Chapter 46. Secret Game (15)
Manson calling her—Lillin hated it more than anything. Whenever he said, “Come closer,” she wanted to run away.
But you can’t escape from a monster’s grip, Lillin thought. If I run carelessly, something terrible might happen. I know the monster that well. When you live under the same roof, even mice and humans eventually learn how to communicate.
—Stand there.
Lillin stopped exactly where Manson had told her to.
To avoid being struck by his terrifying, loaf-of-bread-sized fists, she had to instinctively understand and follow the rules he set. One of those rules was to never take a single step from the spot where Manson said “stand.”
Manson kept her standing in place for a while, silently staring. He slowly scanned her from head to toe with his bulging eyes.
Her hair, the red circular marks often left on her forehead from leaning on the window, her small nose and eyes and cheeks and neck, and her thin, deer-like arms and legs.
—Dad!
When Manson suddenly grabbed Lillin roughly, her uncombed hair swung with the motion.
Terrified, Lillin kicked frantically at his legs as if to resist. But just like with her mother, he didn’t even flinch. It was like kicking a tree stump—her feet only hurt more.
—Don’t do this, Dad!
—Shut up. If you don’t stay still, you might lose an ear.
An ear? Just an ear? Maybe my whole neck will get cut off. Lillin thought.
She caught a glint of scissor blades flash in her fear-clouded vision. His drunk-like, sour expression—though Manson always looked like that—was now filled with rage, disgust, loathing, and greed.
—Don’t!
She screamed sharply as her body slammed to the ground. Something sparked in her vision when her shoulder hit wrong, and her arm wouldn’t move properly.
Groaning, Lillin realized something thin was falling slowly over her body and face. As she opened her eyes through the pain, she screamed.
It was her own hair.
—Girls like you shouldn’t exist.
Manson growled through clenched teeth, but Lillin couldn’t hear him anymore.
The shock of having half her hair crudely chopped off left her breathless. More than anything, she was terrified of what her mother would say when she saw her like this.
No matter what Lillin said, her mother would never forgive this. If she claimed Manson had suddenly gone mad and cut her hair, her mother’s reaction was predictable.
But if she said Manson had told her to “come closer,” and she had no choice but to obey, and then he stared at her until her knees ached—then her mother would surely kill her.
—Stop it, Dad!
Lillin almost burst into tears as memories came rushing back—memories of being dragged upstairs by her mother when she was younger, before Manson came.
Even though she had promised herself never to cry again, the words “I’m sorry” were already on the tip of her tongue.
Manson swung his arm, and Lillin’s head hit the wardrobe. Her vision spun, and a bitter taste spread on her lips.
A nosebleed…? she thought, trying to stay conscious. She remembered her mother, nose bleeding and unconscious after being thrown like this by Manson.
Mom won’t wipe my blood. She won’t put a towel on me. I gave her one, but she never once said thank you.
I didn’t do anything wrong.
I didn’t do anything…
Thump, thump. She heard sounds even though she couldn’t see anything. A cracking noise, the wardrobe creaking, Manson cursing under his breath…
Then, Lillin felt her body lifted into the air. Was she dead? Alive? Or maybe Manson suddenly realized what he’d done and was taking her to the hospital?
Yeah, maybe. He did throw me too hard. Maybe the monster under his skin whispered to him:
“You big oaf. I said to scare her, not kill her. What do you think the constables will do when they find this girl dead? They’ll skewer you like a whale—with a harpoon. Alive.”
Maybe that’s why Manson was scared now, Lillin thought. Maybe now…
—Girls like you are bound to do filthy things eventually.
Her limp body was shoved into the wardrobe—or rather, into the hole beneath its torn-out bottom. She was shorter than her peers, but even then, it was barely enough to stuff her in.
Lillin collapsed inside in an awkward position, unconscious. The latch clicked from the outside, but she could hear no more. Her heartbeat was faint… She would remain unconscious the entire day.
Until the next day, when Echenais arrived and swept through the mountain houses. Until she would have to scratch at the wardrobe, tearing her fingernails in fear.
—If you promise to play with me, I’ll let you out.
Until the pigtail girl appeared with a creepy grin and said that.
“What’s wrong? Why are you moving so slow? That’s not how it’s supposed to go—I heard everything!”
Smurlkin shrieked with a terrifyingly high voice as she hovered mid-air. It was a voice strong enough to wilt trees and make birds fall dead from their nests.
Eustar dodged the grotesquely elongated claws and hair of Smurlkin while swinging his sword. Her claw tips were like saw blades, and even a single strand of her hair could slice off a head.
“You’re supposed to run faster! So the seeker can catch you! So I can catch you!”
She slashed her claws like scythes. Eustar leaned back to dodge, then pulled out a small jelly-like object filled with clear liquid and hurled it.
When Smurlkin slashed it, the soft shell burst, splashing water that burned and melted her skin. Smurlkin let out a piercing scream.
“You bastard! You had a blessed item?!”
Eustar shrugged.
“Did you think I wouldn’t? You didn’t do your homework on us.”
“You little…!”
Smurlkin’s rage made her hair stand up like porcupine spines. Black tar steamed and dripped from her shoulders, arms, wrists, and claw tips.
Eustar signaled the others to fall back as he alone faced Smurlkin descending slowly from the air.
She no longer looked like a child. The shell covering her began to melt from the blessed water, revealing the patchy, monstrous form inside.
Eustar glanced at her grotesquely long arm and sneered.
“Why don’t you just show your true self, Smurlkin? What’s with clinging to a child’s shell? Want someone to call you cute? Too bad—I know what you really are, so I can’t even pretend.”
“You insolent worm!”
Her mouth split open, tearing through the childlike shell.
Rows of jagged teeth and a triangular, scaly head emerged. Even the battle-hardened Robsker paled.
Arms and legs stretched, joints bent like a mantis, and three bulbous eyes locked onto Eustar.
Laila… please… hurry.
Sweat rolled down his forehead. But the Sync remained silent. It flickered slightly stronger—nothing more. Laila was nowhere to be seen.
—You found me, so now I’m ‘it’! Where will you run? Tuck your tail and hide like a dog? You won’t get far. You always reek!
“The cursed scent of a human? Sure. But right now, your stink is worse.”
Smurlkin lunged with jaws wide, legs scuttling like a spider’s. Eustar glanced at the Sync and pictured Laila’s face. If he didn’t end it in one blow, he’d die.
Then it happened.
“The thing under the bed—that was the thief’s right arm. The one beside the closet—that was the robber’s left.”
Smurlkin’s gaping maw froze in midair.
A sound like thousands of branches snapping echoed. One of her long legs twisted backward and broke.
—Aaaargh!
Her massive body writhed, black tar spewing between her teeth. Eustar leapt back, dodging the tar rain, and shouted:
“Robsker, close the trap!”
At his command, Robsker spun his sword and slammed it into the ground. The other team members did the same.
Smurlkin’s stretched body suddenly shriveled, crushed as if by invisible boulders.
—No! Don’t kill me! Just send me back! I won’t ever return…!
Eustar didn’t listen. He drove his sword into the twitching head, and Smurlkin thrashed—then melted away with a squelch.
Panting, Eustar leaned on his sword and looked up.
“Well done, Laila.”
Covered in black dust and cobwebs, Laila looked at him with a faint smile.
“Lillin told me.”
She opened her clenched hand. Inside was a translucent cube—Lillin’s core, found through Laila’s overlay.
Eustar said,
“Will you give it to me, Laila?”
But she closed her hand again and looked him in the eye.
“No, Eustar. I won’t let you feed Lillin to whatever you’re keeping.”
Even before she finished, dark smoke slowly rose behind Eustar’s shoulder. He was slightly taken aback but tried not to show it.
“If that thing doesn’t disappear, the Sync won’t either, Laila.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean I have to feed it.”
“…What…?”
His voice trailed off as he turned. A massive man was being dragged by the team. His face was bluish, like lead poisoning, and he was cursing obscenely like it was breathing.
