Bell’s breath hitched.
His newly regrown eye reflected Cecilia’s face with perfect clarity.
That distorted, fanatical face, stained with his blood.
“Brother, don’t be afraid.”
“See? In this world, even this is possible.”
Her words were like the sweetest poison, pouring into his ears and corroding the last of his sanity.
The wind continued to howl at the top of the clock tower.
Cecilia looked at the bloodstains on her pure white nightgown with a hint of distaste, then reached out to touch the drying blood on her cheek.
She wrinkled her nose.
Bell thought she would use her sleeve to wipe it away.
However, she did not.
A whisper of wind appeared out of nowhere, gently brushing over her cheek and the hem of her dress.
Those bright red stains belonging to Bell quickly dried in the wind, turning into crimson dust that was swept away into the night without a trace.
Next, a sphere of pure water the size of a fist hovered before her.
She leaned her face toward it, letting the water move like a living thing, softly washing away the last bit of filth.
Under her control, the water sphere rolled across her cheeks before splitting into a small stream to wash her hands clean.
Once finished, the slightly murky water evaporated instantly in the air, without a single drop falling.
Water and wind.
She had used them to perform an exquisite cleaning magic.
Watching this, Bell felt as if all his strength had been drained.
That was not magic for combat.
That was lifestyle magic.
Her control over the elements had reached such an unfathomable level.
This monster... she had no limits.
As Cecilia finished her cleaning, the four invisible gales binding Bell’s limbs quietly dissipated.
The restraints vanished.
Bell’s body lost its support and fell heavily from midair, slamming onto the cold, hard stone floor.
Thud!
The sound of bone hitting stone was dull and heavy.
It was painful.
But compared to the agony of having his eye gouged out alive just moments ago, it was barely worth mentioning.
He curled up on the floor like a shucked shrimp, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.
He wanted to crawl.
He wanted to flee.
But his limbs were as limp as mud, refusing to obey.
Cecilia’s feet landed softly back on the ground.
She made no sound, walking toward the curled up Bell like a ghost, one slow step at a time.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Every step felt like it was treading on Bell’s heart.
Fear gripped his soul, leaving him unable to even whimper.
She stopped in front of him.
Bell squeezed his eyes shut, not daring to look at her.
He could feel her shadow looming over him.
He waited, expecting the next wave of pain, the next torture.
However, the anticipated agony did not come.
A pair of hands, gentle and filled with a trace of pity, lifted him from the floor.
Then, a warm, soft body, carrying the scent of milk and flowers, embraced him.
Cecilia held him.
Bell’s body was as stiff as a stone.
He could feel the warmth of her body, the honey gold hair brushing against his cheek, the steady beat of her heart...
All of this should have been beautiful.
But at this moment, it terrified him more than any torture.
His stomach churned, and a wave of nausea made him want to vomit, but he didn't dare.
He feared that any sign of resistance would invite even more horrific treatment.
“Brother...”
Cecilia’s satisfied sigh echoed in his ear.
Her voice carried a hint of trembling, a long suppressed euphoria.
“Can you feel it?”
Her arms tightened, nearly suffocating him.
“My love for you.”
She wasn't asking.
She was stating a fact.
She was forcing him to acknowledge it.
Bell’s teeth chattered uncontrollably, clattering together.
Love?
This was what she called love?
Imprisoning him, torturing him, toying with him in the palm of her hand, treating his body like a toy to be plucked and reshaped at will...
This was... love?
Fear, pain, absurdity, despair...
All these emotions intertwined, completely shattering his fragile mental defenses.
He was like a cat drenched by a rainstorm, chased by a beast, shivering in a corner.
The slightest movement would cause him to break down completely.
“Speak, Brother.”
Cecilia seemed dissatisfied at not getting the answer she wanted.
She tightened her embrace even further.
“Do you feel it?”
“I...”
A broken syllable escaped Bell’s trembling lips.
His mind was a blank, all capacity for thought swallowed by terror.
He could only follow her lead and give the answer she wanted to hear.
It was an instinct.
The most humble instinct for survival in the face of absolute violence and terror.
“I... I...”
He repeated, his voice so weak it was barely audible.
“I feel it...”
Hearing this answer, Cecilia was finally satisfied.
She relaxed her grip slightly, stroking his back with an almost prayerful devotion.
“That’s good.”
“I knew you loved me.”
She spoke to herself, completely immersed in her own world.
“In our past life, you never understood. You always wanted to run.”
“It’s alright. In this life, we have a very, very long time.”
“Little by little, I’ll make you understand. I’ll make you accept it... I’ll make you fall as crazily in love with me as I am with you.”
Her hand moved slowly from his back up to the nape of his neck.
Her cold fingertips traced his skin, sending shivers through him.
“Brother, you’re so good.”
She nuzzled into his chest like a small animal.
“You’re mine.”
“All of you is mine.”
Bell remained motionless, letting her do as she pleased.
His spirit was dead.
Right here, at the top of the clock tower, it had been murdered by the demon he called his sister.
Cecilia seemed finally satisfied with this long awaited embrace.
She pulled back slightly, but her hands remained on his shoulders, giving him no chance to escape.
She tilted her innocent face up, her obsidian eyes shining brilliantly in the night.
Looking at Bell’s bloodless face, etched with numbness and terror, she suddenly broke into a radiant smile.
“Brother, you looked so cute just now.”
“Like a frightened kitten.”
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