Elze spoke. Sybil's eyelids fluttered at the sound of her voice, which he had not heard in several days. It was a condition that had not improved despite dozens of treatments. The doctor said that she had suffered from aphasia due to her daughter's death. He said that it was a mental problem and that she needed to rest sufficiently in a stable environment. Sybil only let her go after she lost her speech.
If Else could speak again, if he could find the space in her heart to accept him, he would do anything. But...
'Was it this easy?'
He said that there was not much difference in the reports that came in yesterday. He was talking about Else's illness. He said that aphasia is not an illness that can be easily cured, so it requires constant attention and affection. However, Else, who wanted Sibyl's death, was talking too easily. A low laugh escaped her lips.
“You have no right to mourn my daughter, Sybil.”
He looked down at the pocket knife that had fallen to the ground. He wondered where she had gotten it. He certainly couldn't have gotten it from inside the villa.
“Where did you find this? I told them not to leave sharp things within reach.”
Sibyl picked up the sword. Else just looked at him expressionlessly.
“You shouldn’t be there watching that woman die...”
“Don’t ever pick up something like this again.”
“She should have been beheaded on the spot.”
Tears welled up in Else's eyes. She chewed and spat out each syllable, full of venom, as if she were gnawing at her brain. Sibyl held the knife tightly, then approached her and wiped away her tears.
“I don’t feel satisfied even when I look at that girl’s neck.”
“Do you have a fever? How’s your throat?”
Sybil stroked her cheek with a soft expression. Else glared at him with hatred and slapped his hand away fiercely. The wetness under her eyes trembled. She wanted to kill him. When she thought of Hermi, when she thought of the day she left Else, she felt like tearing off his face alive and burning it.
“...I wish I could just die.”
The fingers that were thrown into the air curled up. Sybil looked down at the face that was distorted with anger. The sharp blade grazed his wrist. It wasn’t bad. Cold and distant. The bottom of the abyss that the piece of iron brought was sweet.
“Come here.”
He looked into Else's eyes, which were wet and full of energy, and called her. Else just stood there with her hair up like a small cat cornered. Sybil smiled harmlessly. When he pulled his lips loosely, Else trembled again. It seemed like he thought she was being relaxed. However...
“I'll give you what you want.”
He just doesn't want to distort it. He just doesn't want to respond to Else's anger with anger. He doesn't want to distort his skin and show his desolate heart. He wants her to know that he's suffering... He wants to find fault with her. He decided not to show it. He didn't plan on showing it anymore.
She was already a woman whose bottom was exposed because of him. She had no more understanding or love left to draw from, as the sun had set. Sibyl held out his left hand. Else just stared at him blankly. He grabbed the wrist of the woman who neither retreated nor approached him and pulled gently. Else shook him off and twisted her arm, but she became quiet when Sibyl gave him a knife.
“When you cut your wrist, you hold the knife like this.”
After fixing the knife that she was not holding correctly, he gently wrapped the back of her hand. Else’s breathing was trembling. Sybil looked into her emerald eyes. At this moment, he wanted to lick her moist eyes. He put them in his mouth and rolled them with his tongue, and her eyes were sweet and thick like round sugar crystals...
He grabbed Else's hand tightly as she tried to throw away the knife. He pulled the woman who was trying not to be dragged closer. Else's hand trembled miserably. Her eyes, which had been filled with thin tears, were now wet. She was endlessly lovely. She was so overwhelmingly lovely that even as the blade cut through his skin, he didn't feel any pain.
“...I don’t like it! Ah...”
“No. I don’t hate it, Else. This is what you wanted. I feel the pain you felt.”
Sibyl smiled softly. Else was looking down at her hand, shivering. She was afraid of Sibyl, who was wrapping his arms around her wrist and cutting it in one go. She thought she heard a slicing sound. It couldn't be, but it echoed in her ears like an auditory hallucination.
“Ugh, uh...”
The place where the veins stood out was blue. Blood began to gush out from the forcefully drawn line. It was different from her own, where blood was thinly formed. Even though he had only been cut once, blood began to ooze out from the place where the veins were cut as if they had been ripped.
Else glared at him, pale. Blood flowed from the long, gaping wound and fell to the floor.
If Else could speak again, if he could find the space in her heart to accept him, he would do anything. But...
'Was it this easy?'
He said that there was not much difference in the reports that came in yesterday. He was talking about Else's illness. He said that aphasia is not an illness that can be easily cured, so it requires constant attention and affection. However, Else, who wanted Sibyl's death, was talking too easily. A low laugh escaped her lips.
“You have no right to mourn my daughter, Sybil.”
He looked down at the pocket knife that had fallen to the ground. He wondered where she had gotten it. He certainly couldn't have gotten it from inside the villa.
“Where did you find this? I told them not to leave sharp things within reach.”
Sibyl picked up the sword. Else just looked at him expressionlessly.
“You shouldn’t be there watching that woman die...”
“Don’t ever pick up something like this again.”
“She should have been beheaded on the spot.”
Tears welled up in Else's eyes. She chewed and spat out each syllable, full of venom, as if she were gnawing at her brain. Sibyl held the knife tightly, then approached her and wiped away her tears.
“I don’t feel satisfied even when I look at that girl’s neck.”
“Do you have a fever? How’s your throat?”
Sybil stroked her cheek with a soft expression. Else glared at him with hatred and slapped his hand away fiercely. The wetness under her eyes trembled. She wanted to kill him. When she thought of Hermi, when she thought of the day she left Else, she felt like tearing off his face alive and burning it.
“...I wish I could just die.”
The fingers that were thrown into the air curled up. Sybil looked down at the face that was distorted with anger. The sharp blade grazed his wrist. It wasn’t bad. Cold and distant. The bottom of the abyss that the piece of iron brought was sweet.
“Come here.”
He looked into Else's eyes, which were wet and full of energy, and called her. Else just stood there with her hair up like a small cat cornered. Sybil smiled harmlessly. When he pulled his lips loosely, Else trembled again. It seemed like he thought she was being relaxed. However...
“I'll give you what you want.”
He just doesn't want to distort it. He just doesn't want to respond to Else's anger with anger. He doesn't want to distort his skin and show his desolate heart. He wants her to know that he's suffering... He wants to find fault with her. He decided not to show it. He didn't plan on showing it anymore.
She was already a woman whose bottom was exposed because of him. She had no more understanding or love left to draw from, as the sun had set. Sibyl held out his left hand. Else just stared at him blankly. He grabbed the wrist of the woman who neither retreated nor approached him and pulled gently. Else shook him off and twisted her arm, but she became quiet when Sibyl gave him a knife.
“When you cut your wrist, you hold the knife like this.”
After fixing the knife that she was not holding correctly, he gently wrapped the back of her hand. Else’s breathing was trembling. Sybil looked into her emerald eyes. At this moment, he wanted to lick her moist eyes. He put them in his mouth and rolled them with his tongue, and her eyes were sweet and thick like round sugar crystals...
He grabbed Else's hand tightly as she tried to throw away the knife. He pulled the woman who was trying not to be dragged closer. Else's hand trembled miserably. Her eyes, which had been filled with thin tears, were now wet. She was endlessly lovely. She was so overwhelmingly lovely that even as the blade cut through his skin, he didn't feel any pain.
“...I don’t like it! Ah...”
“No. I don’t hate it, Else. This is what you wanted. I feel the pain you felt.”
Sibyl smiled softly. Else was looking down at her hand, shivering. She was afraid of Sibyl, who was wrapping his arms around her wrist and cutting it in one go. She thought she heard a slicing sound. It couldn't be, but it echoed in her ears like an auditory hallucination.
“Ugh, uh...”
The place where the veins stood out was blue. Blood began to gush out from the forcefully drawn line. It was different from her own, where blood was thinly formed. Even though he had only been cut once, blood began to ooze out from the place where the veins were cut as if they had been ripped.
Else glared at him, pale. Blood flowed from the long, gaping wound and fell to the floor.
Pitter-patter.
The sticky, pungent blood stained Else and Sibyl’s hands. Her stomach turned. Else began to cry with a miserable expression.
"Sorry."
A dry whisper that doesn't feel high or low. Wanting nothing. Not a conditional apology, but a sincere apology. The tears that flowed down gathered between her closed lips. Else looked at the blood that was continuously accumulating between her folded hands.
It was different from her, who dug into her wrist until it was crushed and cut. She couldn't tell how deeply it was cut. Her head started spinning when she thought about it. It wasn't her wrist that was cut, but it felt like her heel was cut and bleeding.
“Stop, stop, please...”
Else twisted her hand to get away from him. She didn't want to hold the knife anymore. Looking at his wrist dripping red blood, she wanted to throw the knife away. She didn't know why. Nothing appealed to her. When she saw Henrietta's severed head, she felt suffocated. If Sybil died. No, if she cut his neck or his hand, her blocked psyche would clear up. But she was miserable. She wanted to scream. She would hit him and scratch him in anger... But it didn't get any better.
“Die. Die. You little shit. You little shit...!”
Else, who had been twitching her lips and grumbling, began to punch his chest with her free hand. His injured wrist shook and fell to the floor. Else's hand, which had been held, was freed. The blood that had been flowing down splattered and scattered on the floor. Else collapsed at the sight.
“...I don’t like it. I don’t like it!”
Else, who was screaming out of her mind, was hugged by Sybil. He lowered his posture, grabbed Else's shoulder, and looked at her. Else was angry but sad. Her fingers, each joint white, tried to caress his wrist.
Sybil felt like crying. He felt so sorry for the woman who was trembling and holding onto his arm that he felt like his insides were going to burst. Why. Why on earth... She was the woman who should have died on the spot where Henrietta’s neck and torso were separated. But Else was sitting down and holding onto his wrist.
“Oh, what should I do? What should I do...”
He grabbed the shoulder of the woman who was muttering like a crazy person. The white chemise dress with delicately embroidered flower patterns was stained with blood. From the hem of the dress to the puffy sleeves. Covered in blood, Else looked like a survivor from a murder scene.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, Else.”
The woman who had been holding his wrist let out a suppressed breath. Sibyl lifted the slender woman’s chin to look at him. Tears were welling up in her hazy eyes. Sibyl placed his lips on the corner of her eyes and kissed her beautiful lips.
Else, who was so out of her mind that she didn't even know what she was saying, mixed her tongue with his kiss. The soft flesh filled her mouth and comforted her. She thought of Hermi. She pushed away the firm chest so that it couldn't stick to her anymore and looked at him as she pulled her lips away with difficulty.
She wanted to kill him... She was afraid of him dying. She wanted him to die, but she was afraid of him dying. Beating and breaking... She thought of the man who had dug into her without showing even a single grain of his delicate emotions. Don’t take Hermi. Please. It was Else who had been begging for that child to be left behind.
"No."
"I know."
“I hate you. I wish you would just die. Ugh, huff...”
"Sorry."
Else shook her head. He didn't know anything. He would never know Else's heart even if he died. How much Else was suffering and hurt. Just as he didn't know Else's love for Hermi, he didn't know her heart that was dug up either.
“You don’t know. You don’t know me. I, I...”
Else, Else… … . She hated herself for not being able to kill him. She hated herself for not being able to cut him off. She was pathetic and foolish. She had to get revenge on Hermi. That way, she could meet Hermi and apologize to her. Becoming a mother...
“I hate myself for hating you so much. I feel terrible for not being able to cut you off.”
Does she still love Sybil? It can't be. After all the things she's done to him. After all the things he's done to her in the name of love... She was about to get raped at Hermi's funeral. She couldn't shake him off, so she had to show her daughter that dirty sight.
There was no way love could remain after something like that. Only an idiot could love a person like this. In that case, it would be better to die. It would be better to die than to continue living a miserable life, pretending to love a person like this.
"Sorry."
A dry whisper that doesn't feel high or low. Wanting nothing. Not a conditional apology, but a sincere apology. The tears that flowed down gathered between her closed lips. Else looked at the blood that was continuously accumulating between her folded hands.
It was different from her, who dug into her wrist until it was crushed and cut. She couldn't tell how deeply it was cut. Her head started spinning when she thought about it. It wasn't her wrist that was cut, but it felt like her heel was cut and bleeding.
“Stop, stop, please...”
Else twisted her hand to get away from him. She didn't want to hold the knife anymore. Looking at his wrist dripping red blood, she wanted to throw the knife away. She didn't know why. Nothing appealed to her. When she saw Henrietta's severed head, she felt suffocated. If Sybil died. No, if she cut his neck or his hand, her blocked psyche would clear up. But she was miserable. She wanted to scream. She would hit him and scratch him in anger... But it didn't get any better.
“Die. Die. You little shit. You little shit...!”
Else, who had been twitching her lips and grumbling, began to punch his chest with her free hand. His injured wrist shook and fell to the floor. Else's hand, which had been held, was freed. The blood that had been flowing down splattered and scattered on the floor. Else collapsed at the sight.
“...I don’t like it. I don’t like it!”
Else, who was screaming out of her mind, was hugged by Sybil. He lowered his posture, grabbed Else's shoulder, and looked at her. Else was angry but sad. Her fingers, each joint white, tried to caress his wrist.
Sybil felt like crying. He felt so sorry for the woman who was trembling and holding onto his arm that he felt like his insides were going to burst. Why. Why on earth... She was the woman who should have died on the spot where Henrietta’s neck and torso were separated. But Else was sitting down and holding onto his wrist.
“Oh, what should I do? What should I do...”
He grabbed the shoulder of the woman who was muttering like a crazy person. The white chemise dress with delicately embroidered flower patterns was stained with blood. From the hem of the dress to the puffy sleeves. Covered in blood, Else looked like a survivor from a murder scene.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, Else.”
The woman who had been holding his wrist let out a suppressed breath. Sibyl lifted the slender woman’s chin to look at him. Tears were welling up in her hazy eyes. Sibyl placed his lips on the corner of her eyes and kissed her beautiful lips.
Else, who was so out of her mind that she didn't even know what she was saying, mixed her tongue with his kiss. The soft flesh filled her mouth and comforted her. She thought of Hermi. She pushed away the firm chest so that it couldn't stick to her anymore and looked at him as she pulled her lips away with difficulty.
She wanted to kill him... She was afraid of him dying. She wanted him to die, but she was afraid of him dying. Beating and breaking... She thought of the man who had dug into her without showing even a single grain of his delicate emotions. Don’t take Hermi. Please. It was Else who had been begging for that child to be left behind.
"No."
"I know."
“I hate you. I wish you would just die. Ugh, huff...”
"Sorry."
Else shook her head. He didn't know anything. He would never know Else's heart even if he died. How much Else was suffering and hurt. Just as he didn't know Else's love for Hermi, he didn't know her heart that was dug up either.
“You don’t know. You don’t know me. I, I...”
Else, Else… … . She hated herself for not being able to kill him. She hated herself for not being able to cut him off. She was pathetic and foolish. She had to get revenge on Hermi. That way, she could meet Hermi and apologize to her. Becoming a mother...
“I hate myself for hating you so much. I feel terrible for not being able to cut you off.”
Does she still love Sybil? It can't be. After all the things she's done to him. After all the things he's done to her in the name of love... She was about to get raped at Hermi's funeral. She couldn't shake him off, so she had to show her daughter that dirty sight.
There was no way love could remain after something like that. Only an idiot could love a person like this. In that case, it would be better to die. It would be better to die than to continue living a miserable life, pretending to love a person like this.
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