The next morning came like the toll of a bell, lethargy and dreariness eclipsed by a terrible premonition. Despite waking mere moments ago, there was no mercy for him as a vivid recollection of last night’s events rushed in; he was burdened by all the shame and regret of a drunken revelry but wasn't given the forgetfulness.
Lars thought back to his morning in the barracks. After murdering Troels and Jensen, the quiet early hours spent in drawn out anticipation was surreal. Time felt suspended then as it did now.
Lying in the hospital bed, he was still unsure what fate would befall him next. The sun seemed to have risen and illuminated the room; so he turned, glancing around in trepidation.
There were four others in the room with him. Unexpectedly, he recognised not a single face among them. The only familiar presence was the body laying below his bed; no longer a person, merely a thing; a misbegotten carcass.
Lars saw the girl beneath him; but then he looked again, forcibly removed from his sleep-induced stupor. Its countenance was different now. Wholeheartedly unrecognisable from his memory, only the devastated head reduced to a mushy pile of bone fragments and gooey brain matter remained the same. The rest had changed from how it should have been.
Victoria’s body had undergone some kind of transformation, making her look far from human. Thick fur covered her body; her limbs showed no skin, with her hands bearing claws instead of nails. Her limbs had also elongated, but most notably, she had knees that bent backwards and hooves instead of feet, resembling that of a goat.
The attention of the four individuals were not on him, and if not for a quick cursory glance and a word between the two police constables in the back, Lars might have assumed they didn’t know he was awake.
The two closest to him, and consequently, closest to the strange goat-like creature on the ground, had vastly different appearances. Standing on Victoria’s left-side was a clergyman; dressed in priest’s robes, focused on reciting prayers.
The man who stood on the other side looked unfathomably rugged, unbefitting the clean and professional gatherers who at least appeared to belong in this scene. His attire gave away the impression of someone who had given up vanity and solely chased practicality.
He was the closest among them, crouching over the corpse and looking closely at it. A sword was fastened to his hip; it gently knocked against the ground in accordance with his movements, becoming increasingly conspicuous.
“What is going on?” Lars asked.
“Ah… uhm,” A tired, grungy voice rang out. The rugged man then looked at Lars and casually asked, “Did you do this?”
Before Lars could respond, one of the police officers interrupted, “Please refrain from asking those kinds of questions yet, Siegfried.”
“It was me,” Lars answered compliantly.
The officer who had spoken first looked exasperated, while the one by his side was visibly amused; meanwhile, the clergyman continued his prayers without actively involving himself. Siegfried continued to watch Lars with an inscrutable expression.
Siegfried didn’t speak for some time, then finally muttered, “Yeah, you could do it… I guess.”
The amused police constable, who appeared more interested in Lars than before, stepped forward and addressed Lars, “How about you join us in another room for a quick chat?
“Let’s leave those two to their praying and picking.”
Praying and picking, huh… Lars found this description of Siegfried’s actions intriguing. It made him more curious about who this person was.
Lars nodded, showing his compliance. They most likely wanted the details on the previous night’s occurrences and how it had led to this gruesome scene.
While they were in the process of moving elsewhere, the overly serious officer who had spoken first introduced the both of them, “I’m Mitchell, and this here is Bennett.”
Bennett then added, “The priest’s name is Christopher. You heard us say the other guy’s name, right?”
Lars responded, “Yes, I did… Nice to meet you both—I’m Lars.”
He then asked, “I’ve grasped everyone’s positions except Siegfried; who is he, exactly?”
Bennett answered vaguely, “Uhm… An expert, of sorts? He has experience in this kind of thing.”
This kind of thing? What does that mean… Lars nodded along, not gaining a lot of clarity from the explanation.
The three men reached a certain distance away from the medical room and then shared a subtle glance, gesturing towards an unassuming door, eventually deciding to enter with Lars’ approval. He wasn’t more sure than his guests since he was a stranger to the mansion, but the entire estate was so large that it didn’t really matter. The room was definitely empty.
The great number of empty rooms was a sizeable waste. From modern society, in which any spare rooms were opened up for rental, there really was a culture shock. However, this was more of a class difference. Lars had never been this rich until now—by virtue of his unfaithful other self.
While pondering this, Lars turned towards the windows that provided dim lighting to the room with excessive negative space. It was an orange, fading tone that granted a solemn air; Lars would be sharing the details of his latest murder here.
“It’s afternoon…” Lars muttered.
Bennett nodded, “Astute observation.”
Mitchell was less sardonic, going on to explain a little around the outside perspective that Lars couldn't know.
“When one of your servants discovered the body, their first action was to make an attempt at waking you. The problem was… you didn’t. No matter what she tried, you couldn’t be aroused from your deep slumber.
“Your assistant, Leonard, stopped your wife and children from entering the room and witnessing the scene. We were called soon after; as such, we advised no one else to enter the room, given the abnormalities in the case. It took some time for us to call upon a priest and… Siegfried, as well.
“You awoke later, during our investigations; seemingly without reason or stimulus.”
Lars refrained from commenting, pondering to what extent his demanding need for sleep was derived from simple exhaustion—or from that voice. It had spoken to him clearly, ‘Go to sleep’, so its involvement was to be guaranteed at least. The command seemed to have a heavy influence on his subconscious too.
Bennett then clarified further, “Moments before your abrupt wake up, our friend, Siegfried, was trying to figure out if the corpse was the reason why you couldn’t get up. If it’s capable of influencing others postmortem, then the danger levels increase quite a lot. We’re glad you woke up in the end because…”
Lars repeated, “Because?”
Bennett smiled, “Siegfried was going to see if you’d wake up by dragging it through your halls.”
A moment of silence passed. Lars then sighed, agreeing, “I’m also glad that I woke.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
With his assistant's name mentioned, Lars then asked, “Where is Leonard now? My family too, Vanessa, Damien, Charles—is everyone alright?”
“They’re safe,” said Mitchell.
Understanding the implications within the question, Bennett also added, “No one else was affected. Only you, Lars, were involved in the abnormality.”
“That’s good,” Lars sighed in relief. Even if they were people that he barely knew, as a soldier who witnessed innocent lives be taken away on a consistent basis, for reasons they often weren’t involved in or knowledgeable on, he wasn’t fond of the idea that others may have been hurt by Victoria or whatever she was. It was better that the incident revolved around him alone.
On another note, Lars couldn’t help but take notice of Bennett’s repeated use of the word ‘abnormality’ when describing the supernatural. As when describing Siegfried, the two policemen seemed hesitant to make mentions of the deities or demons Rhys warned him about. They merely stated it to be ‘this kind of thing’ as if it was taboo to broach the topic around unaware civilians.
Lars hardly viewed himself as unaware or uninvolved. Putting them as abnormalities like the officers were fond of calling it, he had become involved with multiple already but remained hesitant to speak of any but one; there was his traversal from another world through the mysterious singularity; he had encountered some kind of demonic creature, which took on the guise of Victoria and seduced his alternate self before attempting the same on him; then finally, the strange, enigmatic voice whose words he could not resist.
Lars was only willing to divulge the details of Victoria honestly because he had more secrets to keep; so it was best to veil those which could bring questions to his identity, while exposing the matters which had already been present. After all, Victoria had been preying on him since long before he personally arrived in the mansion.
“Then, shall we get started?” Bennett exclaimed lightly, bearing the attitude one would hold when participating in gossip.
“Let’s grab some chairs to sit down on.” Mitchell, on the other hand, remained professional at all times.
Although the both of them were opposites personality and attitude-wise, they worked well when paired together. Mitchell constantly kept them on track and upheld proper procedure as would be expected—while Bennett brought a more casual tone, with his casual remarks and explanations befitting his younger age.
The three proceeded to sit in a loose circle. Since Bennett sat rather unorderly, two sides weren’t distinguished among the group.
This prevented Lars from feeling like he was being interrogated. However, and though his impression of the two officers was congenial, he found the younger, smiling officer’s attempts at being friendly too agenda-driven. Bennet wasn’t experienced enough to completely conceal his ulterior motives.
For the sake of cooperation, Lars didn’t make things difficult simply because Bennet wanted to do his job. He had information he was willing to give and information he wasn’t willing to give. Providing the necessary amount was his prerogative, and unless this became a lawful interrogation, they couldn’t force him to speak further. He was the victim here.
As a plan was consolidating in Lars’ head, he heard a voice which didn’t belong to anyone in the room:
“Make them aware.”
It was brief like before, saying nothing more on what was meant by those words. Lars nearly jolted out of his chair, but barely kept his composure. He had expected to hear from it again at some point—but so soon, when the interview was about to begin?
Although Lars didn’t react outwardly, Bennet seemed to catch on.
“Is something wrong?”
“No?” Lars feigned ignorance, pretending to not understand the purpose of the question. At the same time, he tried to decipher what the voice meant by its strange choice of words. ‘Make them aware,’ said it—but what was he supposed to make them aware of?
The thought then came to his head: Should I even listen to it? It did help me before, but that doesn’t mean it has good will. I don’t know where it’s come from or what it wants. To begin with, what kind of being can speak directly into your head and issue orders?
Once more, Lars thought back to the two mentions Rhys made—Deities and Demons.
It could be either… Which one is it? Lars then remembered a famous riddle he had heard before. Two doors with two guards; one always lies, the other one always tells the truth. He felt that this was reminiscent of that, except, there was only one present from the two, and he had to figure out whether it was the trickster or the truthteller.
It isn't exercising its influence upon me this time... Is it letting me decide between following it or not? Hm... It feels like a challenge almost, like it's inviting me to try...
Besides, Rhys encouraged exploration. Rewards come to those willing to take the risk. Lars made up his mind and decided to tell more than he was planning to. As a soldier, experienced in disciplined conducts, complete honesty was frankly suicidal in front of police. But for the first time in a long time… he was excited to see where the path to the unknown would take him.
I’ll adhere to its advice this time and test the waters. It makes no sense for it to cause harm so soon, considering it only just saved me. After all—nothing else has been achieved since then. It must have a purpose.