The Villain’s Ending

Chapter 34

Coloring (16)

After leaving the student council office, I returned to the church. All the noise that had filled the hallway was gone. It was class time, but I didn't particularly want to go back to the classroom, so I walked alone down the empty hallway. My footsteps echoed unusually loudly.

The church door was closed. I quietly opened the door and stepped inside.

Estelle was sitting on the first long bench in front of the altar. Her back was to me, and she was looking up at the sculpture on the altar. Her shoulders were perfectly still. Even though she must have known I had entered, she didn't turn around.

I stopped behind her.

How much time had passed? Estelle slowly turned her head. A small smile appeared on her face.

"I wanted to have lunch with you."

"Sorry."

"Levina called you, didn't she? No need to be sorry." She took another bite of the apple she was holding. The crisp sound echoed clearly in the quiet church. She rolled the half-eaten apple around in her hand.

"So, what did she say?""She told me to separate from you." The answer was simple.

As soon as those words finished, Estelle casually tossed the apple she was holding onto the bench and stood up. The apple rolled and precariously stopped at the edge of the bench. And she approached me.

She was no longer smiling. Her red eyes stared straight at me.

Estelle grabbed my shoulders and pushed me straight onto the long bench behind me. My back hit the cold, hard wood. I ended up in a half-reclining position.

Estelle got on top of me and pressed down on my shoulders with both hands. Her hair fell down, tickling my cheek. The scent of apples mixed with her body odor brushed past my nose. Her face was right in front of mine.

"So, you want to separate?"

I could feel her breath. Without saying a word, I shook my head. It didn't seem like separating from Estelle would be very pleasant.

A faint smile spread across her face again, confirming my answer. She slowly lowered her head and lightly brought her lips to mine. It was a soft, brief kiss. The sweet scent of apples lingered.

"Don't leave me behind."

I gently stroked her back.

"It feels like you might suddenly disappear. It's been like that ever since we first met."

"You know I wouldn't do that."

At my words, she raised her head. A flicker of unease appeared in her eyes.

"Promise me."

She held out her pinky finger. It was a childish gesture, but she was serious.

I also raised my pinky finger and hooked it around hers. Our fingers intertwined. It felt strangely intimate.

"That's enough now." Only then did she smile, as if relieved.

"I can't even see overlaps anymore. I only see you." She released her arms that had been embracing me and naturally got up from her seat. And she said softly.

"I'm going out tonight, will you come with me?"

I nodded silently.

Afterward, Estelle went up to her room, changed into black priestly robes, and came back down. We had a simple dinner in the church kitchen. Hard bread, cheese, and wine from the cupboard. It was nothing special, but it was enjoyable.

After dinner, we went outside. The night was deep and cold. We walked in silence down the dark street. Streetlights dimly illuminated the path at intervals. Our shadows lengthened and shortened repeatedly.

Estelle sometimes hummed a tune. It was a strange melody I had never heard before.

She seemed happy. Like a child going on a picnic.

The place we arrived at was a wealthy residential area on the outskirts of the city. High walls and well-maintained gardens. All the houses were deep in slumber. Only the distant sound of a dog barking was heard occasionally.

We stopped in front of a certain mansion. A massive iron gate blocked our way. The name ‘Clement’ was engraved on the brass plaque attached to the gate.

Estelle lightly placed her hand on the doorknob. As she put force into her hand, the faint sound of the lock bending was heard. The door opened silently. As if it had been waiting for us.

The garden was wide and dark. The faint sound of water flowing from a fountain could be heard.

We stood in front of the front door.

"Today will be the last time. Truly." Estelle said that and, once again, opened the door very naturally.

Inside the house, it was warm and cozy. The embers in the fireplace were still alive. Red embers subtly breathed in the darkness.

On the living room sofa, a young boy lay asleep, covered by a blanket. Was he seven, or perhaps eight? He was sleeping peacefully, breathing evenly.

A faint sound came from the direction of the kitchen. A woman, wiping dishes, froze when she saw us. Her eyes widened with terror. The plate in her hand fell to the floor. Crash! The sharp sound broke the silence.

A middle-aged man, dozing off in the armchair next to the sofa, startled awake. The book open on his lap fell to the floor. Deep wrinkles were etched onto his face.

"Wh-who are you?" The man's voice trembled. He made an expression mixed with embarrassment and wariness upon seeing us.

Estelle smiled. Her smile shone brightly even in the darkness.

"We were just out for a night stroll. May we rest here for a moment?" Her voice was gentle. Like a lost pilgrim.

The man stared blankly at us for a moment, then recognized Estelle's face and was horrified. The color drained from his face.

"Saintess? Why in such a humble place...?" The middle-aged man hastily tried to stand. But his frail body, as if injured, wouldn't obey his will. He stumbled and slumped back into the chair.

Instead of answering, Estelle slowly walked towards the sleeping boy. Her footsteps were as quiet as a cat's.

She squatted in front of the sofa and looked at the child's face. Her finger gently brushed the child's soft cheek. The child stirred in his sleep, smiling faintly.

"He's cute. They say 'be fruitful and multiply,' and I suppose if you get a son like this, it might be worth it." Estelle whispered.

And her hand slowly moved towards the child's neck.

I stood leaning against the wall with my arms crossed behind me, and said. "Isn't he too young?"

Hearing my words, Estelle paused her movement for a moment. She took her eyes off the child and looked back at me.

"Hmm, that's true." She readily agreed.

And she gestured towards the woman in the kitchen, who was pale with fear and trembling. "Take the child upstairs to the second floor. No matter what sounds you hear, do not come out of the room."

The woman hesitated for a moment, then hastily picked up the child and disappeared upstairs. Her footsteps ascending the stairs were urgent.

Only the three of us remained in the living room.

The middle-aged man got up from his seat and, with trembling hands, took out a wine bottle and a glass from the cupboard. He poured the glass full of red wine and drank it in one gulp. Wine trickled down the corner of his mouth.

"The Archbishop, and Priest Perion... was it you who killed them?" The man's voice was filled with resignation. He seemed to be calmly accepting his death.

"'Killed'? That's a rather unpleasant word choice."

"Will God... send me to heaven?"

Estelle slowly approached him.

"Of course. Whose power do you think this is?" In his eyes, along with fear, there was a strange sense of relief.

Estelle grabbed him by the collar and punched him. Thwack! With a dull thud, the man's head snapped to the side. The sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing echoed in the room. A metallic scent of blood permeated the air.

Just as he was on the verge of death, a bright light bloomed from Estelle's hand. And she hit him again.

"You said we should live by giving, didn't you?" Estelle spoke in a calm, composed, and emotionless tone.

The man reached out, trying to say something, but only frothy blood escaped his burst lips.

"You should have been more generous then, too. What do you think I felt every time I heard your tedious sermons? From someone who didn't even care about a dying commoner, huh?"

Estelle now began to clench her fist and bring it down like a hammer. The man's eyeball popped out, rolled, and stopped on the carpet. It stared blankly at the ceiling.

Somehow, it turned my stomach.

"I'm going out for a smoke."

Estelle was breathing heavily. Her eyes gleamed with excitement.

"A cigarette? Ah, yes. Light one for me too, though." I took the pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I put a cigarette to Estelle's lips, and one to my own. And lit them.

She inhaled the smoke deeply.

I went outside. The cold night air was refreshing.

I took a deep drag from the cigarette, then slowly exhaled. The smoke scattered into the night sky.

I raised my head and looked at the night sky.

No stars were visible.

Not long after, the front door opened. A strong smell of blood wafted out.

Estelle was standing there. Her black priestly robes were so splattered with red that it was hard to tell why she'd worn them in the first place. She had a somewhat unsettled expression.

"Aren't you going to ask who it was?" She asked. Her voice was a little tired.

"No real need to know, is there?"

"Mmm, I suppose not." Estelle approached me and snatched the cigarette I was smoking. And took a deep drag.

"This one's better." She said, exhaling smoke.