Shatter, Scatter, Hate (8)
“Aah… Aaah…!!”
Despair, laden with emptiness.
Hatred bloomed beautifully, a shriek of agony.
A cruel emotion.
Simultaneously, a sense of loss consumed him like a cigarette.
The boy was buried under a dreadful blossoming.
“Gyaaaa!!!”
His scream, a heart-wrenching wail,
Became a sharp second hand, setting the children's frozen time in motion.
Tick-tock, tick-tock—.
The unpleasant ticking of the clock hand,
A grating noise that seemed to foreshadow the tragedy to come.
“Raiden…?”
Margaret mumbled the boy's name, dazed.
As her crimson eyes regained focus, a new scene unfolded before her.
“S-Senior! What’s gotten into you?!”
“Raiden, wait! Don’t tear those bandages! Your wounds haven’t healed…!”
-Riip!
Allen and Lorraine's cries sliced through the heavy air.
Following their urgent voices came the sound of something tearing.
“R-Raiden! What are you doing?!”
A stain bloomed.
A bright crimson stain.
Starting from the boy’s feet, it spread, painting everything in a sticky hue.
It was the color of peonies blooming in May and June.
That's how red it was.
Blood gurgled from the carelessly peeled-back flesh,
And with a plop, intestines tumbled to the floor, grotesquely mangled.
“Stop him!”
The children scrambled,
Rushing towards the boy who was tearing at himself with a guttural roar.
-Slice, rip! Thud…
Every time his blood-soaked fingertips grazed his skin,
The meticulously applied bandages ripped apart.
Flesh tore.
Blood-stained bandages lay scattered across the floor.
Blood splattered.
Tears streamed down.
“You…!”
Margaret desperately tried to stop him, grabbing his arm,
But Raiden, having lost all reason, thrashed and roared like a beast.
“Aaaaaargh!!!”
“Ugh…! Stop it, Raiden!”
“Damn it, Senior!!”
Even at his limit,
Raiden possessed strength that dwarfed that of the Academy students.
Margaret was powerless.
She couldn't stop his self-harm,
And could only be dragged along by his rough grasp.
-Shhhk!
His nails, like claws, raked across his abdomen.
A stain bloomed.
This time, it wasn't just the boy.
The girl, too, was drenched in the fragrant, bloody dew.
“No…! Please, stop…!!”
As expected,
It didn't end there.
The boy plucked at his flesh again and again.
The squishy sensation of intestines,
The metallic scent of blood,
The stark heat of his body,
All assaulted her senses.
“Please, I beg you…!!”
Tears welled up in her eyes.
Her pleading face, framed by silver hair, was now dotted with crimson.
“Eivy! Clara! Help me!”
“S-Saintess! We’ll hold him down, you use the sleep spell…!”
Finally, with all five of them struggling,
The boy stopped.
“Gah…! Aaaargh!!”
“Saintess, now! Quickly…!!”
“Just hold on a little longer…!”
Lorraine hurriedly channeled her divine power.
“God… Please, grant this lamb a gentle kiss of slumber.”
-Sleep-
Lorraine’s hand covered the boy’s eyes.
As her prayer echoed through the room, the boy’s resistance ceased.
His body went limp.
His wild eyelids fluttered closed,
And his blood-soaked hand fell away.
“Haah, haah…”
“Damn it… What just…?”
The children, panting, held onto the unconscious Raiden.
Unfortunately, there was no time for them to catch their breath.
“Oh my god… The surgical site…!”
As soon as Raiden lost consciousness,
Lorraine, who had immediately checked on him, paled.
The abdominal wound, painstakingly sutured, had burst open.
-Splatter, gush…
Blood oozed from his mangled insides.
Lorraine yelled in horror,
“Quickly, move Raiden to the bed! And bandages! Healing potions! As many as you can find!”
Following her frantic orders,
The children sprang into action.
“Eivy! Let's move Young Master to his bed!”
“Carefully, Allen.”
“I-I’ll find the potions and scrolls!”
“I’ll get the bandages…!”
Chaos filled the darkness.
Ignoring the commotion, Lorraine focused her divine power.
A radiant golden aura enveloped the bloodied boy lying on the floor.
“God…”
For a while,
Only the sound of her prayers filled the room.
.
.
.
While Lorraine poured her remaining divine power into the boy, desperately trying to breathe life back into him,
Clara scoured the living room for bandages and other medical supplies.
“These are used… These are torn… Those are too dirty…”
Her clear blue eyes darted around.
She swiftly scanned the room, gathering anything usable.
Soon, her arms were overflowing with potions, bandages, needles, and thread.
As she turned to bring everything to Lorraine,
Something lying in the corner of the living room caught her eye.
“What’s this…?”
There, lying forgotten on the dark floor,
Was a plain white mask.
Clara frowned, picking it up, a sense of familiarity washing over her.
“This mask is definitely…”
The smooth, simple design.
The surface, slightly stained with dirt and blood.
“…It can’t be.”
It was his mask.
The masked man who had single-handedly defended the back gate during the monster invasion a few days ago.
Clara, who had been present at the time,
Recognized the mask instantly.
“But… why would that man's mask be here…?”
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Welp, there go the masked hero reward.
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