Red Riding Hood - Chapter 48
Quiel stood frozen, his mind racing.
Cinq, Cinq.
Something is terribly wrong.
I must be trapped in the worst nightmare.
But as if to shatter his last hope, a dark hand emerged, pulling her into an embrace.
The man was like a black wolf.
A black wolf-like man had dared to touch what Quiel could never—Cinq’s lips. She wrapped her arms around the man’s neck and, in the sweetest voice, whispered his name.
“Ylfus.”
They became one again.
Quiel thought he screamed. But the sound, too immense, refused to pass through his narrow throat.
Silent sobs wracked his body as he staggered, tearing at his veil and pulling at his white hair.
The scream he could not release churned within him like molten copper, scorching his tongue and searing down his throat. It ignited his shredded heart, setting it ablaze.
He wanted to claw out his eyes with his fingers, to rip open his chest and pull out his heart.
He wanted to tear his stomach open and spill everything inside it, scattering it like crimson petals on that cursed bed.
Quiel ran wildly, yanking at his hair.
“Ah… Ahhh… AAAHHH!”
When he came to his senses, he found himself collapsed before the brothel keeper’s grave. The body, buried shallowly, emanated the stench of decay.
From the grave, Vinya’s voice chuckled.
“Young priest! You should’ve just paid me and bought that girl sooner.”
Quiel screamed in anguish,
“I didn’t want to! If I had bought her… If I had made her a real harlot with my own hands, the beasts of the village would’ve swarmed her like rabid dogs!”
The maggots writhing in the grave’s dirt turned to him, tilting their heads.
“Priest, Priest. Was it for Red Riding Hood, or was it for yourself?”
“You knew, didn’t you? If you wanted to be Red Riding Hood’s false savior, the false God, you should’ve thrown her into hell first. You should’ve made her hate enough to sin.”
Quiel let out a guttural scream.
“Shut up! Shut up!”
The maggots shook their heads at him.
“Where did it all go wrong?!”
“Everything.”
“The premise was flawed from the start. The red hood never sinned.”
“It must have been the black wolf who killed the brothel keeper. Look at those big, dark hands! They reeked of blood.”
“Then… does Red Riding Hood love that black wolf? Is she planning to leave here with him?”
“For Red Riding Hood, that might be happiness.”
From the grave, Vinya grumbled in her phlegmy voice,
“Prostitutes always run away.”
Quiel shouted,
“Shut up!”
A frightened maggot muttered,
“This can’t be called love, can it?”
A fly the size of a thumb buzzed past his ear, whispering,
“Priest, how far are you willing to go for that girl?”
As if spilling his insides, Quiel let out a tormented cry.
***
Quiel staggered like a ghost toward the brothel keeper’s house.
Cinq and the black wolf lay fast asleep. On the bedside table sat an empty wine glass, and next to the loudly snoring wolf lay a drained wine bottle.
Quiel kicked away the wolf’s thick arm wrapped around Cinq and pulled the white sheet over her.
Like swaddling a newborn, he delicately wrapped her from head to toe, ensuring she wouldn’t feel cold, then cradled her in his arms.
Without hesitation, he carried her out of the house and toward the temple.
Though it was late, the beasts of his flock awaited him in the temple.
He addressed them,
“The black wolf has appeared. A beast that will spill much blood and bring death to all. I have subdued him. He lies in the brothel keeper’s house—bring him to the temple and prepare a pyre in the square.”
Quiel smiled coldly.
“This place is our paradise, and I am its highest authority. I will protect it.”
