Beril (2): Christmas Eve
It was Christmas Eve. Snow was falling. White and quiet snow blanketed the concrete buildings of the city, the crumbling walls of the orphanage, and the courtyard in the middle with calm serenity.
A rare sweet aroma wafted from the kitchen, and the Old Nun let the children stay up late just this once. At the orphanage window, three kids had gathered.
Ganet rested his chin on the windowsill, gazing outside, and spoke first.
"Think he'll come today?"
Rapis, who had snuck dried fruit from the kitchen and was munching on it across from him, looked up.
"Who?"
"The mister."
Rapis glanced at the snowflakes outside for a moment, then shrugged.
"He might. Or he might not."
"He came last year."
"Not the year before."
Ganet pouted.
"Still, I bet he comes this time."
Leaning against the wall below the windowsill, I asked,
"Why?"
Ganet rubbed the tip of his nose, embarrassed for no reason.
"Just a feeling."
Rapis snickered.
"That's not a reason."
"I just have a feeling, okay?"
I took Ganet's side.
"You can't ignore Ganet's gut. I'm betting he shows up too."
"Hmph."
"But if the mister does come, Rapis, you'd be the first to run out, right?"
Rapis's face flushed a little at my words.
"N-no, I wouldn't!"
"Heh, Beril's got a point."
"...Tch, can't argue with that."
We all burst out laughing at the same time. It was a perfectly ordinary, happy evening—no different from any other. If things had stayed that way, it would have become a cherished memory.
That's when it happened.
Thud.
Something heavy crashed outside—like someone hurling a massive sack. We stopped laughing in unison.
A brief silence.
Then again.
Thud!
This time, the windowsill trembled faintly. A teacher jumped to his feet.
"Everyone, inside—now."
But some kids were already playing out in the snow. At the sight, I instinctively gripped my sickle. Something terrible was about to happen—I could feel it.
The moment I stepped out the door with my sickle, cold air hit me along with the stench of blood. It wasn't the smell of snow. It was unmistakably blood.
Beyond the wall, something stood in the middle of the street. At first, I thought it was a person. But as it revealed itself under the flickering streetlamp, buzzing with static, I realized I was wrong.
"Urk..."
It looked like someone had been forcibly stretched, torn apart, and crudely stitched back together. Swollen red flesh tangled in places, with what might have been human faces or arms grotesquely fused and protruding from its body. Did K Corp's eight-legged chickens look like this? No, even they would be less horrific.
"......"
It slowly raised its head.
And looked our way.
"...People. Tear? Kill and get praise? What do I do in the library?"
Cold sweat trickled down my spine. That's dangerous. My instincts screamed it.
Thud.
The monster took a step toward the orphanage.
Thud, thud, thud.
With each footprint it left on the ground, the building shook. One side of the wall collapsed, sending stone fragments and piled snow flying everywhere.
"Kyaaah!"
"Uwaaaah!"
The kids playing outside screamed and fled.
"Get inside now! Hurry!"
A teacher shouted and rushed forward. Another ran out to herd the children back in. Clutching my sickle, I dashed outside too, to drag the stragglers inside.
"This way! Quick!"
I yanked a kid collapsed in the snow by the arm and shoved them indoors. On one side, Rapis held a sobbing child; Ganet lifted a fallen one to their feet.
But the monster gave us no time to escape.
Kaboom!
The front steps shattered. It closed the distance in an instant.
"Uwaaaah!"
Then, the Young Teacher charged at it with a shovel—not out of bravery, but because we were behind him. He had no choice but to stand his ground.
The shovel blade slammed into the monster's side.
Clang!
No sound of rending flesh. Just a dull metallic ring, like striking rusted iron with a hammer. The blade couldn't take it and bounced off.
"Ah, ahh..."
The teacher's face went pale.
The monster's arm whipped out—too fast to track at first.
Crunch.
It seized the teacher in both arms.
And tore him apart. Like ripping meat in two, so effortlessly.
"H-hiiiaaah!!"
Someone screamed—I couldn't tell who. The Old Nun spread her arms to shield the children.
"Back! Everyone, get back—"
Her words cut off as the monster's fist smashed into her chest. The elderly nun's body flew into the air, slammed against the wall, and went still.
In that moment, what little order remained collapsed. Kids scattered everywhere—some collapsing in tears, others running blindly, a few trying to drag injured friends only to tumble together.
The monster didn't care. It crushed whatever its hands touched, stomped anything underfoot.
"If I enter the library... get praise. Tomeri is good... child. But many bad children here..."
Muttering strangely, it continued the slaughter.
"W-we gotta run now, Beril."
When its gaze wasn't on me, I had to flee. To survive, I had to run. My head knew it.
But my legs wouldn't move.
Then, familiar faces filled my vision—kids I ate, fought, laughed, and cried with every day. The image of abandoning them and running alone wouldn't even form in my mind.
That's when it happened.
"Kyaaah!"
The monster reached for a fallen child. Without thinking, my mouth moved first.
"You fucking monster!!"
My voice rang out louder than expected. The monster's head snapped toward me.
"Tomeri not monster... Tomeri good child!!!"
As it shrieked and its body stiffened, I ducked low and dove between its legs. My sickle blade sliced upward through the snowflakes.
Slash!
I felt the tip graze its flesh clearly through my fingers.
"Graaaah!!!"
It hit. For the first time, the monster howled in pain, thrashing. I kept swinging relentlessly, using my small size to slip into its blind spots—calf, flank, back, Achilles tendon, palm. Shallow wounds, but definite.
Its blood stained the snow red; its flesh gaped hideously.
"...Tough bastard!"
I gasped for breath. My arms and legs throbbed; my palms were torn, blood seeping through. But I didn't retreat. If I backed off now, I knew what would happen.
Catching my breath, I glared at it again.
That's when it twitched violently.
"Beril! Watch out!"
Someone shouted from behind—Ganet or Rapis, no time to tell.
The monster roared low.
"Graaaargh!"
Boom!
Its fist pounded the ground. I tried to leap back but was a beat too slow.
"Ah..."
The earth flipped. Snow, dirt, concrete chunks exploded outward. The ground gave way beneath me, and my body launched into the air. I fought for balance, but my back hit the wall first, then my head cracked against it hard.
My vision flashed white.
"Ngh—"
Everything blurred; hot liquid trickled from my head. I gritted my teeth, trying to rise, but my arms had no strength.
Thud.
Thud.
The footsteps grew closer.
It's over. Even my young mind knew it. The world faded, consciousness slipping—
Then something inside me snapped.
The suffocating pain receded. The ringing in my ears, the blood-soaked courtyard, the monster's staggering shadow—all blurred like viewing the world through a thin membrane of water.
In that haze, unfamiliar future scenes flooded the cracks in my fading awareness.
At first, trivial ones: a street kid dropping ice cream on their hand; someone fumbling for a handkerchief; an unnamed Fixer flicking ash from a cigarette at an alley's end; a paper rustling in some office.
I thought they were hallucinations. But they kept coming—one became two, two four, four ten.
A red bus. Thirteen prisoners. Mad laughter. A great lake. A golden casing rolling across blood-smeared knuckles.
Then countless more poured in.
Someone crosses the Boundary, the door of the River opens, and frenzied laughter leaks from beyond. Someone pierces the heart with golden casings, black liquid flows down, and a mysterious light slowly descends upon it. A massive spiderweb. Humans dangling at its end. Interwoven threads of inescapable fates. Someone sinking into the abyss without a word.
The city's inside and outside. Nights and days yet to come. Collapsing Nests. Blood-soaked Fixers. Piling corpses. People passing by indifferently.
It was the future. Not yet arrived, but vivid as the past.
"Guh, heuk...!"
Blood poured from my nose. My head felt like it would split. No—like someone pried it open and crammed the whole city inside.
Closing my eyes didn't help; the scenes crashed through my brain like relentless waves.
Amid it, a voice echoed from somewhere. Warm and soft. Unnaturally tender, unnaturally beautiful.
[It's okay.]
[Look slowly.]
[You can just accept it.]
[It's not your fault.]
Crunch. I bit my lip hard, shaking off the beautiful voice.
[...Why ignore me?]
Beautiful, yes—but that's why I had to ignore it. I needed a way to kill that horrific monster, not comfort.
"Whatever the future holds, whatever this city becomes— that's for later."
Right now, I had to cut down that monster. Protect my friends.
"The courage to stand and fight—that's what I need. Not useless future fragments."
[......If that's what you want. See you next time, Beril.]
With the beautiful voice's final words, I groped the ground with bloody hands. My fingers touched the cold sickle handle.
In that instant, amid the flood of futures, a few fragments sharpened vividly: the angle to swing the sickle, the timing to twist my waist, the direction to channel force, when to hold my breath.
A combat form I'd never learned felt eerily familiar.
"Nngh..."
I gritted my teeth and rose. After collapsing in the snow-packed winter, my body should have been numb with cold. But warmth rose from my feet—bright golden yellow, dazzling enough to sting the eyes if stared at too long. Just like the sunlight that wrapped around me on my first day at the orphanage.
"This is..."
The light enveloped my ankles, climbed my calves. My trembling legs steadied; my crumbling body stabilized.
Ah, this. The power that flashed by countless times in those future shards.
The power of will that propels the body forward.
And from my fingertips, thin threads of light unraveled. Delicate as silk, warm as sunlight. Countless globs coiled along the sickle's edge, forming a distinct golden ring at the curved blade's tip.
The clinging power that forms light rings on weapons and body.
I gripped the Mang-wrapped sickle with both hands and stared at the monster looming before me. Blood, rotting flesh, hot breath assaulted me at once.
The head. This time, the clear vital spot.
Crunch.
The sensation of my toes pressing snow was unnaturally vivid. Shin (Heart) pushed my back; the Mang-clad blade tip quivered lightly in my grasp.
I can reach it now.
I twisted my waist to the limit, drawing the handle high.
Now.
Like releasing a taut bowstring, I unleashed the sickle with all my might toward its neck. The curved arc hurtled straight for Tomeri's throat.
I knew from the feel in my hands: it connected perfectly this time. One strike would stop it for good.
I was certain.
But—
Whoosh.
"Grahhh!"
At the last second, it twisted away. Far faster than expected—an instinctive dodge like a beast sensing death.
The trajectory veered half a beat. Instead of the neck, its arm sheared off at the shoulder. Red flesh spun through the air, splatting into the snow as hot blood sprayed across the white.
The monster screamed, ear-splitting.
Before it ended, its remaining arm swung at me. I reflexively raised the sickle to block. Mang-ringed blade met monster fist head-on.
Crack.
The sickle shattered first—its already cracked blade unable to withstand the impact. Shock like my grip tearing apart raced up my arm.
Then my body. The fist drove through the sickle, smashing my ribs dead-center. A crunch of rupture choked my breath. Something inside snapped vividly. My mouth filled with blood.
Slam!
I flew several meters, crashing and rolling roughly across the snow. Christmas Eve's cold flakes clung to my cheek and neck, but I barely felt it.
"Ngh, keh..."
Vision inverted; thick sludge rose in my lungs. Dark sky, snow, crumbled wall, bloodstains swirled chaotically. In my hand, only the half-broken handle remained.
Spitting blood, I barely lifted my head. The monster still reeled, roaring savagely. Armless on one side, it loomed gigantic—stronger than me.
"Grrr... Tomeri punishes bad child..."
And it advanced on me again.