Chapter 83
A lot happened between me and Theo, but honestly, whether it did or not doesn’t matter.
How many times had I already watched my family die right before my eyes?
Something like this—I could just shrug it off like it was nothing.
Theo had probably blown off my head plenty of times too, so he’d be fine.
That’s just the kind of person he was.
Strong, needlessly kind, with a ridiculous sense of responsibility.
Yeah.
Even now, we were keeping this slightly awkward distance like nothing had happened.
I didn’t lie down in bed—just leaned against the wall and started reading a book.
The words didn’t even sink in. I was only doing it to kill time.
At some point, I dozed off, and when I opened my eyes again, it was already dawn.
Theo was slumped on the couch, nodding off half-asleep.
If I really wanted to, I could take out my gun and blow my head off right now.
I’d have to stick the barrel in my mouth and pull the trigger to obliterate my brainstem.
Thinking that, I pulled out the gun—but then I looked at Theo’s face.
Why couldn’t I look at him earlier?
And why couldn’t I bring myself to say I was sorry?
Maybe—just maybe—it was because I didn’t want this fragile connection to break.
If that was it… then what should I do?
"Hey, Theo."
He didn’t wake. Must’ve been in a deep sleep.
Lately, he sometimes slept like this—deeply, as if he really believed I wouldn’t kill myself.
Or maybe he was confident he’d wake up in time and save me if I tried anything.
I doubted even Theo could bring back someone with a blown-out brainstem—so maybe he just trusted me.
Why was I hearing his voice even though he was asleep?
All the curses Theo had thrown at me so far echoed in my ears.
What was more grotesque than all that rage-filled yelling was probably the sight of me bringing up Alicia while Theo clung to his dead little sister, sobbing.
Did he say something like, "Someone like you should just die"?
What did I reply again?
Something like, “Sure, whatever,” and then I think I blew my own head off.
I wasn’t expecting anything noble out of it, but still—I didn’t want to hear that.
Even though I always ended up killing myself after hearing those words, I guess deep down I’d still hoped he might try to save me.
It was pathetic how ugly that hope looked now.
I wanted to apologize, and just like I did with Ethel, I wanted to make up with Theo too.
I didn’t want to hear that I’d been lying all along.
Sure, at first, I approached him because he was the protagonist—but after a while, it just felt comfortable, like being with Ethel.
I liked how he didn’t brag, even when he was out there hunting down grotesque, wicked villains and slicing off their heads.
Usually, people who did that kind of thing would start spouting bullshit like “Marry me someday,” while hitting on me.
But if they ever found out the truth about the Speyer family, they’d all run screaming with their tails between their legs.
You didn’t run—you stood your ground. I could give you extra credit for that.
"Theo."
"What?"
"I can’t say this sober. Let me go grab the booze I hid a while back."
"…Wait, let me put on my shoes."
Of course he didn’t want to leave me alone.
I went deep into the room where I used to keep my things and dug out a box stuffed with liquor.
It hadn’t been touched in a while—dust was everywhere.
Not the kind of stuff you drink straight from the bottle, but I couldn’t be bothered to get glasses.
I just tossed one of the bottles to Theo and popped open another one.
I didn’t have a corkscrew, so I pulled the dagger from my thigh and carefully twisted the cork out.
Theo looked at the bottle, unsure what to do, so I just threw the dagger at him too.
I thought about clinking bottles, but we weren’t really the type to toast.
So I just downed the alcohol.
I hadn’t had any in a while, and the strong stuff hit me fast—the world started spinning.
This dizzy feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
That is, if the people I’d killed weren’t standing in front of me.
Theo’s rotting, zombie-like corpses were glaring at me.
Ethel was beside them, a hole in her forehead, staring at me with hollow eyes. Isabel and Diana were leaning next to her.
All standing on a pile of Alicia’s corpses.
Maybe it was time these hallucinations and nightmares got a little more creative.
I’d seen them not just a few, but dozens of times—at this point they weren’t scary, just cliché.
Waking up from a nightmare always felt awful for a simple reason.
Even if the contents were horrifying, all I remembered was that something had shown up. Nothing more.
It’s like rereading a novel you loved, after enough time has passed to forget everything—you enjoy it all over again.
But I replayed those scenes in my head constantly, even without the hallucinations or nightmares.
All it did was make me feel worse.
I wanted to cling to someone, but I always felt that way—so it didn’t help anymore.
"Not drinking?"
"…You wake me up and then feed me booze. What kind of mood swing is this?"
"When the alcohol kicks in, your face flushes and your head spins.
It messes with your judgment. That way, you can say the stuff you’d never say sober."
If you added a bit of weed to a cigarette, it’d be perfect.
But I hated the stink of weed.
Cigarettes you could mask with flavors, but weed had this awful stench.
I pulled out a cigar like always, took a long time lighting it, and finally clamped it between my lips as the smoke began to rise.
"I'm sorry, Theo.
Sorry for being alive, and sorry for everything I’ve done up till now.
Actually, maybe you’re the one I should’ve apologized to first."
There were plenty of things I didn’t like about him, sure, but I’d still gone too far.
I still remembered when I cried and came at him screaming, asking why his family got to live when Alicia didn’t.
I’d shown him countless brutal deaths—people dying miserably.
Hoping it’d break him.
At some point, when he tried to save me, I’d blow my head off again without warning, or pretend to go along before killing him instead.
I knew what it felt like to lose someone you tried to save.
And I still threw it back at him.
Saying sorry now doesn’t mean shit.
"But whether it’s my pride or just because you piss me off so much, I couldn’t bring myself to apologize."
I covered my face with both hands and collapsed onto the bed.
After a long while, Theo spoke.
"Sorry for killing you over and over without listening."
"I’m still alive, so it’s fine."
"…How did it end up like this?"
"Beats me."
"Sorry I couldn’t save my sister."
"In this kind of atmosphere, I can’t exactly nag you about it. So it’s oka—"
"Sorry I told you to give up."
I couldn’t say anything.
It wasn’t that I got choked up.
It was like the words just… got stuck.
"You know this doesn’t mean we’re making up, right?"
"Yeah, I know."
Theo lit a cigar too.
We’d been stuck together so long that even though we hated each other, we’d started to resemble one another.
Sometimes when I caught myself picking up his habits, it creeped me out.
"I nodded… but I wonder if I really meant it.
Or if I was just so soaked in depression that I nodded without thinking."
"I dunno. If you don’t know, then nobody does."
My head spun.
"You took all the twisted emotions, all my obsession with Alicia, my grief, my life… You took everything."
I walked over and snatched the cigarette out of Theo’s mouth.
Then I just tossed it behind me.
If it caused a fire, so what? Theo would put it out.
Or we’d both burn to death together.
"That’s why—don’t you think I should get something in return?"
Wasn’t this the kind of story where the great protagonist goes through all sorts of adventures, grows stronger, and falls in love with the heroines?
If it’s just love, I figured I could steal that much.
I brought my lips to his, and let our breaths mix.
The bitter metallic tang of alcohol lingered in my mouth, layered with the distinct taste of his cigar.
And then—I bit down on Theo’s tongue.
Didn’t sever it. Just enough to shred it.
The kiss tasted like blood and iron.
"Don’t go near Isabel.
Ah, not that it matters. You’ll be my husband soon anyway.
Since you're a church guy and all."
"……You’re insane."
"Now, now. That’s nothing new. I’m just a little different from everyone else.
But then again—aren’t you the same?"
I wiped the blood off my lips with my sleeve.
Then I glanced at the mirror and saw myself grinning.
A half-dead thing, smiling like it was still alive.
"Ethel’s disqualified. Mm. Two girls can’t get married anyway, so let’s say she’s your mistress."
My relationship with Theo wasn’t love.
It’s just that, after taking too much from each other—good and bad—we ended up a tangled mess.
Once love, hate, and anger get mixed beyond separation, other people just see it as broken.
"With all your epic tales, the academy head, high-ranking nobles coveting your powers, all those beautiful girls around you, and close friends—
Sounds like a successful life, right? But now the only thing you get to have… is me."
Giving up everything you had, only to end up with a madwoman like me?
I guess it was still a bit short for the price of giving up Alicia.