Eventually, I was left alone. Aiko had gone off to her room to sleep, leaving sitting there in silence, the echo of her footsteps fading into the distance. For a while, I just sat still, staring at the empty hallway, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. My head was spinning—pain blooming behind my eyes, crawling down the back of my skull until every breath I took felt heavier than the last.
I needed air. Real air.
So I walked out of the castle, letting the cold night swallow whole. The wind outside was sharp, biting against my skin, but sohow it felt cleaner than anything I'd breathed in a long ti. I didn't stop walking; I climbed higher, scaling staircases and crumbling battlents until I finally reached the top of the castle.
And then… I saw it.
The view stretched out before like sothing from another world—because, I suppose, it was. A massive city sprawled beneath , its edges surrounded by towering black walls that rose like jagged teeth into the sky. Beyond those walls, there was nothing—just the endless ocean of black, a void so deep and still that it made the air itself feel heavy. Yet even within that darkness, one structure pierced the horizon: the Crimson Spire.
It was colossal—so tall that for a mont, I truly believed it could reach the sun. Its surface shimred faintly, reflecting the bleeding light of the moon, and it radiated sothing that felt ancient and hungry.
For all the horrors that existed in the Dream Realm, there was still sothing strangely beautiful about it. The air was clean here, untouched. In the real world—even living in the wealthiest districts of NQSC—everything slled artificial. Purified. Filtered. Manufactured. But this air… this air was real. It was raw and cold and alive.
I let it fill my lungs, let it sting against my throat, and for a fleeting mont, it almost felt like peace.
The city below was silent, bathed in pale moonlight. There was sothing eerie about the stillness—streets empty, windows dark, as though the entire place was holding its breath. And yet… it was beautiful. Beautiful in a haunted, tragic way.
Honestly, if not for the nightmare creatures lurking just beyond those walls, I could almost imagine living here. Then again, without them, I'd have to drink human blood to survive—and that thought alone shattered whatever fragile fantasy I'd built in my head.
I stayed there for a while, just standing at the edge of the rooftop, letting the cold seep into my bones. The air numbed my fingers, my face, even my thoughts. For the first ti in what felt like forever, my mind was quiet.
Until the moon began to bleed.
At first, it was just a faint red haze. Then it deepened, thickened, dripping across the sky until rivers of crimson light poured down over the city. I stared in silence as the bloodlight swallowed the streets, flooding alleys, rising higher until the entire city seed to drown beneath it.
And then it reached .
The world tilted. I couldn't breathe. My chest tightened as if invisible hands were pulling under. I tried to move, to fight it, but everything went red—everything drowned in that impossible, suffocating color.
And then… a touch.
A hand gently brushing through my hair, a soft, cold caress against my temple. I blinked, gasping, and when my vision cleared, I was back. I was lying down, my head resting on soone's lap.
Seishan's lap.
Her fingers traced slow, careful circles through my hair as she looked down at . In the moonlight, she was almost ethereal—her grey skin catching the faint light, her red velvet dress dark as spilled wine. Beautiful. So beautiful it hurt to look at her. But her blood… gods, her blood was wrong.
Even without focusing, I could feel it—thick, distorted, sickly. Every instinct in scread to turn away, to stop sensing it, but I couldn't. Not anymore.
After everything that had happened—with Aiko, with that kiss, with the chaos that had followed—I was numb. Empty. And maybe that was why I didn't move when Seishan spoke.
"You know," she said softly, a teasing lilt in her voice, "you shouldn't run away and hide on a roof right after giving soone a love letter."
I sighed internally. My mind was a fog, and her words barely sank in. I wasn't listening. Not really. My focus was on her pulse—the rhythm of it, the alien flow that set my teeth on edge.
She tilted her head, studying . "I've thought about your confession," she continued. "And… I guess I wouldn't mind dating you."
Her long black hair fell forward, forming a curtain between us as she leaned down. Her lips t mine—cold, soft, deliberate.
For a heartbeat, I did nothing. Then everything inside clicked.
Sothing was wrong. Terribly wrong.
My instincts roared to life, and I activated my ability. The world around shifted, colors fading into translucent layers as I looked through her—through flesh, through veins, through every secret her body held.
What I saw made smile. Not the smile of joy, or love, but sothing darker.
Her blood wasn't hers. It didn't flow naturally—it twisted and looped like a mockery of life, as though sothing had forced it to move, to mimic humanity. It was imitation. A puppet's pulse.
And suddenly, everything made sense.
A laugh escaped my throat—quiet at first, then louder, rougher, almost manic. I kissed her back, hard, until her legs trembled beneath . She broke away, breathless, eyes wide with confusion.
I stood.
With a single motion, I slit my wrist open, feeling the warm rush of my own blood spill out. It didn't hurt. Pain had long since beco familiar—almost comforting. I shaped that blood into a weapon, forming a crimson arrow that solidified and hardened as I loaded it into my crossbow.
I looked down at her, still smiling.
"Thanks, Seishan," I said quietly, my voice steady, almost calm. "I'll be sure to thank the real you too… when I get out of here."
Her expression twisted—fear, anger, or maybe confusion—but I didn't let her speak.
I turned the crossbow, pressing it against my own forehead. The blood arrow glimred faintly under the bleeding moonlight, the sa color as everything else in this damned world.
And then I pulled the trigger.
Reviews
All reviews (0)