TTRIA 63 – END.

And everything went dark.

It would be a lie to say it was not difficult.

Time and again, his mind broke, and he wanted to give up on everything. If he had been alone, he might have really done so. But whenever he met Cecil’s blue eyes, Jeff, surprisingly, could pull himself together. To collapse like this, was not the life he had enjoyed with him outside too sweet?

There were still so many things he had not done. Foods he had not tried, places he had not been. He did not get tired of strolling in the lakeside park, he enjoyed going out to choose dinner after work and eating at a restaurant he liked, and the time spent listening to the performances of street musicians was so happy.

There were many movies he wanted to see and books he wanted to read, and much music he wanted to listen to, and above all, he had not yet earned enough money to put a violin in his hands.

Just thinking about that, Jeff could strengthen his will. I must put the violin I took from him back in his hands. I’ll find a violin that suits him and help him play to his heart’s content. And while listening to his performance, I’ll do anything.

Reading a book would be nice, and cooking would be nice too. Brushing Ego’s fur would be nice, and just taking a quiet nap would be nice too.

Ah… really, there were too many things he wanted to do to just give up like this. And it was the first time he had ever felt so earnestly that he wanted to do something. Why did he only now realize that such a trivial daily life was so precious?

Regret created a ripple in his heart. It was painful, but the thread woven with will, though it might wear down and fray, would never break. If he did not want to suffer anymore, he had to escape this situation. That was not something that could be ended simply by running away. Running away solves nothing.

There was only one choice left. To eliminate the source that was tormenting them.

Jeff decided to kill Wayne Gray.

Fortunately, Cecil, who he had worried might waver, also agreed with Jeff’s opinion. Cecil, too, no longer had any intention of being subservient to Wayne and being swayed by him. For the sake of the body he was borrowing, he could not die so foolishly like this. Jeff, seeing the change in Cecil’s eyes, carefully made a plan.

The most important thing was.

“We have to make Wayne let his guard down.”

To create a gap in Wayne’s eyes and mind. All the plans converged on that one thing. However, it was not as simple as he thought. Wayne was the master of the mansion and an absolute being. His eyes were constantly moving, monitoring everything, and his suspicion was like a needle that pierced coldly and sharply. To deceive such a Wayne, simple acting was not enough.

Jeff had to become helplessness itself.

Every movement, every expression, every breath had to be a convincing performance. He had to disguise himself so that in Wayne’s eyes, Jeff Lowell would become a meaningless being. The fortunate thing was that the environment he was given made this possible.

Jeff had actually attempted to escape several times, but failed each time. His struggling in Wayne’s grasp was a genuine truth, and that was sufficient evidence to prove his helplessness. Because failure made him look weaker. It became a perfect curtain to hide his inner plan.

But Jeff knew. That this was not enough. Wayne’s suspicion would not disappear easily. A more thorough and fatal method was needed to draw out his carelessness. What came to mind then was self-harm.

The first time he cut his own body, Jeff felt it instinctively. That this was the surest way to deceive Wayne’s eyes.

The pain was excruciating. Every time he tore his flesh and felt the bone-chilling pain, Jeff felt his mind collapsing, one layer at a time. Nevertheless, he could not stop. Pain was necessary to deceive Wayne’s eyes. However—

“I can’t do it. I can’t watch, Jeff. I, I can’t anymore….”

Even though he knew it was a well-written script, Cecil was tormented every time he faced Jeff’s self-harm. Understanding it with his head did not make his heart feel at ease. Cecil was afraid. That Jeff would break down. That his plan would become a trap that ate away at himself. As time went on, it became impossible to tell what was real and what was fake. Despair washed over him every moment he watched Jeff’s self-torment.

That was why, on the contrary, Jeff did not stop.

“You have to endure it, Cecil.”

Because he knew that Cecil’s pain would be the most powerful tool in deceiving Wayne.

Time passed. Jeff gradually reduced the frequency of his self-harm and began to act like a person who had lost all will. A face steeped in resignation, listless movements as if he had lost the meaning of life. All of it eventually contributed to putting Wayne at ease.

And a new full moon night came.

As always, Wayne’s eyes were fixed on the stage. But his gaze was distinctly different from before. Within it, satisfaction, possessiveness, and the arrogance of domination had taken root. Eyes filled with desire greedily swallowed the stage. The moment Jeff met that gaze, he was certain. That carelessness had taken root in Wayne’s mind.

It was an opportunity.

Jeff embraced Cecil, whose face was contorted with tears. He whispered quietly, as if kissing his ear.

“Today is the day.”

It was a decision.

“I’ve hidden a syringe under the bed.”

The syringe that had pierced his skin countless times when he was struggling to escape from the basement. Jeff, even as his consciousness faded, struggled desperately to distract the servants’ attention. And after a few attempts, he succeeded in smuggling out a syringe that was half-filled with the drug.

Jeff imagined it every day, holding it.

“Create an opportunity, somehow. Then I’ll stab Wayne with it.”

The moment he would stab Wayne.

“Can you do it?”

Then, Cecil answered.

“I’ll do it.”

With eyes that no longer wavered, with a determined gaze, he whispered.

“This time, I’ll stab Wayne. So….”

Do not carry the sin all by yourself. Now, I’m prepared too. Whispering so, Cecil kissed him. It was not anyone’s coercion, but a choice he had made himself.

The servant, who came out of the perfumery with a glass bottle, walked quickly down the hallway. Every time the bottle shook, the glass surfaces bumped against each other, making a small sound. Just then, when he saw the master of the house approaching from the end of the hallway, the servant stopped walking and bowed his waist.

“Master, I have brought the glass bottle.”

He carefully held out the bottle, but Wayne just looked down at it without a word. And then he suddenly raised his hand and forcefully struck the bottle away. Crash! The glass bottle, which hit the wall, shattered into pieces. A sharp sound echoed through the hallway.

“Clean it up.”

Wayne’s voice was short and ruthless. The servant hurriedly nodded his head and began to collect the broken glass shards. Wayne’s gaze, as if piercing through his back, seeped into his bones, cold.

“An important guest is scheduled to visit the basement.”

Wayne spat out in a dispassionate voice.

“All servants are to leave the basement.”

At those words, the servant momentarily raised his head. An awkward question appeared on his face. It was because he felt a certain strangeness in Wayne’s voice.

“Is there any problem….”

“Who said you could talk back?”

“I apologize, Master.”

The servant quickly nodded his head and cleaned the floor. Just as he was about to leave, a strange feeling flashed through his mind.

‘Why does the master have that scent?’

But he soon dismissed the thought lightly. Since he was in Cecil’s room, his scent must have rubbed off on him.

As the servant hurriedly left the hallway, Cecil, who was impersonating Wayne, walked quietly. Heading straight for the main building of the mansion, he lightly adjusted the collar of Wayne’s clothes. He had merely changed his clothes and mimicked his expression. But all the servants of the mansion accepted him as Wayne. That was because they were real humans, not ‘insects’. ‘Insects’ like him mostly stayed in the basement.

Cecil, smiling in Wayne’s manner, spoke to a servant at the end of the hallway.

“Could you call Mila and Benjamin to the drawing room?”

“Yes, Master.”

The servant brought the two children without delay. When the door of the drawing room opened and the children entered, the expressions of the two young insects changed subtly. With a single exchange of glances, they realized. That the person in front of them was not Wayne. Cecil quietly looked at the children.

The children looked at each other’s eyes without a word. And they slowly approached Cecil. The shorter of the two, a girl named Mila, looked up at Cecil and asked cautiously.

“Is Mr. Lowell okay?”

The boy, Benjamin, who was holding tightly onto Mila’s sleeve, added on.

“We, we were wor, wor, worried….”

“…….”

Cecil looked down at the two children without a word. ‘Insects’ who had obtained the bodies of children, just like himself. But they did not seem to be the type with strong instincts. Fear and anxiety were faintly nestled in their eyes, and a certain human warmth remained. He might have been able to tell because they were beings with the same essence.

“It’s okay.”

Cecil answered.

“But you must leave this place now.”

“We have to leave?”

The two children made puzzled faces. But soon, after looking at each other’s faces, they nodded their heads as if they had realized something. And Mila held out a small piece of paper to Cecil.

“This is….”

Mila said quietly.

“Inspector Warden came to the mansion with a woman once. But at that time, you were already locked in the basement, so Benjamin and I went to see them instead. The inspector left this then. He said to contact him when we need help. I wanted to give it to you, but I had no way, so I kept it with me.”

Cecil looked down at the paper without a word. Soon, he slowly moved his fingers to fold the note and nodded his head.

“Thank you. Both of you.”

“…No, it is not.”

Mila and Benjamin looked at Cecil for a while. The face of Wayne in front of them, and the unfamiliar warmth visible within it. At that discordant sensation, they wore expressions as if they had witnessed a heterogeneous landscape.

“Are you really alright, Mr. Lowell?”

Mila opened her mouth again. Her voice trembled, but she did not lose her composure until the end.

Cecil, who was staring at them blankly, simply smiled gently. That smile was a definite answer.

“Is it finished?”

When he returned to the basement after finishing his work in the main building, Jeff asked, leaning against the doorway. Cecil nodded his head instead of answering. And he slowly approached and embraced his waist. Jeff, who smiled pleasantly, gently stroked Cecil’s hair and asked.

“Why, are you scared?”

Cecil shook his head.

“No. I’m not scared.”

“Really?”

Jeff let out a small breath. That breath scattered into the air without a trace. After staring into the void for a moment, he leaned his head on Cecil’s shoulder and whispered quietly.

“Actually, I’m scared.”

“…….”

Cecil stroked Jeff’s back instead of answering.

“We’re doing something frightening, aren’t we.”

Jeff, who hesitated for a moment, added in a trembling voice.

“…What if my choice ends up ruining us.”

Upon hearing those words, Cecil slowly pulled away. And he quietly looked at Jeff.

“The day may come when we regret our choice.”

Jeff did not say anything. Cecil’s voice continued.

“But we won’t be broken. Because.”

“…….”

“I won’t let you go.”

Firmness and serenity were simultaneously present in Cecil’s voice. Jeff looked at his face and opened his mouth.

“Even if I’m a monster with blood on my hands?”

Cecil did not hesitate.

“Yes, because I’m the same as you.”

“…….”

“I guess we’ll have to live the rest of our lives atoning.”

Together, as monsters who are by no means flawless. Receiving the judgment for our sins, without letting go of each other. Like that.

“Yes.”

Jeff, who cupped his white cheek, whispered softly.

“Atoning together for the rest of our lives.”

He pulled the warmth into an embrace and kissed him.

Wayne frowned at the splitting headache and slowly opened his eyes. Perhaps due to the effects of the drug, his vision was hazy. Every time he forced his heavy eyelids open, the blurry landscape gradually became clearer. As his consciousness, like a thick fog, slowly cleared, his body began to be filled with a strange sensation.

And soon he realized the situation he was in.

Hard ropes tied around his wrists and ankles, a heavy body that could not move an inch.

He was bound to a chair, looking at the ivory mansion. The red sunset was setting on the mansion’s windows, casting long shadows. Wayne hastily turned his head. The maze that stretched out long behind him came into view. The path of the maze, where darkness was beginning to seep in, was so deep that its end could not be seen, and it was filled with a heavy silence.

“Damn it, what is this…!”

Wayne, who had fallen into confusion, struggled. The ropes were tied tightly and dug deep into his skin. His wrists ached as if they were on fire from the friction, but the knots showed no sign of loosening in the slightest.

“Damn it! Hey, is anyone there!”

Wayne shouted towards the mansion.

“Come here and untie me right now!”

However, only silence returned. The mansion was eerily quiet. Beyond the smooth glass door, not even a shadow of a servant could be seen anywhere. Not even the small noises that should have been heard from inside the mansion could be heard. As if no one was there.

Wayne shouted again.

“Hey! Come out right now! Can’t you hear me? I said come out right now!”

But the mansion still remained silent. His shouts scattered in the air, and instead, a cool silence washed over him again. The setting sun enveloped the mansion in red. That redness was not one of warmth, but rather, it evoked a strange and gloomy feeling, as if blood were seeping in.

“What on earth is this….”

At his own voice, which became a mere echo and disappeared, Wayne suddenly felt fear. As cold sweat flowed down his spine and his breathing became ragged, he felt a presence behind him.

Thump, thump—

It was definitely footsteps. Someone was slowly but surely approaching him.

Wayne quickly turned his head. Two shadows emerged from the darkness of the maze. The shadows grew closer and closer to Wayne, and soon their outlines became clear in the light where the sunset and darkness mixed.

Jeff Lowell. And,

Cecil.

“Cecil! Untie this right now!”

Wayne’s voice trembled with anger. He shouted, shaking his bound body violently, but they stopped in front of him without any agitation.

“Untie me right now! Do you even know what you’re doing?!”

Jeff, who was looking down at Wayne blankly, smiled coldly. That cynical smile further stimulated Wayne’s anger. He twisted his body and shrieked, but Jeff just quietly opened his mouth.

“Do you know about Alan Walker?”

At that name, Wayne’s brow furrowed. He, who had glared fiercely, answered.

“Wasn’t that your uncle’s name?”

Jeff smiled faintly and nodded his head.

“Yes. Alan Walker was my uncle and Hugo’s tutor. And he probably had his body stolen by a talented insect, here.”

At those words, Wayne’s face hardened. His blue eyes wavered, but in the end, he said nothing. Jeff watched the silence coolly and continued.

“I still don’t know how he escaped this mansion and came to us. But what is certain is that this place broke Alan. I was always curious about that. Why he had to come to me and my mother in that state. …Why my mother had to die like that.”

The voice that followed was terribly empty and lonely. Jeff looked at Wayne silently for a moment. And then he asked in a low voice.

“Does the previous generation remember Alan Walker?”

Wayne did not open his mouth. He just glared at Jeff with piercing eyes.

“Yes.”

Jeff lowered his head and laughed self-deprecatingly.

“They wouldn’t remember. Just one shell, no one would remember.”

Jeff, who caught his breath for a moment, raised his head again. His eyes flickered like fire.

“But I remember. Everything that happened here. I will never forget it for the rest of my life.”

Jeff turned his head towards Cecil. Cecil handed him something. It was alcohol and oil brought from the perfumery. The moment he confirmed it, Wayne’s face contorted. He shouted, visibly flustered.

“What are you trying to do! You, what are you doing right now…!”

However, ignoring his shouts, Jeff tilted the bottle. The alcohol and oil flowed down onto Wayne’s head, shoulders, and various parts of his body. The cold liquid seeped in, soaking his clothes. A foul smell spread thickly. Wayne screamed and struggled, but the ropes restraining his hands and feet did not loosen in the slightest.

“Don’t, please, I’m begging you…!”

Wayne shrieked, struggling like a madman.

“Please let me live, if you just let me live, I’ll give you anything you want! Yes, Alan! Alan Walker…! I’ll find the materials on him and hand them over, I’ll give you all the information you want! So please stop, don’t do it…!”

However, Jeff emptied the bottle to the last drop without batting an eye.

“For your information, I’ve also sprinkled oil in the maze.”

Thump. Jeff, who threw the empty bottle under his feet, took out a lighter from his coat. A small flame sparked, cutting through the darkness. The light illuminated Wayne’s face. A terrible fear was present on his pale expression.

“Don’t do it, I said don’t! Cecil, help me, Cecil! Cecil…!”

Jeff took in the sight of Wayne’s desperately contorted face.

The beautiful young master of the house who extended a helping hand to the vagrants on the street and gave opportunities for learning to the poor and talented. The perfumer who created scents that captivated people. But now his face was utterly servile and hideous.

“It’s okay.”

Cecil whispered quietly, holding the hand of Jeff who was staring blankly at Wayne. There was no wavering in his voice. Jeff looked at his blue eyes and silently swallowed his breath. The blue eyes in the portrait that had captured his steps. Looking not at the gloomy, sunken light, but at the transparently shimmering blue light, Jeff slowly nodded his head.

And he turned his head towards Wayne. He lifted the lighter he held in his coat. A small flame flickered as if dancing. And,

“Wayne.”

“Save me, save me, please—!”

To the monster who was howling hideously.

“Rather than the disgusting scent you created—”

He threw the lighter. The object, which cut through the air, fell onto Wayne’s body.

“I would rather choose the smell of the fire that burns everything.”

The flames instantly swallowed Wayne’s body. The fire spread, burning his clothes and flesh. The struggling movements, along with a desperate scream, quickly burned through the ropes. Only then did the body, freed from the restraint of its hands and feet, stand up. As if dancing.

“…….”

There is a black shadow writhing in the roaring flames.

Two eyes, stained by the conflagration, are fixed on the painful dance. They could not turn their heads even when embers flew up. They had to watch the end of the dancing shadow until the very last moment.

And finally, when the flames of the burning maze soared like the sun.

A sharp siren sound echoed from far away. Soon, the backs of two people came into view before the eyes of Neil, who ran over with urgent steps.

Two men standing in the stench of the fire that burns everything.

Neil Warden saw their smiles.