Down the hall to the left of the cathedral's main room, a voice had called out his name. He immediately carried the lamp and ran down the hall, swinging the bloodstained door of the left room open. As he shone the light of the oil lamp into the room, his eyes widened in horror.

In the room, the corpses of children had been plastered to the walls and floor. Standing out to Lumière were the two heads of familiar twins, set alongside that of a dog’s. It made Lumière’s stomach churn. Some had rib cages visible, and others had their heads torn from their bodies. The tables and chairs that once neatly decorated the room were torn apart, their legs and splinters having pierced the now-cold corpses that spilt their blood across the floor. Lumière’s mind raced and his stomach churned; he immediately felt nauseous, but before he could spew the contents of his meals out onto the floor, a hoarse, quiet voice shocked him back into lucidity.

“Lumi…”

In the centre of the ash-strewn carnage, there was a woman in black church attire and a head of messied and bloodied blonde hair that fell towards her shoulders. Her cheeks were covered in thick red blood, and that was because it looked as if her eyes had been gouged out of her skull. Her hand which she raised weakly towards the nearby sound of footsteps was missing three fingers, and her right leg had been cleaved from her body. However, all of her wounds were charred black, and the blood had coagulated- as if they had been simultaneously cauterised by the silver flames.

“Elise?” Lumière spoke aloud, the strength in his eyes shimmering as if it had begun to dissipate. He immediately fell to his knees at her side, propping her head up with his hand as he looked down at her.

His lip quivered, and he could tell that his subsequent words would be fraught with shakiness, so he desperately instilled all that was left of his calm demeanour as he tried to soothe her.

“It’s all right now, Elise. That person… he’s dead.” He spoke softly as he brushed a strand of her hair which had grown stiff with blood out of her face. He had tried to make his voice sound as still as possible in an attempt to calm her worries, but if she could have seen his grimacing and horrified face, it would have had no meaningful effect.

"Are the children alright, Lumi? Carlisle, Caladan- what about the others?"

Lumière shook his head visibly, but after realising its insignificance to Sister Alinde, he spoke aloud.

"No."

She let out a pained sigh before speaking.

“I could hear their screams, even though I couldn’t see them… when everything grew quiet, I had some remaining hope that maybe I had grown deaf too- and that the children’s silence was really filled with their laughter that I could not hear.”

Her voice was hoarse and shaky, clear that every word she spoke grew weaker alongside her.

“Is the main hall safe now, Lumi?”

“It is. Although, the scent of death lingers.”

Sister Alinde smiled painfully, before extending her hand which had lost many fingers to touch gently upon Lumière’s face. He almost couldn’t contain the anxieties and horrors inside himself as he felt the familiar softness of her hand.

"Can you... take me to the statue of the Goddess?" Sister Alinde smiled painfully.

“I can do whatever you wish.”

“You’re a wish-granter now, are you?” She teased. Her chiding words were immediately interrupted by a coughing fit, and so Lumière didn’t wait for further replies.

Picking her frail form up, Lumière's lip quivered. He stepped up, holding her gently in his arms, and began to move forward. As Lumière carefully carried her through the hall, her coughing fit ceased, and so Sister Alinde spoke aloud.

"You feel warm... like the sun. Isn't that wonderful?"

Lumière couldn't hold himself back anymore.

“Is this the world that you love? Is this okay?” Lumière said with a shuddering breath.

“Say that it is… and it will be…” She murmured.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Her breathing had grown ever shallower, and her body felt slightly cold to the touch.

"The world really is beautiful, Lumière... I hope you'll grow to treasure all the things that I love..." She whispered in a hoarse voice.

"How can I? How can I accept this?"

"Because I asked you too. Please change the world, and admire it in the meantime..." Sister Alinde smiled softly. “Even when bad things like this happen, don’t let the world turn you so cruel and callous.”

Having reached the main hall, Lumière walked over to the altar at the head of the room, and stared up at the face of the goddess, his face twisted with some sort of adverse hatred. Even if Sister Alinde had said so, he couldn’t help but let the world’s unfairness twist his heart. He sat down underneath the statue and held the weakened woman in his arms, holding her head up with his palm as he looked down at her with sorrow.

Under the statue of the Goddess's watch, where she was surely watching down on her, Sister Alinde smiled softly.

"Lumière..." Sister Alinde spoke hoarsely. "I love you."

His heart sank immediately.

"I love you too," Lumière replied through his tears.

"No... I'm in love with you."

"I know what you mean, so you don't have to repeat it twice, you stupid girl..."

Lumière could barely speak without his voice choking up.

"No... I changed my mind... say it again."

The air in the monastery was still and quiet, apart from Lumière's sobs. There was no response. His heart sunk to its greatest depths, and a dull pain began to sting every nerve throughout his body. Tears streamed down his face, and his once-calm breaths shuddered.

"Say it again!" Lumière cried out. "Please... please say it again..."

He clutched at her tattered clothes, pulling her closer, although the warmth in her body had already faded away, and so she felt like no more than another corpse. Her bloodied face had shut its eyes, and a soft smile remained on her face, even in her death. So, he just sat in the eerie silence of the monastery’s hall and blankly stared at her expression while his tears flowed and gradually dried up against his face.

In the quiet atmosphere of the monastery, Lumière could feel his eyes growing heavy. An eerie calm had pooled in his heart, and his anxieties had vanished. However, illusory murmurs began resounding throughout the room once more, clearer than they ever had been, shocking him back into lucidity as he glanced upwards.

“{Heretic!}”

“{Heretic!}”

“{Heretic!}”

“{Accept this curse, Servant- of Lord Sinner! Your blessing of God is not- your only legacy! Your fate requires- you to become the world’s worst Sinner! Become- its enemy! Become- a Heretic! Your predecessors have long- prepared the path for you! Tear- fate away from- the world! Become ‘his’ Beacon!}”

Thick black shadows arose from around him, pooling against the ceiling as burgeoning eyes glanced down upon him. Rather, they seemed to be staring at the bright silvery glow that had blanketed the room in an eerie calm beside him. Lumière’s gaze looked downwards and saw that the unimportant card, the one of spades left behind by the rat man, had begun to glow alike to the silver flames that had erupted during their fight. He reached out cautiously and picked it up, flipping it over to reveal its image. The image of the man cradling the black spade now looked upwards towards him, with horrified eyes that had begun to bleed thick black blood down his cheeks. At the same time, Lumière’s face felt warm and wet. He reached out to touch his cheeks and retracted his fingers, realised that his flowing tears had turned a pitch-black colour.

A piercing pain burst through his head, and before he could even try and discern the matter, Lumière fell unconscious, his head resting against the altar underneath the watch of the Goddess of Thorns, cradling the cold corpse of his ‘sun’ in his arms. The spade card fell to the ground, and its silvery glow began to dissipate. Its shadow trembled underneath the faint lamplight and grew small black tendrils which reached slowly over towards Lumière. As they made contact with his own shadow, they seemed to fuse with it before disappearing entirely.

His body began to emanate a dark and cold black aura, just like the rat man.

—-

Four figures, all cloaked in black, rushed through the ajar door of the monastery, only to reel back in horror and nauseous disgust as they witnessed the sights of the carnage. Father Benedict, an unknown middle-aged man, Constantine Adler, and Eamon Stroud immediately looked towards each other with glances of agreement. Constantine reached into his jacket and produced a silvery revolver, and Eamon Stroud did the same. Father Benedict and the middle-aged man followed behind them, having steeled his heart and his gaze as they re-entered the monastery. Inside, illuminated by faint lamplight, he saw the familiar sight of his childhood friend, the career liar and illusionist, Lumière. He had thick black blood dried up against his cheeks, and he gently held in his arms the Sister, Elise Alinde, who had lost many of her extremities, as well as her eyes.

Father Benedict immediately rushed over towards them, abandoning his caution as he felt for their pulses. Lumière had a faint and healthy breath, but Elise had long grown cold. Father Benedict’s lip quivered, but he retracted his hand and stood back up without even a sigh escaping his mouth.

“One survivor in this room. Lumière Croft has survived the attack.” Father Benedict spoke with strange professionalism back towards the two figures of the organised criminal group and the mysterious man.

“Take the survivor to the Cathedral.” The middle-aged man said sternly.

Constantine let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t show outwardly and began to glance around at the bloodied corpses which had been charred pitch-black by flames. Father Benedict did the same, and his mind began racing immediately, not giving him a moment of reprieve to grieve.

‘I have to report this… something as strange as this… the bishop will want to know of this.’

Constantine had different thoughts from the Father, however. At the same time, Eamon began to think the same.

‘Has ‘that’ organisation begun to move?’