CH 7

Dark, jagged cracks spread like cobwebs across the stone walls as the cosmos recognized the sealing of an unprecedented deal. Lifeless and unaware, the wolf man's mangled body leaked blood steadily from the hole where his heart once was, thick crimson ribbons seeping down into the cracks in the stone floor to water the foundation of his mansion.

The child pulsed with euphoria as she kneeled before the dead man. Warm clots of fat and entrails overflowed her mouth and slid slickly down her throat, planting a hot, throbbing pleasure deep in her stomach. The power to maintain autonomy of her own life and never suffer again pumped rapidly through her veins, sending sizzling, scorching energy coursing through her small body. It was Rumia's gift and promise. Licking her lips with mad relish, the little girl savored her first delectable taste of human prey.

"So sweet—!" she gasped. Oily chunks ran down her cheek and splattered across her skirts. Her face flushed in ecstasy and she bent down to tear the stringy tendon from the wolf man's bones. She demolished the carcass and there was nothing left but a jumble of fat and sinew.

I'm sorry.

The child froze mid-motion as the tiny foreign voice rose in her head. Brows creased confusedly, she surveyed her soiled hands, glassy red eyes scanning her surroundings and settling on the gruesome remains before her. An uncomfortable feeling settled in her stomach.

"Rumia!" she demanded hoarsely. "What have I become? Why do I feel like this?"

I'm sorry.

Dread dropped like a foreboding stone to the bottom of her stomach.

This is what you've agreed to become. When you and I are thoroughly one, there will be no stopping the monster I've placed inside of you. These are the last minutes of your sa…ni…ty…

The child widened her eyes and inched away from the bloody mess in front of her, speechless.

I'm…sor…ry…

"Why am I not destined to be happy?!" She slammed a fist against the indifferent wall, quaking in rage.

I'm…sor…ry…

Dashing blindly, the little girl fled the scene like a mouse. Tears of panic flew from her eyes when she realized that no matter how hard she tried, she could not run away from herself, and she fell to the floor in a messy heap.

She hated Rumia. Wailing in anguish, the child buried her face in her crusty hands and condemned the dead girl vehemently.

"Why did you do this to me?! I wish your father had killed me! I wish I were dead!"

The image of a silver blade flashed in the child's mind. Her sobs faded as she raised her head and looked around.

Where is it?

She knew where it was, for Rumia's spirit had been ejected from her corpse before it found the child and proposed the deal.

With that, the child whipped around and flew down the basement corridor. As terrible and brimming with injustice as her life had been thus far, she had managed to hold herself steady and march onwards in the name of survival. However, at this moment, her entire world was collapsing catastrophically and she could no longer keep the broken pieces together.

Maybe I'm meant to suffer. Maybe I really am. The child bore this truth with brave acceptance.

She arrived back to the hated stone prison with a newfound resolve. For a moment, the child forgot the heavy sorrows of fate as she crawled up the air vent for the last time. Tumbling into the secret room, her body rolled with heavy momentum and crashed into the corpse on the opposite side. Rumia's withered bones exploded in a puff of dust, raining down in brittle white shavings amid clouds of ivory powder.

Without a moment's hesitation, Rumia threw her hands on the handle of the cursed dagger and pulled. It came free, and the other whispering spirits in the house were free to rest in peace as well.

Clutching the dagger with sweaty hands, the little girl rotated the weapon until its tip glittered in front of her heaving chest.

I'm still human. She smiled.

The child sat softly next to Rumia's remains, quivering as she tried to suppress the overpowering onslaught of madness pulsing through her veins. She knew she would be overpowered soon, and there will be no humanity whatsoever left in the fragile husk that contained a messy, monstrous soul composed of two broken consciences roughly compressed together.

"Turns out I will die by the same dagger as you," the little girl laughed ruefully with her lifeless companion. A sob caught in her throat, and one last tear rolled down the child's cheek. Hands shaking, she closed her eyes and brought the weapon forward, thrusting it deep into her own chest. The blade clattered emptily to her side.

The chattering spirits who had been freed would be milling about, mourning the loss of a small, insignificant existence that had disappeared from the world without so much as leaving a blemish—proof that it once existed.

Even now, it was still alone in the silence.