Chapter 4

The spatial division allowed me to pen the book and to hide the crown of the unknown void, but this action was mostly impulsive,

The thought struck me that she might have noticed my actions amid the heavy time I spent with Bloody, despite the silence already passing for seconds.

[So, did you sleep well?]

Her voice was slightly choked from her usual femininity, reverberating not with an echo but with an impact.

“Yeah.”

It had happened so suddenly: sweeping around the surroundings, looking me up and down with that gesture, I couldn’t help but tremble.

[Orel.]

I felt it instinctively.

I should not answer that word.

[Answer me, Orel.]

“The day’s bright. Feeling good too,”

I turned my squeaking body as naturally as possible to walk toward the kitchen.

[Stop there. Are you really ready to see me lose my temper?]

“……”

I wanted to immediately lower my pride and submissively comply, but reason kept its composure despite the endless emotional lines.

“Why do you react like this?”

[Now, I’ll sleep next to you too.]

No.

Not that. Not ever.

Not at all.

Thinking my fragile pride had never been unveiled, I commanded my voice to remain as calm as possible.

“I don’t want to.”

The will was straightforward.

I could not show you such a state.

Of limbs crushed, blood gushing out, heart crumpled and regenerating while struggling in pain, then getting used to it. How can I show you the gradual loss of life’s fragrance, to you who alone remains beside me?

Even though spirits are generally strong and composed, the state in which you see me immersed in a pool of blood would be incomprehensible even to me.

[Stop thinking you can keep hiding from me forever.]

“At night, when sleepy spirits spout nonsense,”

[Orel.]

Am I caught? No, not yet. Just sensed the signs.

Although the little pearl with both white eyes and invisible mouth, surrounded by the fluttering black cloak, seemed agitated.

“The pocket space is much warmer when you’re asleep. This house is cold. The living room, walls, floor, all of it.”

By now, this fact had been clear enough.

Fortunately, or maybe due to some reason, this spirit gradually gathers strength and appears lethargic every night.

“So keep sleeping there.”

Being able to sleep comfortably is truly a good thing.

Really.

[It’s not comfortable. Can’t you feel how worried I am?]

“Listen to me.”

[Let’s wait and see. You will eventually follow my words.]

That’s frightening.

If the spirit were angry, it might seem like this with the air distorting around; oddly, it looked somewhat cute.

“Let’s go. I feel restless today.”

[·····I’ll wait for you here first.]

If we were considered ‘normal’ by people’s standards,

“If you get cold, come dressed up.”

Such beings capable of expressing pure astonishment or confusion upon seeing the changed bodies.

[·····come slowly.]

In a slightly brighter world, perhaps, I could have been honest with you.

“Please…Help me…whatever you want…”

Comfortable.

What does that mean?

For someone who looks like this pitiful girl.

That these awakening ones, having minds carved only by instinct, are great prey.

At the same time, these awakened ones, easily approachable by ordinary people.

Tearing apart limbs and drenching bodies in pleasure.

The act has become so easy, turning one into non-human until burning with fervor.

This is the second one.

“Ghh…Gh…”

Witnessing their instinctive attempts to stop bleeding made me feel exhilarated—are my feelings okay?

Calming myself while knowing carving away flesh near the carotid artery is understandable—is that normal?

“Save…”

Reaching the last breath of the woman, I pierced her heart with a knife.

I spread out my tiny palm to gather the surging blood into a red cube. Picked up a glass bottle.

– Clink.

I felt better.

“Hihi…,”

[····Let’s go.]

Dragged the body to a dark alley, throwing it among junk.

The investigation team would probably struggle finding it.

Lightening my body, I quickly escaped the alley. Despite the pitch-black dawn, a few streetlights illuminated the scene.

In recent days of activity, I noticed the security was tighter.

Despite not having many members, they tried filling ranks with regular agents.

Once a day, sometimes every other day if patience held.

Agents searching for me would be on the lookout, albeit with different approaches.

The city must be chaotic.

Perhaps they reached here so easily.

They didn’t notice me.

Surely not.

Even a child would appear young.

Chairman of the Association.

Oh, she or he might know.

If that’s the case, what a waste. There were numerous awakening ones diving recklessly, fearless of it.

If this innocent girl turns out to be ‘Orel’, it’s troublesome.

I can’t proceed casually anymore.

I struggle to thrust the knife drenched in blood.

I can’t ignore the guilt of trampling on the fate of those unable to resist, unable to even moan.

“Haah…Haah…”

It’s impossible.

I desired not to see that.

Her breath, screams, her twitching body, desperately seeking a return to life, contradicting her now cold eyes.

“Nooh!”

I want to taste the remnants of others; their fear and the horror they pour onto me.

Only those can satiate my burning desires.

“Heuh, huhuu…”

Do I need rationality, or is it necessary?

Look down.

Blood from the wounded abdomen gushed forth.

I killed again.

I killed a man.

I can’t tell anymore.

Silence.

Suffocating silence.

Pleasure soared to heights akin to being cursed then crashed down.

“Ah, ah.”

More repetition, the recurring cycle of the same day.

Killing someone and convincing myself I’m still human.

Continuously reminding myself I am not the deranged person who once massacred hundreds of people.

[……]

Why?

Why not say anything, Bloody?

A sigh of helplessness would usually come.

Reprimand me, scold me.

Anything, so long as it breaks the suffocating silence, allowing me to either shatter or end everything.

When did I get back home?

Realizing it was dawn, I inserted mechanisms into my arm, directly bursting the cubes of blood, saturating my body with heat.

Yet, the ticking sound of the clock remained.

Just waiting.

My own personal clock displaying solely for me, emitting only my noise.

The hour hand, minute hand, second hand.

– Tick tick.

It must be a sign of mental illness.

Even before killing someone, such disorder must have surfaced.

Scratch.

Is this punishment?

The recurring cycle of heart bursting and regenerating.

Cries of agony, blood churning within.

Is this punishment for not overcoming the lust for slaughter?

“Ahah…”

It’s fine now.

I obtained the very blood you desired.

Then give me the crown, that crown you wore earlier.

Hurry, offer that beautiful crown which can release me from these dreadful shackles.

The crown which guides my final page to death.

– Click, thump, thud, dri, drurrkk.

Waiting.

You asked for it eagerly.

Look, isn’t this the red sea, swirling in a small bottle?

Silence, cease your incessant counting.

Don’t you see, my desire fulfilled?

“Uh-huh”

Straining from within, choking, lifting my face, clenched hands around my heart.

This disgusting clock floated eerily, frozen mid-air.

“Why…”

Why not give it?

Did you not realize I abandoned humanity and surrendered to desires?

I endured years, embracing the pain, accepting living as a vampire, losing my sense of self.

What more do you want?

Didn’t I lose everything already?

Or were you merely mocking me?

“Kill me.”

Break my heart.

Pour out the blood with no regeneration left.

Please do it.

Please.

Until my heart bursts, my lips swollen, spewing blood endlessly, then the clock snickers sarcastically.

Swirling around once more and catching an azure book that had fallen face-first on the floor.

Feeling utterly defeated, biting my lip, flailing my arm.

The tremor saturated with rage spilled over, flooding the living area with a crimson puddle.

In utter disregard, the clock continued, spewing air currents in a grotesque dance, and the azure book began to glow.

A high-spirited crown began forming atop the ground, emerging from the rising smoke.

Its brilliance blinding.

Swiftly,

– Click-click.

Countless pages of the book turned, reaching the final chapter.

‘Genesis’.

To end the cycle of murder, to destroy this tortured body that remembers pain, and to迎接