Yarin's POV:
Lowering my head, I saw that I was holding a blood-dripping whip. The whip was woven from thorns covered in barbs, even the handle had no treatnt on it, and the sharp thorns had long since bloodied my palms, but I couldn't feel any pain at all, I just swung my hand and felt the soughing sound brought about by the whip's breaking wind in the air.
Raising my head, there was a person kneeling right in front of . That person's back to . It wasn't clear if that person was a man or woman, old or young. The back was covered in blood and pieces of flesh. The skin was wrinkled and flesh filled with many thorns. I believe it was from the whip in my hand.
The blood and flesh did not disgust , nor did the kneeling person make squirm. I even felt a sense of boredom, for the man before was too timid and weak to entertain .
My whip was still ready to go, but the toy was broken.
"What a bore!" I thought to myself. "How can one man be enough? Let's have a few more, preferably the whole world here, and let have all the fun I can handle."
As soon as I thought that, a dense crowd of people suddenly appeared in front of , so facing and so with their backs to , n and won, old and young, so cowering and shivering, so glaring at .
So many new toys!
I swung the whip happily. The first one was dead; it was ti to pick the next toy. The whip struck an angry old man one ti and a crying child the next.
Would the wailing upset ? It seed like it would, but I didn't rember much about it now, except that each cry of pain and scream was so pleasing to the ear.
I was the master of these toys, I was above them, in control of their joys and sorrows and lives and deaths. I had to torture them and then properly store them away to display as my trophies for the next batch of brand-new toys.
The toys scread or pleaded, every resistance easily deflected by the thorn-covered whip, so that in the end there was nothing left but cringing submission and humble patience.
Behold, I had complete control over them!
I was the master of all, had supre authority, and would tornt the world!
"Hey! What are you talking about in your sleep!"
There was a sudden roar in my ears, and my eyes snapped open to the crystal chandelier streaming from the ceiling.
Cynthia was lying beside looking at suspiciously, asking, "What were you dreaming about? Muttering so fervently."
A dream?
Yes, I did seem to have a dream, and what did I do in the dream?
... I couldn't recall much, except that I seed to have a whip in my hand.
"Nothing, probably a nightmare, can't rember much about it anymore." I shook my head and sat up, the sun was shining outside the window.
Everyone had woken up, Cynthia had taken Autumn and Lydia to her room to wash up while Heller and I each went to clean up our ssy selves.
Turning off the faucet and looking at my reflection in the mirror, I drifted off and felt a pang of strangeness.
Was that person ?
Even with the sa eyes, nose, and mouth, was that person who looked exactly like , ?
I seed to have so recollection of what that dream was about, holding my hand a whip to whip the crowd, but why did I do that? Or was that just a disorganized and pointless episode of the dream?
The pool was empty, and it was as if I could still see the stacks of dying moths.
Cracks...
Did that really have no effect on ?
Heller's call ca from outside, and I rubbed my face and turned away without another thought.
In the morning after a frightening night like that, no one had much energy and ate breakfast without a word. Lydia's face was a bit pale, and her eyes were red and swollen. Cynthia said that she would take her to put so ointnt on them to reduce the swelling, or else her red eyes might develop allergies or other symptoms.
Before leaving, Lydia bowed deeply to us to thank us. We were startled and hurriedly helped her up.
"It's what we should do, we saw it, so it's incumbent upon us," I said.
Eden and Autumn accompanied Lydia back to school, she had only taken one night out and had to get back to her dorm in ti to cancel her absence or the school would notify her aunt.
After everything was over, we slumped onto the couch, and I said breathlessly, "I don't know why, but I feel so tired today..."
"Maybe it's because of last night," Heller said, his voice muffled, as he buried his head in his pillows.
The black wolf paced over and lay beside us, swiping our ankles with his big fluffy tail as if it were a comfort.
"Speaking of which, how do you think that man will be punished?" Heller asked.
"Definitely a prison sentence I'm sure, preferably locked up for the rest of his life and never coming out," I said.
"But isn't he human? Won't his country protest?"
This ti it was Cynthia who answered him, "Even as a human being, he's a disgusting pedophile. If the man had committed a cri like robbery or burglary, his country might offer extradition, but attempted rape of a minor? Jesus, that's the kind of cri you'd be ashad to even talk about, and the country that stood up for a pedophile would not be respected for the next hundred years."
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