“This isn’t the first time. And it won’t be the last time she dies.”
“……”
“Won’t you tell me how to put an end to it?”
Will you show me some mercy?
But Dullan’s face twisted in agony.
“I-I’ve told you… everything.”
“I see.”
Torture must be administered in stages, from mild to severe, for maximum efficiency. Pouring water into the nostrils or applying mild electric shocks, or lightly rubbing a thin wire against the neck to scratch the skin—these don’t cause severe bodily harm but are very effective in breaking a person’s mental state.
However, mild torture alone is never enough. The body builds tolerance, and when used too long, these psychological methods become dull. That’s when hammers, hooks, and knives become necessary. Striking directly grows exhausting quickly, but with the right tools, violence can be applied more efficiently.
And this wasn’t just about extracting information. There was a need for revenge.If Raymond didn’t satisfy that burning need for vengeance, he wouldn’t be able to endure this himself.
‘Does he really not know?’
Raymond glanced at Dullan’s legs, now more like broken ornaments than limbs. Perhaps it would be better to cut them off entirely. Not long after Raymond had captured Dullan, the man had started weeping and begging for mercy. Raymond had thought, hopefully, that Dullan might break sooner than expected.
But even today, with Carynne dead, Dullan hadn’t provided a satisfactory answer.
It wasn’t that he had given up no information at all. Raymond had learned some things from torturing him.
Like how a pregnancy could be her way out.
When Carynne had hesitated and confessed that she might not escape because she was barren, it hadn’t surprised Raymond—he already knew that from Dullan.
But there was still no decisive revelation.
Raymond had spent over a year torturing him, thinking.
‘Maybe this version of him really doesn’t know.’
At this point in time, Dullan might truly not have enough knowledge.
If no amount of torture could uncover the truth, if all his efforts were nothing more than lashing out in rage, then…
What could bring them salvation?
Squelch—
“…Shit.”
Raymond looked down at the handsaw. The fat stuck between the teeth of the blade had clogged it, preventing it from working properly. Even though Dullan’s body was nothing but skin and bones, some fat still clung between the saw’s teeth, blood oozing out. It was a frustrating reminder that Dullan, no matter how frail, was still alive. Raymond needed a new blade. Meanwhile, foam had begun to form at Dullan’s mouth. He would need some treatment too. řÂɴȫᛒЁś
“Take a break, Reverend.”
Raymond left the room to change his tools.
As he glanced at the garden outside, his thoughts drifted back to Carynne’s lifeless body. Her body was now just an empty vessel, destined to rot away unless something was done. Raymond had done this over a hundred times—he wasn’t about to cling to a corpse and mourn forever.
“Cremation would be best, wouldn’t it? It’s the cleanest way. Or maybe burial? I could put you in the family crypt. Then again, it might be a bit awkward since we weren’t formally married… though, it’s not like they’d dig you up if I had a gravestone placed.”
Raymond muttered to himself. But there was no response. Raymond closed his mouth. No one was there.
“…You were just here not long ago.”
Since regaining his memories and before meeting the real Carynne again, Raymond had been haunted by her—memories of her, visions of her. The ghost of Carynne had always lingered by his side, repeating things she had once said.
“See? I told you you’d forget.”
Sometimes she’d mutter things she might have said. It was all an illusion in the end.
Though at times inconvenient in his daily life, Raymond had eventually begun to enjoy it. He knew his mental state wasn’t healthy, but he didn’t want any treatment. He found solace in Carynne’s apparition, and it comforted him.
“Maybe I’ll plant something after the burial. A rosebush, perhaps? Though you might think roses are too cliché because of your red hair….”
Damn it.
Raymond clamped his mouth shut. The illusion was gone.
He felt like a fool. But things would be fine now. He had met Carynne. Though she was no longer with him at this moment, she wouldn’t rush into death again. So, for her sake, he had to finish what was left in this life and move on. He didn’t need illusions. His memories were enough.
Raymond changed the saw blade, cleaned the hammer, and gathered some antiseptics and painkillers. Then he headed back up to his room. He still had to drag more out of Dullan. With Carynne’s death, he could now push the torture even further.
“……”
Raymond approached the open door silently.
Inside the room was Dullan.
He couldn’t walk. Raymond had completely shattered his legs. But somehow, Dullan was still moving. He couldn’t get far. However, thick trails of blood and pus on the floor traced his path.
Raymond felt genuine amazement at the fact that, after being reduced to such a state, Dullan still had the strength to move. Dullan was thinner and weaker than an average untrained civilian. His grip strength had once been decent, but months of torture had weakened him to nothing. Perhaps Raymond had not fully subdued him, or maybe Dullan was desperately summoning all his remaining strength. Yet, where he was crawling to was unexpected.
If Dullan had been trying to escape the room, it would have made sense. After all, a person fleeing torture was only natural. It would have been stranger if he didn’t try to run away. Everyone, after all, wants to live.
Even if Dullan had tried to throw himself out the window to commit suicide, Raymond would have understood. Raymond had shown remarkable patience, keeping Dullan alive, though he had inflicted countless permanent injuries. Dullan had, after all, begged for death many times already.
But the direction he crawled toward was neither the window nor the door. Unable to use his legs, he dragged himself with his arms. His fingernails had all been torn out, and most of his fingers had been severed, leaving only four intact between both hands. Still, he crawled.
He crawled toward Carynne.
“…Kuh, ugh.”
Dullan hadn’t noticed Raymond’s presence. Raymond considered stepping on him to stop him, but instead, he held his breath and watched. Carynne was already dead, after all. He wanted to see what Dullan was trying to do.
Why was he crawling toward the already-deceased Carynne?
Though Dullan grimaced in pain, stifling groans every few moments, he never stopped. What would have taken Raymond only a few seconds to cover took Dullan an eternity. Yet he persisted, crawling inch by inch until he finally reached Carynne’s corpse.
There, he fumbled with his remaining fingers and pulled out a single gold coin.
“Hah… haa….”
Where had that come from? Somehow, Dullan had managed to hide it from Raymond until now. He placed the coin in Carynne’s cold, dead hand. Her hand, stiff in death, couldn’t grasp it properly, so Dullan used his remaining strength to force her fingers to close around the coin.
Her dead hand stiffened further, and finally, she held the coin tightly.
Raymond couldn’t bear to watch Dullan touch Carynne any longer.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Dullan looked up at Raymond, fear evident in his eyes. Raymond pushed him aside and took the coin from Carynne’s hand to examine it. It was just an ordinary gold coin.
***
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