Lumière stood up from where he had fallen in the alleyway, reaching into his back pocket to procure a piece of flash paper. As he drew it in front of him, he brushed it alongside a particular spot of his coat, which had been fitted with a concealed red phosphorus sheet pulled from a matchbox. It was immediately set alight as Lumière hurled it towards the beast. As it colliding with the back of the horrific creature’s head, it exploded theatrically, filling the air with multi-coloured sparks. The mother and daughter let out a yelp, surprised by the sudden explosion, but it was more than enough to draw the monster’s attention away.
It reared its vile, profane head, turning towards Lumière with a gaze full of pure vitriol; it stared at Lumière with hatred in its eyes. It lunged without hesitation, barreling towards Lumière with its maw of a thousand needle-like teeth bared agape.
To any other man, this would have been a terrifying sight. However, to Lumière, who had just signed away his life to an evil Deity, and witnessed the sky transform into horror, he didn’t feel his heart waver in the face of the monster. Instead, retaining the knife thrown to him by Thomas Hawthorne, he dashed towards the creature in unison.
Before the beast could clamp down on his flesh, he kicked outwards with his foot, brushing past the teeth of the beast. They grazed against his leg, spilling his blood onto the ground. With his foot against the large miasmic tongue of the beast, Lumière thrust the knife upwards, burying it in the roof of its mouth. The beast cried out, its bellows echoing underneath Lumière’s foot.
Still, he raged on. Turning towards the mother and child, he shouted. “Run, damn it! Take your child and run!”
The mother, who had still not grasped the whole situation, quickly got to her feet, pulling up her child along with her. The little girl, however, would have recognised the face of the magician anywhere. She pleaded with her mother as they ran, but a child knew not what to say in a situation like that. She just stared at Lumière from afar, tears in her eyes as she watched the magician stand against the beast, until she saw him no longer.
When the two had vanished from sight, Lumière felt relieved. It wasn’t because he feared for their lives. From the moment he had turned the creature’s attention away, he had been convinced that they would remain safe. Rather, it was because he didn’t intend to slay the beast with the knife that Thomas Hawthorne had left behind.
It was because he wanted those two to remain convinced that he was just an illusionist. After all, real magic was prohibited by law, and as of that moment, Lumière had become a true magician.
When he had advanced to what Thomas Hawthorne had referred to as the ‘Path of the Sinner’, Lumière had instantly grasped the three key powers he had obtained from experiencing horrific anguish. As Thomas had entailed, they related to Sin, to ‘Despair’. The first was the ability to create ‘Dreadful Tremours’ throughout an area, causing someone to experience a minute amount of fear that might twist a fight in his favour. Lumière had initially written this ability off the moment he had understood it, as it didn’t seem very relevant in the fight ahead. However, the other two abilities seemed far more useful to him. The second ability he had gained was ‘Fear Transmutation’, the ability to absorb and transmute the feelings of fear in the area around him into tangible strength and mental clarity. The third, which Lumière had already begun to use, was the ability to turn his blood into a potent poison. Having made his way halfway into the creature’s mouth, he had spilled his own blood into its writhing stomach, which was visible down its gaping maw.
Lumière kicked at the giant beast, pulling himself free from its mouth. Its jaw snapped shut immediately after, biting down on the knife Lumière had embedded in its mouth. Its scarlet blood dripped from its jaw, mixing into the swirling liquid miasma that made up its abominable form. Lumière took a step back, his mind racing as he tried to think of his next move.
‘I can’t use fear transmutation if I’m not afraid. Moreover, I can almost sense that this creature isn’t afraid either… but why do I feel like a sense of despair still lurks in this area?’ As the beast approached Lumière, he cautiously examined it, taking steps back in parallel to its slowing movements. ‘The more I observe it, the more I feel that the origin of this fear comes from deep within it… but why? I can tell it isn’t afraid, so why do I feel its despair?’
Lumière let out a slight ‘tsk’, pulling out another sheet of flash paper and dragging it against his coat before hurling it towards the creature. In the moment that sparks filled the air, Lumière used the cover of light to reposition behind the monster.
‘Thomas Hawthorne said that by calling out to the Sin that I embody- Despair, I can summon an alternate ‘persona’ that is characterised by my opposite traits. How would this materialise? Would I suddenly lose myself if I were to summon that personality? This seems like a last resort option… Thomas wouldn’t even tell me of the repercussions of the abilities this ‘Lord Sinner’ granted to me… perhaps he would gain pleasure from seeing me fail.’ Lumière cursed the messenger in his head. ‘What a sadistic bastard.’
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So, Lumière settled on what seemed like the only logical course of action. Wherever the source of ‘fear’ originated from, it still remained a fact that it was present. As it didn’t seem to come from the creature itself, he guessed that it would be able to be affected by the dreadful tremours that he had dismissed earlier. So, Lumière pulled up his sleeve and placed his palm against the ground as the creature swiveled its head to meet his gaze. Gaining a general understanding of his abilities had also granted him a semblance of understanding as to how to summon them, notwithstanding the lack of knowledge as to the intricacies of it all.
Lumière closed his eyes, ignoring the approach of the beast that had slowed down tremendously due to the poison that had begun to course through its body from Lumière’s poisoned blood. Inside of himself, he could sense the innate energy- the despair that churned in his heart. As if opening a gate, it began to course through his body, making its way through his arm like blood that weighed as heavy as iron, and stood as cold as ice. A dark, malevolent energy settled on his palms, spreading down into the stone ground of the alleyway like tree roots settling in the dirt. Then, suddenly, the beast ceased, as if sensing the preparations Lumière had made.
However, it had been far too late for the beast to react, if it even had the strength remaining to do so. The fear’s origin became far clearer to Lumière as it was amplified by the tremours of despair that erupted from the malevolent roots underneath their feet. It shined like a star that only he could see- as if that star was made of a churning, horrific shadow. Confirming Lumière’s suspicion, it did indeed originate from within the monster, but was not given off by the monster itself. It was as if another creature remained inside the beast, constantly emanating a sense of fear that Lumière had begun to exploit.
With no time to think, Lumière conjured the Fear Transmutation ability he had obtained. The despair that originated from within the monster was immediately dispelled, hurtling towards Lumière in an instant. He froze in place, his gaze fixated on the creature as his pupils shook. He could feel every minute aspect of that feeling, and he was cast into a terrified chain of emotions. He felt the fear of a new world, the fear of going to school, and the fear of growing up. He felt the fear of working, the fear of marriage, and the fear of having children. He felt the fear of growing old, of seeing one’s last sunset, and the fear that one might not be remembered for long.
He felt the fear of a human.
And so Lumière came to a horrific realisation of the origin of the despair he had absorbed, and the only horror that remained after the fear had been transmuted was his own. He stared at the monster, who stared back at him with vacant, longing eyes. For a moment, he saw past the malice and vitriol in its gaze, and saw the true essence of its being.
And before he could think to do anything with the strength he had obtained from the Fear Transmutation, the monster succumbed to the poison blood, its eyes growing glassy and hollow before falling to the ground in a heap, the liquid miasma pooling around its horrifically twisted form. It had been killed.
Then, Lumière stood in silence, staring at the corpse of the beast, his gaze shaking, trembling along with his body.
‘Were you… really a monster?’ Lumière’s mind was racing, churning with a sense of madness and anxiety. He grasped at his hair, brushing it out of his face as his gaze fell to the ground. ‘How much of you was human? Did I just kill a person…? Have I become a murderer…?’
However, his mixed emotions and anxious thoughts didn’t remain for long. After all, the Fear Transmutation spell he had used was mainly meant to offer him strength, but it also gave him increased mental clarity that immediately cleared up his hazy mind. Lumière took a step back, still staring at the corpse of the creature as he let out a long breath, the weight on his heart escaping with it.
‘Is this what Thomas Hawthorne meant by needing the resolve to become an abomination? By accepting this power, am I now on a path where I must do horrible things? Is this the path of the Sinner, the true cost of the contract, to be tied to the fate of a terrible person?’ Lumière grimaced, clenching his teeth. He felt anger rise up in his chest. ‘So, Thomas must have known that this creature was human. That’s why he called it a profane amalgamation. Whatever it is, he knew that I would kill it in order to save those two. My hands are stained with blood. If I were a selfless person, perhaps I could justify it, but in the end, I only saved those two in order to quell the guilt of using them for my own gain. All I did was kill for the sake of myself. How can I justify that?’
Blood continued to drip down Lumière’s arm, fresh from the wound he had inflicted on himself in order to seal the contract with the evil deity known as the Sinner. Moreover, the wounds he had sustained to his leg when holding open the mouth of the human-amalgamation still continued to stain his trousers with crimson. When he had regained his calm with the help of the Fear Transmutation spell, he simultaneously lost the adrenaline that had kept him steady, and now pain pulsed through his entire body.
With resolve, he left the corpse of the human-amalgamation behind in the alleyway, limping along the street.
The only thought that remained in his mind was the thought of returning home.