered about his child’s well-being, reassuring several times not to blame anybody for what had happened. He questioned if the child was living well with his relatives and hoped he’d take care and live well.

A few pages in the thick stack were constant apologies.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should’ve done something, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. This is the only way I can atone for my neglect and cowardliness. I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. She’s gone, and you’re free. Stay free.”

The passage repeated those words over and over again. Lucas concluded that the ‘she ’ mentioned several times was likely Andrew’s wife, a woman that probably committed acts of domestic violence to her child and husband.

However, it seemed that she was murdered. Lucas lowered his chin, satisfied. That was likely the crime the man was accused of.

Only, based on the letter and the man’s supposed fear of women, the likelihood of him being the real murder was high. Who else could’ve killed his wife?

“Discovered anything interesting?”

Lucas glanced at the figure outside his cell, closed eyes with dark lashes that melted with the shadow cast on his face.

“Andrew was accused of murder. I believe he had a motive and a reason, so it’s hard to guess who else could’ve done it.”

Elias cracked open one eye. “Did he have any children?”

“A son.”

“There’s your murderer.”

It was a cynical assumption based on nothing but random thoughts. Lucas had, however, considered that possibility. It was just that he couldn’t come to a conclusion without investigating more.

Lucas glanced at the shadow that now appeared more frequently, always crouching down beside him and staring out in a daze.

“You seem so desperate to leave, that you continue to count the days, even after death.” muttered the prisoner absentmindedly, twirling the silver ring between his fingers. “Your reputation in the prison is timid, cowardly. Weak.”

This pitiful and pathetic father would rot away in jail until his execution. This story was one that already occurred, recalled Lucas vaguely.

The real man, the real Andrew, had already passed.

Well, Lucas didn’t have to find the real culprit, regardless. The main point was to prove his innocence, although finding the true criminal would be beneficial to that.

“Are you worried about the execution?” wondered Elias abruptly, tilting his chin back to peer inquisitively into the cell. T

here was always such a lazy, detached glaze over his stare.

“If I fail, then I’ll die. There’s nothing more to consider.”

“How cynical.”

“Says the person observing as if he weren’t part of it all.” Lucas cocked his head, probing. Elias, the King of Aces. Elias, the one who would bring destruction upon the world.

‘Elias,’ thought Lucas slowly, ‘The perfect ally.’

He’d realized during the time how useful the man could be when he wanted to, and how dangerous he was. Could a regular person stroll as if a spectator to the grand parade of life, indifferent to death or fear?

As if behind that facade of elegant smiles, and relaxed mocking, there was an undeniable emptiness.

A weakness like boredom was easy to exploit.

“I’m simply watching the inevitable.” smiled Elias. “Do I need to be interested in fools walking to their own deaths?”

“Do you believe everybody will be a comical act for you?”

“Humans are born to sin.” laughed Elias mockingly. “Why else were they given intelligence when they are so foolish? The demise of this world is their own doing. Greedy, wonderful things.”

Lucas took a calm, steady breath. “Do you hate humanity?”

“I despise it.”

Perfect. Because Lucas didn’t need an ally that he could become friends with, or another dreamer who wanted to save the world.

He rested his head on the crook of his arm, black hair falling over half of his face. The pitch in the room seemed to beckon him closer, polluting the pure, snowy gaze.

Lucas Silvius wouldn’t become a hero by the end of this tale.

He’d become the very opposite.

In order to save Kane, there were several things that needed to be done. Of course, stopping the demise of the world would eventually follow, considering the death of all was the death of his brother as well.

However, aside from finding Kane and becoming powerful enough to block all the irritating obstacles that came their way, he needed somebody to become his brother’s replacement.

A sacrifice for the Forsaken Throne. In the novel, Kane became [The Puppet of Delusion], and…

And what?

Lucas furrowed his eyebrows together. Kane would be killed by one of the Catalysts, the guardians of the throne. 

But what happened after he made his wish? What happened after he claimed the throne?

“Lucas?”

Elias stared at him curiously, eyes searching for answers that the other didn’t want to give. Lucas barely spared him a look, turning his head the opposite side to ignore him.

"Beside you."

Two empty eye sockets waited in front of his face.

At some point, the ghost had left his position and sat beside Lucas, waiting for the man to turn around. From up close, and thanks to the unfortunate light, Lucas could make out the fleshy walls and the gape that didn’t seem to have an end.

He grimaced, holding his breath as the face remained close to his own, not moving. Elias had also noticed, grinning in amusement. The man tilted his head inquisitively, having no intention to help.

“Why me?” hissed the ghost, but its mouth was sewn shut, remaining closed. Lucas could make out the slit where the mouth should’ve been. “Why, why, why?”

Lucas narrowed his eyes. “How should I know?”

“Whywhywhywhywhywhy—“

“Shut up.”

The body had morphed into something more recognizable, and it twisted its head back and forth, anxious. When Lucas failed to respond, the mangled shadow lunged for the papers that’d been tossed onto the mattress, and thrust them at Lucas.

“What—“

He stumbled back, pushed by an abnormal force of strength. Did ‘Andrew’ want him to take the letters? Thinking that, he grabbed the papers that were being flung at him.

Only then did the fleshy creature stop moving, returning to simply peering at him.

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