THGA 07

Chapter 07

Even though he had held her hand, Rachel was still smiling. Meanwhile, Grand Duchess Crochet, who stood beside them, showed signs of discomfort even though no one held her hand.
Thinking back on that, a sudden thought came to him: Rachel’s smile must be fake too. He wanted to taint that innocent-seeming smile. If she truly didn’t know what ugliness was, what would happen if he showed her the darker side of the world?

Would you still smile at me the same way, even then?

The thought amused him. He was someone born covered in filth, a more vicious human than the bottom of a sewer. He felt no hesitation or guilt in corrupting her—that had never changed, not then, not now.

Then, what about the Rachel of today?

A smirk curved Sren’s lips. Thinking of her absence, he slowly drained the glass in his hand. As his throat was moistened, his thirst for her burned even hotter.

“Haah…”

A bitter taste lingered on his tongue, gradually giving way to the intoxicating aroma. Not that it would truly make him drunk or stir any real emotion—but as he savored the red wine, Sren spoke quietly to the one beside him.

“Phantom. What is Rachel doing right now?”
“She’s acting as you predicted, Sren. Shall I control the path immediately?”

A dangerous glint of a smile crossed Sren’s lips. He then asked with an innocent expression:

“Why?”
“She is in danger if things continue like this.”

But Sren’s reply came without difficulty.

“That wouldn’t be bad. She needs to know she can never survive without me.”
“…But—”

A troubled look flashed in Phantom’s eyes. Seeing him, Sren answered with a crescent-shaped smile.

“Besides, she’s not really going to die. Not yet, anyway.”

Phantom fell silent at those words, and Sren, seemingly pleased with the quiet, picked up a fork and knife. He cut the meat before him. Crimson juices gushed out, blood dripping as he brought the meat to his mouth.

Sren closed his eyes and let out a brief moan, savoring the meat like pleasure. Once he swallowed the tender, melting meat, he opened his eyes again and spoke with a cold expression.

“It wouldn’t be fun if a toy slipped out of the game, would it?”

Phantom gave a bitter smile, as if already guessing what cruel trick he would play. Sren met his gaze and said firmly:

“Release it.”
“The prisoner, you mean?”
“Exactly. Behemoth will need a tasty snack. If Rachel sees it… even better, right?”

As expected. A truly cruel master. Phantom, however, simply smiled, not intending to stop him.

“Understood, Master.”

The eerie hallway grew more dreadful with every step. Was it the cold sensation? Goosebumps rose, and a chill ran through the body.

“Strange…”

A doubt that had been nagging since earlier. Though the only sound in the hall was my own footsteps, I felt as if someone else were present. Yet when I stopped and turned, there was no one.

Looking forward again, the hallway had changed. A door now appeared where there had been none.

“Did I come out for nothing?”

It would have been better to stay in that room—at least Sren might have come there. Slightly regretting it, I pressed on. The wall lamps flickered as I walked. Startled, I stopped again, my foot still mid-step.

Clack—! Another shoe echoed, matching the sound of my own steps. As I gently set my foot down, the noise sounded again. I froze in place.

A chilling sensation pierced my chest. My head was drawn back, and what appeared before my eyes was…

A woman in a white wedding dress, her long hair loose. Her pupils seemed vacant, her tongue hanging to the floor, blood trickling from her mouth. Her nails were like a beast’s, long and caked with dried blood.

Most disturbing was the strong smell of blood. I swallowed hard. She looked directly at me and muttered, grinning grotesquely:

“You can’t escape anywhere. Being alone is lonely… play with me.”

A high-pitched, catlike screech, splitting into multiple harmonics like acapella. My eardrums threatened to burst; I had to cover my ears tightly.

“Ha… ugh!”

Goosebumps crawled across me. Still, she didn’t move from her place. She probably couldn’t see. The earlier eye contact must have been accidental.

What kind of insane game is this? I only needed to avoid Sren!

I panicked. That grotesque creature was right behind me, dangerously close. My heart pounded like a drum. She flailed her long arms, seemingly searching for me.

I felt like I would be caught. But what should I do? If I ran, she’d notice. She couldn’t see, but seemed sensitive to sound. Then I realized something: her face was familiar.

Where have I seen it? Something about it… is familiar.

But that thought vanished as she moved closer. The hallway was narrow, her arms unusually long. I might get caught. Every time she licked, her teeth—long and sharp—glimmered.

What should I do? If I move, I’ll be caught.

As I neared her, panic rose. I decided to run. But then—

Clang, clang—!

Damn! She had handcuffed me!

Startled, I sped up. The chains pulled tight. My steps tangled, and I fell to the floor.

“Ah…!”

Dizzy, scraped, aching. Worse, the voice from behind suffocated me.

“Found you.”

A grotesque laugh, then my foot wrapped in something slippery.

“Ugh!”

Dragged helplessly, I scratched the floor with my nails, but it was useless.

Was I really going to die? Maybe it was better that way. After all, I had no idea what had become of Adenhar. Yeah, starting over might be best.

As I gave up, a familiar voice came:

“Rachel. Close your eyes.”

A calming, gentle voice. It was Adenhar. How he appeared here didn’t matter. I quickly shut my eyes as he instructed.

Bang, bang, bang—

Gunshots rang out in the quiet.

“Kyaaaah!”

The woman screamed, grotesquely. I had to cover my ears again. Simultaneously, the tight chains on my legs loosened. Adenhar had freed me.

I opened my eyes. Adenhar fought the bloodied woman, her hair, tongue, hands, and feet stretching to grab him. Swiftly, he countered, holding a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other.

Adenhar was formidable. His movements were precise, sharp, and elegant. I gasped, and he smiled at me, whispering:

“Don’t watch. It’s not over yet.”

He covered me with his jacket, shielding me from the brutal sight. The familiar scent of Adenhar lingered.

It wasn’t necessary— I had already seen enough cruelty.

Then, the tearing of raw flesh echoed. Something thudded to the floor. Adenhar’s polite voice reached my ears.

“My apologies, Grand Duchess.”

Only then did I recognize her. That eerie familiarity—she was the woman from the portrait in the hallway. In other words, she was the mansion’s owner: Grand Duchess Crochet.

But why had the Grand Duchess become such a monster? Hadn’t Sren killed her?