But whenever that happened, Elysia would only grin and change the subject, slipping a tiny star-shaped hard candy through the remaining gap as she said, "Sorry for making you mad~ This is my apology~" and promised, "I'm really amazing! Nothing will happen~"
Once she said that, you couldn't bring yourself to scold her further. The sweetness of the candy soothed your mood, and you knew she really was amazing. The Priest had been growing more and more restless lately. He had clearly used some kind of method, only for Elysia to block it every time. Perhaps those above him had also been pressuring him.
By the end, you even suspected the Priest was preparing to kidnap her outright. That might not have fit his usual methods, but it certainly would have fulfilled the demands of those above... Still, you never found out whether he had actually tried it, because Elysia continued coming by every afternoon to chat with you.
Ah... For some reason, just thinking of the Priest's agitated expression made you feel much better. Even the torment at night did not seem quite as painful anymore.
You had it coming!—you thought.
Without realizing it, your fondness for Elysia had grown. As time passed, you became increasingly aware of just how amazing she was. Sometimes, you even imagined that she might save you—though you felt that such a thought was absurd.
You had become somewhat more "cheerful" than before, even if those feelings were directed solely toward Elysia. The time you spent talking with her each day was what you treasured most. Though most of the time, she spoke while you listened.
Elysia also seemed to have an endless supply of things to say, and from time to time, she brought you little sweets. Her reason was, "No one can refuse something sweet!" You cherished those tiny gifts, both for their practical meaning and their emotional significance.
Without even noticing it yourself, you had come to see Elysia as your pillar, your hope. A pillar supporting the belief that you would surely be saved; a hope that you could regain your freedom.
Like a drowning man clutching at a straw, you wanted to hold tightly to her, hoping she would "save" you.
Today, as usual, you waited for Elysia's arrival. Though you did not show it, your heart was full of anticipation. Even if you suffered every night, even if you could not leave this prison, at least when you talked with her, you were free. Through her descriptions, you could imagine the scenery of places all around the world.
Without realizing it, she had changed you greatly.
But as the sky gradually darkened, as night fell, as the Priest pushed open the door, as the pitch-black midnight arrived, as dawn's light came, and as the sunlight through the window crack dimmed once more, Elysia still did not come.
Your feelings shifted from anticipation, to anxiety, to irritation, and finally to silence. The faint hope in your eyes gradually returned to their former stillness, calm as stagnant water.
Maybe she had left. If so, that would be for the best—leaving this awful place.
Maybe she had been caught. That would be the worst ending possible: another child trapped here.
You prayed that she had left rather than been caught, and slowly let go of the expectations you should never have held in the first place.
So be it—you thought. It was nothing more than returning to how things had been before. Besides, her arrival had made things easier for you, if only because she always brought you little candies, and you had secretly saved quite a few.
That night, the Priest came as usual. He seemed to have encountered something pleasant, making his movements slower and more elegant—though that only made the pain he inflicted on you last longer.
You had no interest in it. If anything, you felt more at ease—your sense of "pain" had already dulled.
Another round of torture ended. The Priest sat to one side to rest as he watched you, once again tortured until you were covered in blood. Your hands were bound and suspended in midair, with a rope around your neck as well. Lowering your head even slightly brought the strange pressure of the rope crushing your airway. You could only stand on tiptoe atop a stool missing one leg to keep yourself supported, preventing the rope around your neck from strangling you to death. Bright red blood ran down from your hanging hands, gathering more and more as it flowed, speeding up before finally dripping into the basin below.
The sight always reminded people of livestock being bled in butcher shops.
"Truly surprising. You've managed to endure for this long." His eyes were filled with admiration as he looked at you.
"As expected, you're a wonderful child." What followed was a gaze full of aggression, but it soon softened again. Perhaps he felt that continuing would make you bleed to death. He took out a medical kit and began stopping the bleeding and bandaging your wounds.
"Don't worry, I won't do anything to you." His tone had grown gentle as well. "After all, we have plenty of time."
You knew it. He was waiting for you to beg him, to voluntarily make that "awful request," to submit to him.
He was not in a hurry. He had plenty of time. Like a cat playing with a mouse, he could toy with you slowly.
If it had been the old you, you might have nodded and agreed. You had already had enough of all this.
But after spending time with Elysia, you felt that you could endure a little longer. Or rather, that you should continue enduring.
Just hold on a little longer, just a little while longer... You would be saved eventually.
Wait, and keep hope in your heart.
"Come to think of it, you seemed to enjoy chatting with that girl before, didn't you?" the Priest suddenly said. "I'm glad you made a new friend."
Sensing your body suddenly stiffen, the Priest smiled in satisfaction. After bandaging the wounds on your body that were still bleeding, he gave the rope a somewhat rough tug, dragging you into a corner of the room before hanging the rope from a hook high above.
"But unfortunately, you probably won't be seeing her again." He leisurely returned to his original spot. Looking at you, too weak to move from hunger and blood loss, he spoke softly, with undisguised amusement in his voice.
"As you know, someone above wants her... Hmm, that child was clever. She never gave me an opportunity to catch her, and instead caused me quite a bit of trouble. On top of that, those above have been pressing me urgently, which has been rather troublesome." He sighed, then looked at you, meeting the gaze of you as you struggled to lift your head. "Of course, I understand the greed of those people above. They are always like that. Whenever they see something they like, they rush to obtain it, so they are always coming to urge me... Of course, that isn't what troubles me."
"What troubles me is that the child was trying to take away what belongs to me... That makes me rather unhappy." He spoke slowly, leaning back and reaching into the torn mattress to rummage around. Soon, he pulled a few candies from the dark red stuffing.
"So I've grown a little tired of it." He glanced at you as you began struggling. Watching the ripples rise in your pupils, he smiled in satisfaction, then slowly unwrapped the candies one by one and placed them in his palm.
His movements were slow, as though he deliberately wanted you to see every single thing he did. In the end, he held all the unwrapped candies in his palm, then opened his hand to show you, as if displaying his achievement.
"So I decided to use a somewhat quicker method to resolve this matter... Of course, I prefer to call it efficiency." Seeing you use all your strength to move toward him, seeing the rope pulled taut, seeing you refuse to stop approaching him even as the rope strangled you to the point of suffocation, he smiled with satisfaction.
"After all, dealing with one person is far simpler than dealing with a pile of matters caused by that person." Smiling, he stuffed all the candies in his hand into his mouth. With exaggerated movements, he chewed twice so that you could hear the crisp crunch, then swallowed them directly. He even deliberately opened his mouth afterward, proving to you that he had truly eaten every last one.
You did not know what you were supposed to do. You did not know how to think. When you heard news of her, when the candy she had left behind was crushed and eaten right before your eyes, something in your understanding of the world—something you had only just managed to pick up again, something you had only just decided to keep holding onto—shattered. Along with those candies, it was crushed beneath his teeth.
"Hahaha—do you know, child? You right now! Only you right now are what satisfies me the most!" As though he had finally seen what he had been waiting for, he laughed excitedly. He approached again, pinched your cheek, and said in a gentle voice, "All right, child~ Stop hoping someone will take you away from here, okay? Be a good child, an obedient child."
Looking at you, completely unresponsive as though dead, he narrowed his eyes. He leaned close and spoke to you in that gentle voice. "I hope you understand one thing: you belong here. You belong—to me."
"What is so bad about this place? You know, you never needed to suffer this torment. You could have played outside like the other children. You would not have had to suffer from hunger. I could even provide you with better food and treatment, because you are so obedient, so lovable."
His voice was soft, and because he had just eaten candy, his words carried a faint sweetness.
But he did not know that this behavior was only dancing more fervently across your minefield—or perhaps he did?
"...Fine. It seems negotiations have failed. I had wanted to use a gentler method, but it appears punishment will be better after all." Seeing that you did not move, he seemed to give up trying to tempt you further. "After all, you're a bad child~"
Bang! Accompanied by a dull impact and tremendous force, he was slammed into the corner in shock and confusion. The back of his head struck the wall, and he could only lose consciousness in a daze.
Before his vision fell into darkness, all he saw were your eyes filled with gold. Pupils once like water, like the night sky, had long been consumed by anger and hatred. That mad gaze left him bewildered.
You knew nothing of any of this. You did not know what state you were in, why your body suddenly had strength, or why you could suddenly rip the ropes apart. You did not care about these abnormalities. You only wanted to take back what was yours—the thing taken from you, crushed beneath his teeth, the thing she had given you.
You picked up the small knife that had cut into your body countless times, plunged it into his throat, and sliced it open vertically.
Perhaps the intense pain woke him, or perhaps his body's instinct for survival took over. His body began thrashing unconsciously. He tried to cover the cut wound with his hand to stop the blood, to twist away from danger, to kick away the threat pressing down on him.
His actions obstructed you and made you irritated, so without hesitation, you pierced the joints of his limbs, leaving them dangling limply. You knew very well how to make someone lose feeling in their limbs. After all, you had experienced it yourself.
You cut open his body, tore out the organs and flesh, and casually tossed them onto the ground. Following his throat, tracing down his esophagus, you removed and cut open his stomach. Stomach acid and undigested food mixed with blood as they spilled out, carrying a pungent stench that made one nauseous.
But you did not care. You only searched carefully, cautiously, through that pile of mosaic-like matter. In the end, you found what you were looking for among the half-digested remains.
You carefully removed the candy, washed it with the blood pouring from his body, then stuffed it into your mouth, as though afraid someone else might take it away again.
You searched very thoroughly. You even cut open his esophagus to search through it, all to make sure you missed as little as possible. It made his corpse even more horrifying and grotesque—but you did not care. You did not care at all.
After placing the final fragment of candy you could find into your mouth, you finally let out a breath of relief. Leaning against the corner of the wall, you peacefully closed your eyes. All kinds of strange odors and the stench of blood spread through your mouth, but the tiny, faint sweetness was not obscured. It reached straight into your heart, lifting the corners of your lips into a slight curve.
That night, there was no more pain in your dreams. Only that sweetness lingered.
The Planned Judgment Could Not Be Changed
The next day, you were awakened by a nun's scream. Apparently, your killing of the Priest had been discovered. The police would probably come to arrest you soon.
You had no intention of running away. In your understanding, regardless of the reason, "killing someone" was ultimately a bad thing. It was wrong, and you deserved punishment. On top of that, you had made the Priest's corpse extremely horrifying, with nearly all of his organs pulled out. Something so vile would certainly earn you the harshest punishment. Maybe it would even make the news, considering the Priest seemed to have had a rather good reputation outside.
But you did not care. If anything, you hoped more people would learn of it. That way, the darkness hidden here, unnoticed by others, would be seen by everyone.
But in the end... you had still become a "bad child." Realizing this made you feel somewhat dejected, somewhat worried that Elysia might change her opinion of you because of it.
Soon, you heard the sound of police sirens. You saw the officers again. Their eyes held a mixture of surprise and understanding when they looked at you, while their eyes held shock and barely concealed satisfaction when they looked at the Priest's corpse.
They were surprised that a child like you could commit such a frenzied act, but they also believed that the Priest had truly deserved such an end.
You were taken away, and the case was quickly settled—as expected. After all, the witnesses and evidence were conclusive, and even you had confessed.
Although many abnormalities remained at the scene, such as that basin of blood that did not belong to the Priest, and the obvious rope marks and wounds on your body—no one seemed to care about any of them. From your arrest, to your detention, to the final trial, no one cared throughout the entire process.
You met the chief of the Police Station, and you told him about the problems in the church. You did not ask him to defend you. You only asked him to help the other children.
But he merely looked at you in surprise, then acted as if he had not heard anything. He casually asked procedural questions, and the pen recording them never stopped moving, as though he had long since decided what he would write. Your answers did not matter.
You realized that the chief before you was probably no longer the "stubborn chief who loved meddling in others' business" the officers had spoken of before.
You also raised objections during the trial, but it was useless. No one paid attention to you. They simply continued carrying out what seemed to have been decided long ago.
Of course, one thing you had hoped for did happen: the incident of you killing the Priest was reported and caused quite a stir and attracted much attention—though not in the way you wanted.
You learned the contents of the report from the officers. In general, it described you as an ungrateful child with a vile nature, expressed regret and indignation that the Priest had met such an end, and called for the harshest punishment to be imposed on a child as vicious as you.
At the end, it also briefly mentioned the church, saying that it was already struggling financially, and that things would likely become even more difficult after the Priest's death. It hoped that kindhearted people would donate more... Something along those lines.
In short, it described what an exceptionally good person the Priest had been in life, what an exceptionally vile child you were by nature, how you would likely never become a good person even after growing up, and then used the opportunity to call upon people to donate money to the church.
You did not understand. Instinctively, you felt that even if a child your age committed a crime, it should have been handled discreetly. At the very least, it should not have appeared so openly in the news... Perhaps it was because the nature of the crime was too vile?
But you no longer cared about such things.
You gave up.
If nothing unexpected happened, you would spend the rest of your life in a real prison.
So be it—you thought.
But then, you saw her again.
The girl named Elysia. This was your first official meeting—though the setting was not quite right, you were both still very happy.
Just as she had said herself, she was a very cute girl.
She told you that the Priest had indeed planned to make a move against her, but she was amazing, so she had avoided it. She had not come afterward partly because the Priest had arranged for people to search for her outside, and partly because she had found someone she could trust.
In truth, on the night you killed the Priest, she had sensed something. She had once again detected the presence of a "kindred spirit." It had been very faint, but it was like the illusion she had felt when she first met you. So she had vaguely guessed that something had happened to you, and had rushed over as fast as she could—but she did not tell you any of this.
Because she had arrived too late. Whether it was because of an accident or because someone had deliberately obstructed her, everything was already too late. Saying it now would only make it seem as though she were making excuses.
She introduced you to the person who had come with her—or rather, the person who had brought her in—someone she believed could be trusted: a Priest.
To be honest, the moment you saw him, the hatred and madness that had only just faded nearly gathered again. As though suffering from PTSD, your entire body tensed as you watched the Priest warily.
If he had not been someone Elysia brought, if you had not known that you could not hurt someone based on groundless suspicions... you might have lunged at him and tried to kill him outright.
But fortunately, you did not. You knew clearly that the person before you was different from the dead Priest. Even though you now held intense suspicion toward everyone bearing that title, you still endured it.
This Priest called himself Enrique. He was quite renowned both within the church and throughout the world, a true and devout Priest. He had been traveling around the world to gain experience while also inspecting churches in various places. He had only come here to see how the church was doing, since no one from the church had visited this place for a long time, and the Priest here had always claimed that everything was well.
But along the way, he happened to meet Elysia and happened to hear her plea for help.
At first, he had not fully believed what Elysia said. That Priest had a good reputation and was well liked nearby. After learning that he had died in such a miserable manner, Enrique had also felt heartache and regret, and had instinctively made a judgment about your nature—without doubt, a bad one.
But when he saw your seemingly instinctive wariness and the hatred you forcibly suppressed in your eyes, the balance in his heart shifted slightly.
He decided to investigate the truth of the matter and began asking you what had really happened. He promised that if there truly was another side to the story, he was willing to clear your name.
You did not care much about whether your name could be cleared. After witnessing that trial process where everything had already been arranged, you did not believe Father Enrique had the ability to fight against it. You only hoped he could take the other children away from that place.
Relying on your excellent memory, you told Father Enrique in detail everything you knew about the church, but you did not say a single word about yourself.
Though Elysia pressed you for answers in the end and you casually mentioned a few things, you only glossed over them without saying much.
Before you continue