I opened my eyes.
It was the sofa in the dim living room. I widened my field of vision while feeling the crumpled texture of the sofa, making sounds as I moved.
Nothing particular was visible. That was due to my short-sightedness. My routine involves going out every night, wielding a metal blade, and fainting as soon as I get home, yet I failed to consider that I wouldn’t be able to perform normal activities if I turned on the lights.
I am truly an idiot.
When I first furnished my home, I thought that putting in some belongings and furniture would make it resemble a place where people live, which now seems naïve.
It is dark. I cannot see. There seems to be something there, but of course, the image wouldn’t form on my retina, so I can’t see anything.
Indeed, that makes sense; the front of me is pitch black.
Someone who enjoys killing people wouldn’t see any light.
What I can touch is the sofa and the blanket. There is no pillow.
It’s cramped, too cramped. The living room, which always feels wide when I return home with the scent of life, feels narrow.
The chilling silence only deepens my sinking feeling.
“Bloody.”
Ah,
She’s not here.
She always enters the void and sleeps during the late night.
Well, I didn’t expect much. Having someone beside me is no different than a blessing.
I lowered my arms and placed my palms on my thighs. They feel soft and smooth. Truly, she is a woman. It feels slightly firmer than the cheek of a young child.
Sadistic feelings bubbled up.
“Ah.”
I pinched her. It didn’t hurt much, but I deliberately made a sound.
It felt like if I didn’t do this, I wouldn’t feel alive.
My trash-like mind seems to be about to go into a fit again.
I shook my head sharply. Forcibly twisting my body, I changed my posture from lying down. My upper body was raised, tilted, and then straightened again.
– Splash.
As I steadied my creaky body and placed my feet down, I touched something.
“Ah.”
Blood.
A sticky feast and the stench of decay like a flower bed.
An invisible red puddle invaded the living room floor of my daily life.
“It must be mine.”
In that fleeting moment, I wished it weren’t mine.
The fact that I had unknowingly spilled fresh blood meant that, like beasts shedding their fur, I needed to inject that red liquid once again.
To not lose my sanity.
I really want to tear this body apart, don’t I?
I rolled up my sleeves and exposed my upper arms. I brought the machine to the outside of my skin.
With a click – there was a sound, and I felt a strange sensation as a cold liquid seeped into my veins.
“···Ugh, haa.”
I grasped my chest with trembling hands. My heart convulses and shakes.
It’s been a long time since my breathing became ragged.
“Haa, huff, haa.”
– Tick.
I can see the clock.
A clock that only I can see, floating in the air.
Four sharp fangs that could be seen only in a beast.
An oval antique frame surrounds it.
The size is just right for my hand.
Crunch.
In fact, I had seen it for several days but ignored it.
Thinking that it was caused by this damned character’s mental illness, I thought it would disappear if I just ignored it.
But as always, I wondered if it harbored a grudge against me, as things would never bend to my will.
– Ticktickticktickticktick.
Ignoring the ensuing noise, I once again brought the machine to my arm.
Another strange sensation, another chill.
Blood is supplied to my heart, and after a few seconds of silence.
My heart bursts.
Crunch.
“Ugh – Pwah!”
At first, it hurt. It hurt so much that I almost blew up the house.
However, this magnificent body has probably gotten used to it, even alleviating this repeated pain.
Exactly the 86th time, no, let me correct that.
Now, at the 87th burst of my heart, this is all I feel.
“Ah, ah.”
For a few seconds, a large quantity of blood mixed with magic power swirls through my body, and the rapidly thickening magic and quality of blood is too much for my body to handle, causing it to stop operating.
A ringing in my ears pierces through, and my body screams.
Blood tears flow from my eyes, and my insides churn.
Looking back, it seems like this body is really weak.
Is this what happens when a heart bursts?
I don’t know. I’m not human anymore.
Did I ever even have been human?
Chilling crimson blades manifest around me under the pretext of protecting my fragile self.
It’s ridiculous.
Self-defense, huh? Just kill me already. Cut my soul in half with those crimson blades.
Crunch.
Again, it burst.
The 88th heart.
When will I stop this meaningless counting of numbers?
“Hah. Hahuhuh.”
Laughter and moans mix together.
In this self-deprecating moment, my mind reaches its limit.
It’s a funny story.
A body that loses its sanity if it doesn’t drink blood.
With trembling hands gripping a knife, if I were to stab it into someone’s heart.
Watching their cooling eyes as they collapse to the cold floor and absorbing their blood.
It reacts with rejection, saying it doesn’t match my body and that our species are different.
So it is.
The bursting of the heart and the crushing of the limbs.
The severing of nerves and the screaming of blood vessels.
Thus, mechanically, this body regenerates again.
Little by little, forcefully, it accumulates the blood of another species and accepts it.
“Hah, haa. Huf.”
– Tick, crack, tick.
Vampires are said to be mythical beings that die easily if they cannot drink blood.
Then why is it that the dampir, who continues the bloodline, never dies?
Even when the blood dries up and the heart bursts, why doesn’t it die?
Yet it continues to provoke an insatiable urge that drives it to commit murder.
I didn’t want to kill people like them.
Three people a day.
Three people a day, really.
I can only let out a hollow laugh.
Is that the standard to not give up being human?
I must be out of my mind.
Thoughts grow shallow, and my blood rushes.
I don’t usually feel like this, but today feels particularly severe.
I need to smoke a cigarette.
Where did I put the magic power bar?
– Tick, tick.
I lifted my head, shattering the noise.
I looked over the shelf but found nothing.
Nothing, nothing.
Nothing at all.
It’s cold, it’s lonely.
My heart aches.
I think it’s burst. No, it must have. Or maybe not. I don’t know.
Indeed, it hurts a little.
Nerves scream and blaze.
A powerless voice echoes in the quiet room, fading away without an echo.
The cold air deepens the darkness of the unseen shadows.
I.
What I can do is.
Like the past ones, who have become cold corpses in front of me with holes in their hearts.
Blame my powerless and lethargic self and calmly accept the pain that constrains me.
Recall the memories of swinging a knife without holding onto my sanity, leaving behind victims, and thrashing in the red swamp stained with their blood.
“Hah.”
Myself.
I have long cursed myself, the one who has sunk the world into an endless swamp.
It was natural that I could not feel alive while maintaining this miserable life.
Since the fragrance of life took root and since the world was born, I have been alone in solitude, contemplating death and carrying out massacres.
I couldn’t resist my desires. I couldn’t face the fate that approached me.
If that is an unforgivable sin.
Then this must be the punishment imposed by the many people who feared me terribly and the entities who desired my neck.
The repetition of situations and the fragments of repeated thoughts.
It was inevitable that something would go wrong.
I feel a surge of anger.
I see the clock. My nerves are rapidly tensing.
– Tick.
Next to me, on the floor, I’m gasping and sitting there.
What are you?
What do you want from me? To harm me? To kill me?
At least answer me this.
Why do you only appear on days like this, only when my mental illness reaches its peak?
When that clock hand points to 12 o’clock, will my heart burst again?
– Crack, thud, crack, thud.
Tell me.
What am I supposed to do?
To break this vicious cycle of torment, what should I do?
Answer me.
Answer me.
To stop that damned ticking of the clock.
“……”
Nothing has changed despite my wishes.
Only, in this vast living room, which is so broad it gives me a headache.
My small groans continue to echo on.
───Thud, crackle.
At the sound of something falling from the shelf, my vision suddenly brightens discordantly.
My consciousness cut off.
I opened my eyes.
The damned clock from earlier has long disappeared, replaced by a blurry digital clock in my sight.
Morning was breaking.
“Cough, cough!”
The first thought that came to mind was that I needed to clean all of this up.
It was my small rule that I must never be discovered until Bloody wakes up from the void.
I cannot cause her worry.
Soon, she would tear through the crack in space and face me.
I turned on a small lantern.
I headed to the bathroom, roughly soaked a mop in water, and began to sweep the floor.
Although my body was not in good shape after fainting, I was accustomed to the weariness of my daily life, so it was not a problem.
With my small arms and hands, I carried out the repetitive action of sweeping the floor. The dark crimson blood and odor gradually faded and disappeared.
Fortunately, it was not as graphic as a hunting scene.
I wiped the table and tidied the sofa. The blanket wasn’t dirty, so I roughly folded it and placed it on the floor.
When it seemed clean enough, something strange caught my eye.
“What is this?”
Words glimmered.
『 The Origin』
It was a brilliantly blue book.
Since the day the world changed and my life fell into a vast hell, I had been organizing and writing about the vampire species day by day in this book.
However, I could not find the content I wanted in the end and could not record it.
– Rustle.
The pages of the book turned.
It was heading to the last chapter.
Yes, it was that page.
– About Death.
But there was no content written there. Well, of course…
– Flash.
From that very page, light burst forth.
The oval clock reappeared once more.
What is this?
What is it?
A framework of a crown formed in midair and red liquid began to fill it.
I sensed it instinctively.
It is necessary.
Blood to dye that crown red.
– Crackle.
And a crack formed in the air.
In a hurry, I swung my arms to cut the space, concealing the book and the crown in the air.
I can’t be caught.
The intelligence and abilities of the spirits are exceptional.
There’s no way they wouldn’t catch the scent of my blood, stained red on that book, and the aroma of flesh writhing in pain.
I felt anxious. Not only have I killed someone, but I feared that I might even hurt the spirit, the being closest to me.
A crack opened, and violet light spilled forth. A small red sphere twisted and emerged.
Bright white pupils and a dark cloak gleamed.
“Did you sleep well?”
I locked eyes with Bloody. I unconsciously tightened my grip.
Silence flowed.
