Chapter 27. Interrogation.

The girl sprinted through the woods as it burned brighter and brighter by the second, heading towards the True Cross campus on lightning feet, tripping over roots and getting smacked in the face by branches as she went. There was no one around, no one to answer her calls as she screamed at the top of her lungs in a panic. She had no idea what had become of her fellow classmates, or her two teachers; she had one order, to get to safety, and the forest around her was not safe. Somewhere out there, the demon king was probably still alive and well, burning the forest and every living creature in it. It was possible that he had massacred every one of her friends already, and the fire raged with anger and hate as it spread out across the vegetation, dried out from the long summer.

Why did she want to do this? Why did she want to become an exorcist? To feel validated in the existence of demons? She had seen the faces of them now. Of the hobgoblin, of Fenrir, of the King of Earth. These creatures were nothing to fool around with; she could have been killed herself. So then why, she asked herself, why did she freeze up when the behemoth lunged at her? Why couldn't she attack? Was she hoping that it would injure her enough to give her the power to see all demons, out of some false hope that not every demon was as terrifying as those she had been cursed to interact with? Or was she hoping, deep down somewhere, that it would end her?

She wiped away the tears that welled up in her eyes as she ran, feeling more alone than she had ever felt in her entire life. There was an empty pit in her, as if all the childish hopes and dreams she had ever had as a young girl were ripped out by the sharp, black nails of a demon. They were ripped out and devoured, and she was cast aside like nothing; and that's all she or any human were to demons like this – nothing. How could she have been so foolish, she wondered, thinking back to what she had told Johann on that walk through the woods. He told her that her views were beautiful, but in this moment, as the pitter-patter of her feet became lost in the crackling roar of the fire which burned hot on her heels, she knew that she indeed was naive.

The street lights shined through the gaps in the tree trunks like the gates to heaven, and she wept as the branches ripped through her flesh on her way to freedom. Her feet continued to carry her across the pavement as fast as they could, until the fear of death gave way to the overwhelming feeling of guilt and mourning. She scraped her knees as she fell, collapsing into her hands as she sobbed. She has escaped the fire, but would she ever, truly be free from this? From whatever plagued her since she was a child?

The knocking of boots on the pavement caused her to look up, and she wiped her eyes clean as she beheld two exorcists coming for her. She sniffled for a moment, only to burst into tears once again as they approached. One squatted down to the ground by her, and brushed the soot from her forehead, handing her a handkerchief.

"It's okay, exwire, we're here for you."

"B-but my friends," she blubbered, hiding her face under the fabric.

"They're safe." The tears suddenly stopped pouring and her eyes grew wide at this news. "Come on now," he said as he stood, helping her to her own feet.

The other man pulled out a gold key while they walked over to a shed on the side of the street. "We have orders to bring you in for questioning," he said sternly as he opened the door to a great room.

She was led through a large hallway and then plopped down onto a chair in a small room, where the door creaked as it shut and locked as they left. It was empty, besides the chair she sat in, and a wooden table that was in front of her; another chair sat on the other side, just opposite to her. There were no clocks to give her an idea of how much time had passed, but the exhaustion from the night had finally swept over her body, claiming her.

The sound of the door opening once more woke her from the light sleep, and she pulled her head up from the wooden table to see three men enter the room – two of them, the exorcists which had delivered her, and another who she had never seen before. The two middle class exorcists stood at each side of the empty chair as the new man hobbled his way into the room. The chair made a godawful noise as it skidded across the stone floor, and he sat down carefully. He thumbed through the papers on his clipboard for a while, sitting in silence.

He was an elderly man with a large belly, who bore the ring of the Vatican on his shriveled finger. Finally, he looked up to the girl, adjusting his glasses and letting out a labored sigh. "I'm Upper First Class exorcist, Eraldo Amantini. I would like to ask you a few questions, is that alright?"

She gave one nod. Why an Upper First Class exorcist, she wondered.

"Do you need anything? Water, perhaps?"

"That would be fine, thank you."

He nodded to one of the middle class exorcists, the loose skin of his neck jiggling with the motion. The man quietly left the room, and Amantini continued. "What do you remember of the events that took place, on this day?"

"Um, well," she started hesitantly, blinking. "We, our cram school class that is, went out to the forest district for a test—"

"Forest district? Of true cross academy?" he asked, looking up from his spectacles. After a nod from her, he began writing something down on the piece of paper. "Go on."

"Well, we went there for a test, to see who would be able to go on to combat missions, and then a demon attacked us."

"The demon being who, exactly?"

"Ms. Kirigakure said it was Amaimon, King of Earth," she answered matter-of-factly, folding her hands in her lap.

He scribbled more on the paper. "Describe him to me."

She cleared her throat. "H-he had green hair that came to a point on his head. And wore strange clothing—like a tattered jacket and arm warmers. He had blue eyes, which shined kind of gold in some lighting," she spoke as she remembered the times the demon had come to her. The sounds of the pen on paper stopped. "And he was probably under five-foot-ten, I'd say."

Amantini studied her face before he spoke. "Have you seen this demon before today?"

Freezing, she realized her mistake. How could she have noticed some of those features in the midst of an attack!? She tried to hide her faulting voice as she spoke. "N-no, sir. I have not."

His pupils stayed on her for a while as she attempted to keep a straight, relaxed face. "Have you received your temptaint yet?"

She was a bit shocked for this question to be asked. "N-no sir, I have not," she repeated, studying the man before her. What was he getting at, she wondered.

Amantini leaned back in his chair. "Tell me of your relationship with the True Cross director, Honorary Knight Johann Faust V," he finally said, picking over each word carefully while he eyed her under bagged lids.

She could feel her face begin to turn red, and her heartbeat quickened. Did they know something? "H-he's my principal, and an acquaintance," she stammered, glancing down at the table. The middle class exorcist entered the room and set a glass of water on the table, which she graciously took a drink of, realizing just how thirsty she was after running for her life.

"But the two of you spend much time together, do you not?" he asked, tapping his pen on his knee. He watched the girl as she drank half of the glass, and smiled when she set it back down. She nodded slowly. "Has he ever confided in you, ever told you any...secrets?"

"I—I don't understand, sir," she snapped, perplexed.

Amantini sat forward, folding his fat, wrinkled fingers together onto the table. "Has he ever told you anything which might seem important for the Order to know?"

"Answer him, girl!" the stern exorcist demanded.

"This is important that you tell us—Faust is currently being questioned by the Vatican for treason," came the voice of the exorcist who handed her the handkerchief.

Her eyes grew wide. "Treason?! What are you—what has he done?!" she asked hastily, her gaze bouncing from one man's face to the other, worried about her director. Surely there was a mistake.

"You can't ask questions here, only answer them," one of the exorcists grumbled as he slammed his hands on the desk. "Answer your Senior immediately."

Her gaze moved back to Amantini, who was still staring deep into her. She cleared her throat, trying to regain composure. These men could be asking any questions, and they chose to ask about some strange secrets? The only thing secret was Amaimon, and the nature of her and Faust's interactions, which had bloomed into something no less than romantic. She spoke clearly. "No sir. Not that I am aware of."