58 | roses; no escape

[ding! message from lukiyo...]

I'm genuinely a fool omg T^T I was so confused, because today's my first day off of the week, and I was thinking, no it can't be because today's Sunday, and then I got confused?? Then, I realized I had to upload, and I checked the date for the last update and it was on Tuesday???

I was just living in the future this week, I suppose?? Ahhhhhh

Well, on an unrelated note, I started reading this interesting novel called Undead (zombie apocalypse x ABO verse) and it's pretty good so far?? I'm only 13 chapters in, but the MC is pretty skilled and cool, I'm already in love~

But yes! This author needs a smacking on the head, and I'm very sorry for the confusion if you realized!! Hope your first week of 2023 has been an absolute dream~!

———XXX———

Wren slammed her fists over the doors violently, stabbing out a foot to attempt to smash it open by force. Of course, it was futile. Something barred them inside, a magic that cursed them to remain prisoners of the castle.

She glanced over at Lucas, who watched deeply through cloudy eyes in silent rumination. Even the woman could tell that his mood was wavering in unease.

There was a sense of urgency in his movements. She'd watched his performance in other Stories; she knew that he preferred to take his time. In fact, discovering the True Story behind everything seemed to be something he took an interest in.

Unexpectedly, that cold-faced delinquent was one that held a deep curiosity and understanding in emotions.

The solemn and despairing scene of the children's wailing surrounding the dimly lit room, as Lucas stared with an empty set of eyes at nothing in the distance, remained vivid in her mind.

He did not cry; he did not react. That was more terrifying than the tears she listened to, in seething anger at her lack of power.

"Why do you keep staring at me?" wondered Lucas suddenly, raising his eyebrows slightly as he crossed his arms.

Wren scoffed. "Why would I stare at your ugly mug?"

"Ugly is a subjective opinion of yours, and your opinion is wrong."

"....." She felt a little speechless, especially when his lips moved with such irritating words, yet his expression remained as impassive as ever.

Then she realized her regretful mood had been disrupted by his sudden speech, and felt even more uncomfortable. Being stared at those translucent white eyes was unnerving, as if she were exposed to the bone.

Her eyes trailed down, to the little boy who had clung to Lucas like glue since discovering the empty bed.

She had a feeling that if Lucas were to lift his arm, the boy would lift into the air along with his sleeve and dangle loosely like an accessory.

Lucas had turned his head at some point, looking far into the distance.

Then, he gently shook off Berry's relentless grasp, patting the mound of hair as the child trembled in surprise, and stretched out a stubby hand to grab Lucas again. Lucas stopped him.

"Let me try something. Then, you can grab me as you like."

Berry pouted, dropping his arm as he waited obediently. Will gathered the child closer to him, comforting the frightened boy.

Lucas walked over to a window calmly, betraying no expression.

Wren widened her eyes, something tingling in her head by their faint connection.

He ripped the bottom of his shirt, wrapping it around his fist and slammed it through the glass without hesitation. Berry cried out in surprise as Wren shook her head at his recklessness.

Lucas ignored them, peering at the shards that shattered around his fist, and the wayward pieces of glass that embedded into his skin.

However, the broken glass soon begun to mend itself, while Lucas' fist remained stuck through it. He jerked his arm back hurriedly as the glass gathered together, stretching out in a flimsy film that slowly built into a strong window.

Had he not removed his arm, it may have become a decoration in the window.

Wren cursed. "Are you stupid? You could be eaten alive by the castle's tricks—don't think that I'm joking."

"It was the last option, and now I've confirmed it."

"Ha? Confirmed what?"

Lucas turned around, slivers of shattered glass gleaming on the carpet behind him. His reflection, vaguely seen in the window, also turned around and stared blankly.

"That there's no way to escape."

Will's tired eyes opened wide in terror. "How... will we... all die...?"

Lucas shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "No, it means that the way to escape can't be found if we keep searching. It's to destroy the thing keeping us here."

Wren understood in an instant, laughing wryly as if it were a poor joke. "You want to kill Maleficent. Or I assume that's who the Teller is playing as."

"I'll investigate further tonight and determine if that's the only option."

"Investigating alone? I was right—you have a death wish, don't you? I can't say I'm interested in helping you achieve it, bastard."

Wren clicked her tongue in annoyance. Since she'd even went out of the way to speak to Kane, the wonderful existence Lucas sought to protect, she felt more obligated to keep this death-seeking bond of hers alive.

The more she watched Lucas, the more aware she became of vague, unclear memories lost in the back of her head.

She'd watched that man die before.

And preventing that could become crucial for the sake of this world.

Lucas lifted his gaze, tinted with exhaustion and a faded sorrow that disappeared quickly after. "I will not die until I've accomplished my goals."

"And what is that?"

"To save my—"

"Your?"

Lucas fell silent, like a machine that had broken at random. His mind blanked, and his eyes became dull as a faint pain threatened to make its way back into his mind, digging and prodding inside of him.

How could Wren not noticed the discomfort that flashed in his eyes, the glimpse of pain ever so present? She sighed. "Well, do whatever you want. I won't stop you."

She looked down at his limp hand, hanging at his side. It seemed desolate and hopeless, swaying as his expression remained still.

"Ahh, how annoying! Seriously!" Wren resisted the urge to slap him before saying, "For now, let's explore as a group a little more. I'll make sure they all go to sleep later—at least, my ability helps me with that. Even if can't guarantee they'll remain asleep."

Lucas gave her a look as if saying, 'that's all your ability can do?' and Wren took a genuine step to beat the man before her.

He blinked, and apologized in a deadpanned voice, "Sorry, a habit."

"...what a talent, to provoke somebody with just your face."

"It can't be helped if they envy my face."

Wren clicked her tongue again. "I can't believe I almost felt bad for an idiot like you. Go and die, whatever. I don't care."

Lucas raised his eyebrows in a silent affirmation, before turning around to continue as his own pace while Berry rushed up to collect his spot beside the man. In the novel he wrote, she was a crazy and unpredictable existence.

But she had been one that spent her madness alone, in a society she didn't belong anymore, after her humanity had been stripped away.

Betrayed by the person she adored the most.

Such a person liked to say whatever she pleased, and he had no doubt that her developed cruelty had been a necessity in order to survive. But Wren wasn't heartless; Lucas knew that as a fact.

It was a relief. Because even if he ended up dying in this Story, he believed she would try to save at least some of the children.

Unlike a certain man, who only moved for his own pleasure or amusement.

As he thought that, the scene of that ridiculous man pushing him out of that crumpling house, lost behind shut doors, appeared in his mind. The look of confusion that over took the elegant features, warped in surprise.

It created an error in Lucas' judement of that man.

"......"

Will pulled Lucas back from hitting a table in his distraction, the gloomy teenager lifting his chin to a grand painting before him.

There was an eerie feeling of the eyes trailing after their every turn, painted with such realism that one might suspect a real person to have been captured in the image. The deep brown table stood before it, with two tall standing candles on silver holds.

The corner had begun to chip away, peeling at the pain as a light layer of dust covered it, making it seem somber and obscure.

In it, a beautiful woman stood at the side of a large, straight-faced elder man sitting on a throne, with his proud crown sitting on his neatly combed hair. They stared off into the viewer, pupils shifting.

Lucas walked to the side, and the open eyes followed him. The woman's smile seemed to deepen, an illusion of warped glee.

"...Maleficent and the King?" muttered Lucas quietly, under his breath.

The most prominent thing, aside from the woman's startling green eyes, was a viscous gash that tore through where the King sat. A strange coat of rusted colour tinted the unfurled edges.

Lucas shuddered, as if a chilling wind rushed through his body, penetrating his skin and bones. He spun his head around naturally, alert.

There wasn't a person in sight, down the cold, empty hall.

Then, a flash of golden hair spun around the corner, a ghost in his vision. So brief, he would've missed it with a single blink.

Wren spoke before he could consider asking. "I saw it too. The golden hair."

Will glanced at the two adults, his gloomy air darkening. "...there is... nobody with golden hair..."

None of the children nor Maleficent herself possessed hair of such a striking gold. Seemingly natural, but also fake—as if it were a shade that could only be created in paint.

"Should we follow the little golden stalker?" wondered Wren loudly, purposely projecting her voice so that anybody listening would hear.

Lucas stared absentmindedly, and frowned the longer his eyes remained on the empty hallway. He had a terrible premonition—that they'd find something they didn't want to see if they went around.

"Wren, stay with the children. If a single one of them is missing, it'll be on you."

"Ha? As if the great me would lose a child!" scoffed Wren as she gathered the watching children into a small group, ushering him away. She didn't know what Lucas intended to do, but wouldn't stop him.

What reason did she sign a contract with the human so easily?

Though revenge on her ex-lover was tempting, and also entirely fulfilling, it wasn't something she wouldn't be able to do on her own if she really sought for it.

But she had a feeling that Lucas would be the one to change the course of this apocalypse, and create an ending that didn't end in death and collapse. Well, if he couldn't do anything, the world would likely just reset again.

She couldn't find the culprit behind the restarting world—which meant it was an existence far beyond her ability. An inhumane creature, perhaps.

'Hmm...' thought Wren distractedly, as she tugged a stray child by the collar and stuffed them back into the little protection circle. 'I'd like to see an alien, if possible.'

'Would they be strange shapes and colours... could I eat them..."

Lucas watched her dazed expression, concluding that she was likely thinking stupid thoughts, as people often did. He turned to walk away, before the gloomy teenager approached him with a deep, depressed gaze.

The deaths had weighed on Will the most heavily.

"...Let me... go with you..."

Lucas didn't reject him outright. "It's dangerous. I won't take responsibility for a brat like you, if you follow me behind."

"I can create... a barrier... temporarily..." insisted Will.

Lucas recalled the shield that had enveloped the hospital. It wasn't as if using abilities given by Stories came without exhaustion or any cost—the teenager's tired appearance was likely due to him overexerting his powers.

Of course, Will's health was poor to begin with, but his condition should've improved dramatically with the benefits of completing Stories.

He stared into the turbulent gaze of the youth, and fell silent.

The determination even at the cost of his life—a desperation to protect the remaining children—his family. Lucas realized slowly, that the young teenager knew that he was ruining his body to shield them.

And he didn't care.

Lucas turned away. "If you insist on following, then follow."

There was a stubbornness in that youth that Lucas knew well. Because it was the same reckless determination he'd had all those years ago, when he left the warmth of his home and escaped into the dead night.

His thoughts stalled once again, memories a blur as a rush of pain quickly enveloped him, preventing him from thinking of anything else.

Lucas stumbled, clutching his head.

The warmth of his home... it died along with his parents, in their graves. There was nothing left for him after, and he had been alone. Always.

"....."

Will looked over at the pained expression on the usually aloof adult and frowned. "Are you... alright?"

Lucas blinked away the stars in his vision, voice a little hoarse. He wasn't a fool; his strange condition when attempting to remember the past was abnormal. Something was blocking him.

"...I'm fine. Let's go, before the cursed banquet begins."

Will peered at him with a semblance of worry, but said nothing to pry. Their relationship wasn't close enough to speak of personal matters.

Turning down the hallway, there was no sight of life or people, only crusted stains that tainted the peeling walls, and the scraping branches against the glass. The candles that hung against the wall cast a dim light along the empty hall.

The floorboards creaked slowly under the pair's feet, before Will noticed a door left slightly ajar.

"Lucas." called out the teenager in a low, tentative voice.

The man stopped and glanced over, squinting to see better. The crack of darkness that loomed behind the gap felt ominous, and left one peering in it to feel uneasy.

Lucas' frown deepened as he walked closer, checking that there wasn't a person slipping and hiding within the darkness, watching from the cracks. Seeing the teenager trail behind him without hesitation, he warned a last time,

"The sight that is behind this may be something you won't ever be able to forget."

Will's gloomy gaze fixated, flickering with a brief glimpse of fear before returning to a steady calm. He lifted his youthful head, blinking slowly. "Do you... think I should... turn back?"

The answer came with a harsh honesty. "I do."

Encourage teenagers to walk to their deaths with no mind for consequence? He wouldn't do such a thing—however, he wouldn't stop them either.

"But, if you want to protect those children, then turning away from horrors will be your biggest regret."

Perhaps continuing to walk towards destruction and terrors was a foolish act of pure stupidity, sheer stubbornness that led to nothing. But if their resolution was that firm, then who was he to deny it?

Will stared, swallowing before nodding. "Then... I'll follow you."

For the sake of the children—his family—he was willing to stake his life.

"I see." Lucas turned around after confirming, and pulled the door open quickly, spinning a knife he'd sneaked out of dining hall earlier. The hall wasn't locked, and the knives weren't moving so he'd simply taken one.

He squinted in the darkness as a chilling wind trickled by his neck, rushing into the room. With a creak, the flames flickered to life atop a high chandelier. His foot pushed against a strange, gritting texture that scraped against the floor.

Lucas turned his head away from the sudden onslaught of light, his vision adjusting to the swaying white glow as he turned his head down.

He recoiled.

On the pure white carpet, in a blooming burst of blood, two children laid in opposite directions, with their heads beside each other. Their eyes remained captured in wide fear while they stayed motionless.

Flowers petaled around them, shrouding them in a layer of delicate roses that rooted in their bleeding stomach, merged with their flimsy skin.

And their limp hands, only centimeters apart from each other.

Beside him, Will's eyes snapped wide as a tremble started at his fingers, forcing a terrible shiver through his bones.

"...t-the... brothers..."