Chapter 13
And before Daisy could say a word, the monk yanked her arm with a vise-like grip.
Daisy tried to shake him off, but the monk's strength was unexpectedly overwhelming. She'd heard plenty of rumors about Berga Priest, but never that he resorted to such brute force.
No matter how much power Berga Priest wielded in the convent, there were eyes everywhere in the world. Did he think no one cared because Daisy had no backing?
They were already at Berga Priest's door. A monk standing guard like a sentry grinned wickedly at the sight of her.
"You actually brought her."
"Where's the priest?"
"Still out of it. Muttering to himself nonstop—looks totally insane."
"Don't talk like that. It's irreverent."
"You're the irreverent one, punk. As if seeing her will snap the priest back to normal."
"It might."
From their conversation, Daisy realized Berga Priest hadn't actually summoned her.
The monk shoved her through the door. Daisy frantically twisted the knob, but it wouldn't budge—as if held from outside.
"We'll let you out once the priest's better."
The monk's voice came muffled through the door. Daisy let go of the knob. Helplessness flooded her body. Tears threatened, but she bit her lip.
If Berga Priest hadn't called for her, she might get lucky and leave unscathed.
Still, what was Berga Priest doing? A man who flaunted his authority so much—why let the monks act freely?
Daisy stepped inside. Berga Priest's room was twice the size of the others'. Groans echoed from within. No—panting?
And the moment Daisy saw Berga Priest, she instinctively backed away.
This was utterly unexpected.
Berga Priest was slamming his head on the floor, drawing on paper. Sheets were crumpled, ink bottles spilled, blackening the floor.
He hadn't even dipped properly; the marks looked like mere presses on the paper.
The shape was indistinct, but Daisy recognized it instantly. How could she not? It was the pattern that thing wearing Lady Evangeline's skin had drawn.
"Must complete the hidden part. Is this it? Feels right…."
Berga Priest was so absorbed he hadn't noticed her enter.
His hand moved frantically. Daisy stood behind, staring down at him. Her breath quickened. It felt like peeking into the Rohanson Mansion's fourth-floor storage room. Something indescribable might emerge from the summoning circle any moment, just like then.
Can't let this happen. He can't finish it. I barely escaped—can't face those eyes again. Must stop him… stop him somehow.
Daisy spotted Rahel's statue nearby and grabbed it. The carved god was heavy. She raised it high with both hands and brought it down.
A dull thud vibrated through her fingertips.
The priest collapsed forward. As Daisy released it, the Rahel statue hit the floor and shattered in half. Red stained Rahel's white robes.
Blood from the priest's head soaked the drawing. Unbeknownst to Daisy, it followed the pen marks like waterways, filling the pattern with color.
"What… what have I done…."
Daisy gasped, realizing the horror she'd wrought. I just wanted to stop him.
What now if caught? Killing a priest was far graver than murder. It was slaying one blessed by God. She'd be executed.
"Must run…."
But this was the fourth floor—no jumping. Two monks guarded the door. No escape. Unless someone helped.
"Need help?"
A whisper tickled her ear.
Daisy whipped her head, trembling. A man impossibly close grinned, sharp teeth flashing, red tongue flicking. Swamp-black hair filled her vision.
"Shh. Be quiet."
The man covered her mouth. Daisy stopped breathing.
"Hey, hear something? What's going on?"
"Why ask? Pretend you didn't and leave it."
"Ah…."
The recent thud seemed resolved between them; the door stayed shut. As the man's hand fell, Daisy exhaled held breath. Oxygen cleared her daze. He stared, head tilted.
"Came because I smelled that guy, but why are you alone?"
"That guy…?"
"Don't know? The multi-eyed one. Called Plauros."
At "eyes," Daisy shuddered. Did he mean that thing from Rohanson Mansion?
"You know it? I need to see it. You'll take me."
Daisy shook her head. Back there? Never.
"No choice. You already wished, right? I came cheap—now help me, or it's no deal."
Wish? As Daisy puzzled, the man snapped his fingers. The dead priest began to rise.
The scene recalled Evangeline's revival. That nightmare intensified, repeating.
"Urk. You offered that as sacrifice? No starving guy like me would touch it."
The man dry-heaved at the corpse. His cheer made the gruesome sight almost comical.
"There. I moved it—your turn to run."
Before Daisy could resist, he snapped again.
When she came to, she stood in the forest outside the convent. Where she and the man vanished, the priest sat blankly in the blood-and-ink mess. Surely empty inside.
"Oops. Forgot after-service."
Like forgetting an item on outing, the man returned, passed the priest, and opened the door. The two guarding monks blinked at the stranger—then lines appeared on their necks, heads tumbling.
Oddly, the headless bodies didn't fall; they picked up the rolling heads and reattached them to each other's necks.
"Perfect. Yes, very good."
The man vanished, satisfied. The heads mismatched? Not important.
***
"…You'll find what you're looking for there."
Daisy pointed at Rohanson Mansion. The man peered through the carriage window, eyed her appraisingly, and nodded. He'd asked for guidance to the destination—no need for her to enter.
"Yeah. Smells strong. It set up house there?"
"…Probably."
If he meant the eyes, it never left Rohanson Mansion—likely true.
Daisy wanted out now. Fearing the eyes might watch again, she yearned to flee Rohanson Mansion fast. And escape this outwardly cheerful, friendly man.
He was the monster she'd summoned. Her sin walking alive choked her.
Deal done. He'd see the eyes, then leave.
He wouldn't stay, right?
How many died coming here? Reveling in feast, he beheaded people and—perverted hobby—reattached heads.
The dead rose like Berga Priest, walking fine. Save the red neck lines, indistinguishable from normals.
Like seeking eyes, did he revive Lady Evangeline? No—he didn't know Rohanson Mansion.
"Call if you need more. Next time, full price."
The man waved lightly, alighting. Through the small window, his back receded toward the blooming cherry tree. Still flowering since Lady hanged there.
"Where to, miss?"
The coachman asked.
"Where to?"
He twisted his neck to look. The eerie motion made Daisy swallow dryly.
"Where to?"
No answer, the unchanged tone and pace repeated. Would ask till answered? Daisy glanced at the red line on his neck.
Recalling that nightmarish day and today, she chose.
"The temple."
***
"Save me!"
Encountered a talking black wolf. Slap cheek to capture? No.
Injured? Without speech, it'd pass as hunted wildlife.
But it talked?
Romance-fantasies I'd read flashed by. Spirits appeared, subtle yandere vibes hinted age—but this novel's old-school. Why?
That's a werewolf…. Talking black wolf? No other options. Pure math formula.
Male lead's probably Gabriel, so this sub-lead? Suspicions bubbled.
Plot roughly guessed….
