Chapter 108 108: Atonement

Jingle bells chimed. As if signalling the beginning of the end, that sort of clear knell echoed to but one pair of ears. Two male bodies, one quite frail and the other of decent bulk. Two desecrated bodies, both with mutilated limbs and left seemingly to rot. Two faceless bodies, each bearing no countenance, no mug, no mien to speak of. Blood cascading and overflowing, spilling and pouring, flooding and seeping into the besmirched mattresses, oversaturated with such belated force of life, dripping even further onto the cold stone beneath, cruelly staining that, too, with an unforgettable trace of past existence. The wafting of such a powerful stench, an objectively awful odour that one-sidedly dominated the room, one that clung to the inside of your nostrils, your airways, and the very insides of your lungs as you breathed it in. Of strangers' blood, one that the Professional had grown regrettably accustomed to. Conversely, those throats, crushed with a purple highlighting of deep bruise and inhuman contusion, were of the sort that left one naught but doubtless whether they could function ever again. Defaced in the most literal sense and utterly, mercilessly smashed. But no one could dare to imagine the scene of a person peeling all that skin by hand. Flaying only the face of the face, of both faces, and of the face under that, before wielding an unruly sledgehammer, raising it high into the air, and―― "You bastard!" Bang-! All of a sudden, "Bartholomew" was thrown against the wall. "Hk-!" Having his back slam roughly against that solid stone brick, he reflexively gasped for the return of air cruelly snatched from the custody of his lungs. "Was it you?! It could only've been you!" "Gh...!" "The door was locked, I made sure of it, and that was around midnight! The priest is too fucking fat to do something like that in that short a time, and everyone else is just a damn kid! Tell me it was you, damn it!" "John's" accusation rang clear, and as the assailing man's fists gripped the collar of the other only ever tighter, his eyes shot with fury, a fierce action to which the only response was a hardly-musterable resistance. "Tch...! It...! Wasn't...!" "Bartholomew", his heels lifted faintly off the ground, squeezed such opposition through teeth gritted and grinding. To that defiance, "John" could not but flare. "Kh-! Tell me how it couldn't be, you--" His lashing out of choler was only transient, however, as a rather precipitate interruption appeared. "Now, what might this be, I wonder." As, entering upon this scene that could only belong to a crime... "You fools. Were you not warned to repent more than once already? I suppose you really are just that of a lacking lot, aren't you." The Detective, Lilliana Weiss, had arrived. ❖─────★★☆☆☆─────❖ Bearing a deep scowl, I rubbed my sore neck. This shit really wasn't something I should have to endure first thing in the morning... Fortunately, when the Protagonist and the rest of the girls staying in the South Transept showed up, the man christened "John" let me go, opting instead to take his little sister's side, evidently prioritising her safety. Incidentally, everyone staying in the South Transept was patently unharmed, leaving us with no more than the two casualties right here. Of course, the question that was the elephant in the room, remained. "―Isn't it just a wonderful morning today?" Opening with that line as everyone gathered in the nave, the Detective spoke. "Ah! Honestly. Having two fresh corpses to examine right after my wake, is the world finally sending me a challenge? What a beautiful day it is shaping up to be, indeed~!" At the same time, rich white and black notes chimed; in such a characteristic manner as if the keys themselves were expressing dominion on behalf of her presence, and swaying with only sophistication between staccato and fermata, as Lucretia might have put it. "I'm sure you all feel the same way, yes? There could not be a better start to it, not at all, and certainly not in any universe of mine!" A sense of vanity, of teasing, of nobility. "Because, after all, I do, really, genuinely, certainly, seriously, honestly absolutely earnestly――love examining corpses!" This―was undoubtedly the Theme of the Great Detective. "Refusing to repent, the bald geezer was no more than a dogged imbecile, and as I predicted, he has been punished thusly, rightly, and only justly. Unfortunate that he disregarded my generosity and paid the poor price, isn't it? Blegh, welp, it is what it is I suppose!" The bodies, wrapped in bloody bed sheets, drenched and soaked with that sticky crimson fluid, were brought out to the nave and lined up in the central empty space. "I-is this... really okay...?" The highschooler girl "Thomas" asked with an almost imperceptible mutter that I barely picked up. In an ordinary situation, it might've been the case that touching or moving the victims was not permitted, that we should leave them until authorities arrive for a proper and more thorough investigation. In the end, though, this was a place isolated from such outside factors. No one here, unless they were the Antagonist, likely knew where we were or how to escape the church. We couldn't just leave two rotting corpses inside the room half of us sleep in, so we had to move them somewhere. In the process of that, the scene of the crime was naturally disturbed, but there was no other choice. Two victims arose on the very first night. Ten of us remained, and with barely a clue of what occurred. Yesterday, we came to the conclusion that there must be eleven days in total. Thus, if someone were to ask the probability of everyone here surviving through the tenth or eleventh night... "..." "Eugh... Who would do something like that...?" Again, "Matthew" covered his mouth, seemingly still sickened by the earlier sight. Ordinarily, I too might've been in the same sort of state. I understood what he must be feeling, and I sympathised. The Detective cared not for his weakness, though. "Oh, grow up. Weep as you will, it is no mystery why these fools were the ones to be murdered, and it certainly won't change the current sad state of affairs, or should I say, the hot water you are all in." At that utterance, multiple voices clashed at once. "...What?" "H-hey, what's that supposed to mean...?" The Detective only sighed in response, rubbing her forehead as if tired or bored. "I'm telling you, aren't I? Dolts. Running around without a single clue as to what's going on like a bunch of headless chickens is just a miserable sight, one I can't even bring myself to pity, and this show of sheer fatuity is just absurd, isn't it? All I see is a disgusting pig rolling around in the mud―I'm talking about you, by the way, vile homewrecker." Pointing a finger at the man with the little sister, the Detective said that with a smirk so insidious it appeared almost inhuman. Immediately following her insinuation, I caught a cursory glance from him that lasted just an instant. Naturally, "John" frowned. "Are you accusing me of something?" He shouldn't have asked that question. "Oh? Are you seriously so stupid? Really? What's this? Do you not understand my words? The words coming out of my mouth right now, at this second? Should I speak louder? Clearer? Slower? Should I write it down for you? Are you having trouble comprehening my speech, or perhaps the language I am speaking? Yes? No? Please let me know so I can be sure of how you're struggling, that is, so I know exactly what not to do to make you suffer. Yes, thank you. Anyway, are you listening now? Mm? Then, shall we move on? Pig. Sorry, uhm, that was a slip of the tongue? Just a test to make sure you can hear. That's all. Anyway, you get it, right? Don't accuse people of stuff when there is no evidence to back up your claim, yes? Evidence evidence evidence. It's exceedingly important in order to hold a proper trial. But well, I don't expect something unrefined like you to know what that is, so maybe you should just stop listening and forget everything I said, hm? Does that sound good? Or, are you even still listening? In any case, shall we move on?" I wasn't sure how anyone could reply to a deluge of words like that, that was more confusing than anything else, and as it turned out, "John" was the same in that regard. The Detective continued without hesitation, however. "Yes, yes? Any questions? Feel free to ask, I will answer succinctly. Promise." Perhaps it was risky given the kind of "succinct" answer that had just now been provided, but regardless, "Thaddeus" gave the Detective her full attention, firming her eyes. "Excuse me... Regarding what you said earlier, what are you suggesting? I suppose we need not question the reasoning for "Philip's" unfortunate fate, but "James"? He was coarse, yes, without a doubt, but I cannot fathom what he might have done to bring upon such a terrible fate... I don't understand. Please, share what thoughts you might have." In response, the Detective had, it seems, but one thing to say. "「Judas」 has struck." She sent everyone, in turn, a mysterious look. "「Judas」 has struck, and he is observing oh-so-desperately for all of your sins, so might you heed caution? Proceed delicately, as if holding a baby, is what I'm saying. Orrr..." Then, as if producing it from thin air, she presented a crushed PET water bottle. "――You might really end up with your face smashed in~?" 'What...?' Staring at that plastic, empty bottle of water, my brows furrowed. But, before I could even question it. "Ah." The highschooler girl let out a small voice. "Is that... mine...?" At that moment, a transient scene from yesterday recursed in my mind, one from right at the start of the day, flashing through like a mirage that I could only faintly recall. Of that rough and ready man―snatching a water bottle from that very girl's hands. "...!" I snapped my head towards the inscription. To the riddle-like etchings that adorned that wall. To the side, where the plainly-stated Ten Commandments were laid bare. And, down that list, all the way to where a certain, apropos decree was declared. 『8 - "Thou shalt not steal."』 And at that very moment, I knew. Today. "..." Was not such a day for the Protagonist to die.