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1144 Words
Baldwin’s whole body trembled like a blender, his arms ice-cold. “Devil.” He stammered for a long while before finally squeezing out a word: “There’s a devil!”
Beatrix Henry sighed and turned to Dante, his tone stern: “He can’t speak. You explain.”
Dante took a deep breath, rubbing his face to steady his nerves. His chest rose and fell with each shaky breath: “When you two went upstairs, it came.”
Beatrix Henry asked, “Did you see the devil with your own eyes?”
Dante shook his head frantically. “No, no, no, no. The village chief told us to close the curtains, and we didn’t dare open them.”
Phedra Henry stood up, glancing toward the window where the curtains were drawn. “Then how did you know it had come?”
Dante bit his lip, hesitating. “At first, the people outside were pounding on the door like crazy, but then it suddenly went quiet. It was so still out there that I just… I peeked through a corner of the curtain. I wish I hadn’t. I almost fainted from fear.”
Dante’s face was white as a sheet, while Baldwin sobbed quietly.
Dante covered his face. “I’ll never forget what I saw. Not for the rest of my life.”
He nervously bit his thumb, voice trembling, “I’m so scared! I saw its face! I saw it—horrible!”
Beatrix Henry lost patience, rubbing his forehead and sneezing, “Were you the only one who saw its face?”
Dante nodded, teary-eyed. “Yeah.”
“Then what’s that kid crying about?” Beatrix said in a low voice, glancing at Baldwin.
Baldwin had buried his face in his knees, not daring to look up.
Dante wiped away his tears. “He ran out when I screamed. He didn’t see its face, but he saw the bodies. The bodies were all lined up on the ground, their necks cut… he—”
Beatrix Henry’s expression froze. “They’re dead?”
Dante nodded repeatedly. “I didn’t count, but there were a lot. Probably no survivors.”
Beatrix Henry walked calmly to the window. When he lifted the curtain, his calm demeanor suddenly cracked.
Inside, Phedra Henry tensed and rushed over. “What’s wrong?”
Beatrix Henry dropped the curtain, his face grim. “I can’t see.”
“Can’t see what?”
Phedra Henry moved to open the curtain, but Beatrix’s hand blocked him, pulling him back into the room. “Dante wasn’t talking about the bodies.”
Phedra Henry stiffened, lowering his voice so as not to alarm Dante: “Why?”
Beatrix Henry replied, “Dante said the bodies were stacked on the ground. But now there’s just a big pool of blood out there. This might prove his story—maybe that blood came from the bodies. But why did the bodies disappear?”
Phedra Henry’s face paled. “Isn’t it easier for the killer to get rid of the evidence?”
Beatrix Henry looked back at the window. “Do you think they did as you suggested?”
Phedra Henry shook his head. “I don’t know. But if someone chose the evil path, why kill them?”
Beatrix Henry smiled faintly, “Maybe they didn’t choose—or didn’t have time.”
Phedra Henry was speechless. “You can still laugh.”
Beatrix Henry shrugged, slinging an arm around Phedra Henry’s shoulders and pulling him close. “If you won’t let me laugh, then should I cry for you?”
Phedra Henry didn’t push him away. He was silent for a while before softly asking, “Aren’t you scared?”
Beatrix Henry didn’t answer.
“But I am,” Phedra Henry continued.
Beatrix Henry lowered his head, looking at him.
That handsome face remained unreadable, but after a moment, he finally looked away.
The two of them returned to the middle of the living room. Baldwin seemed to have calmed down and was now shuffling out of the kitchen, a chicken drumstick clamped in his mouth.
The skinny leg looked too small for his mouth, making him look as if he were holding a cigar—just missing the smoke.
The sight gave Phedra Henry goosebumps. He couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you keep staring at me?”
Ika folded his arms against the wall. “If you hadn’t looked at me, how would you know I was staring?”
Phedra Henry turned away, refusing to get into a staring contest with a wolf suffering from nasal allergies.
He went into the kitchen to grab two chicken wings for Baldwin. Even though the fear hadn’t fully passed, hunger did help. Baldwin’s stomach had been rumbling all day; he quickly thanked him and began to eat.
Baldwin was halfway through a wing when he asked Dante, “Hey, did you hear any strange noises?”
Dante was also gnawing on his food, distracted. “Noise?”
“What noise?” Beatrix Henry pulled up a chair to the table—no one knew when he’d changed into a gray-and-black luxury pajama set.
Phedra Henry glanced at Beatrix’s new outfit but didn’t bother to comment.
Baldwin scratched his head, struggling to describe it. “I don’t know how to put it…”
“I know what you mean.” Just then, Ika finally tossed aside the chicken bone he’d been chewing and suddenly spoke up.
Beatrix Henry took a bottle of antibacterial spray from his pajama pocket, spritzed his hands, and wiped them with a handkerchief. “Would it kill you to say a few more words?”
Ika coughed, looking away.
Phedra Henry: “…”
He patiently asked, “What did the sound resemble?”
Ika closed his eyes, glancing sideways at him. “Him.”
Phedra Henry blinked, then suddenly turned to stare at the only person at the table still diligently eating—Dante.
Dante, sensing the change in atmosphere, slowed his chewing and looked up, confused. “What… what’s wrong? Is there something behind me?”
“Just keep eating,” Phedra Henry said.
Dante’s head filled with question marks. “Huh?”
He didn’t get it, but obediently continued eating.
In the quiet kitchen, the only sound was chewing and lips smacking over the table.
Phedra Henry motioned for Dante to stop, then asked Ika, “Is this the sound?”
Ika looked at him with a complicated expression and nodded.
The table fell silent.
Phedra Henry’s question and Ika’s confirmation left everyone’s faces gray with dread.
Little Baldwin suddenly found he couldn’t swallow the chicken in his mouth.
“Don’t scare me like that, man.”
Phedra Henry replied languidly, “Didn’t you hear it yourself?”
Baldwin licked his dry lips. “Did you hear it, too?”
- Writer
