#because nero didn't answered yes and didn't even deny it but rather he only gave a reason as to why he gifted makia a rice cooker

[sylhea-raemi]

Nero and makia's fountain scene is so shoujou-like that people thought nero's the second ml 😭😭😭 bros not even a love interest

[etlunainmorte]

✒ P.S. I Love You ✒

***

"... I mean, it could be anywhere! Does it have a specific - ?"

"Wait!"

Nico held out a hand to stop Avery from talking. The Artisan looked at the woman and gestured for her to stay put for a while. Her companion nodded and braced herself as she hid behind one of the Grecian statues.

As she made her way towards the library, blatantly ignoring Christopher Lancaster's intimidating portrait, she heard the sound once more. It sounded like someone was sobbing,...

Nico followed the voice, the feeling of dread clawing its way to her heart. She turned around a corner, her radio held up, one finger ready to push the emergency button that would summon Nero's awful singing should something come out of the shadows and attack her.

However, no monster showed itself to her. Instead, she saw a girl sitting on the far right corner of the hall, her arms hugging her knees, her shoulders trembling with every sob she let out.

But, there was something strange about her, and that's her choice of clothes,...

... which looked like it was plucked off the late 1800s.

Nico made her way towards the girl without dropping her guard and knelt beside her, still trying to record every sound she could.

"Yo, you okay?" The Artisan carefully asked the girl, who looked up and finally revealed her face. "What are ya doin' here?"

"I can't come home." The girl simply answered.

"Oh. Where do ya live?"

To this, the girl pointed to the direction of a certain house across Avery's.

Wait. There's only one house across the street! And that's -

Nico furrowed her eyebrows as the girl spoke once more.

"I,... can't come home. I,... can't." She sobbed. "He trapped all of us here."

Trapped? Here?! "How many of you are in here?"

"There are s - six of us h - h ere."

Six?! Nico thought as she sighed and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, which felt really cold. "No worries. We're gonna bust ya outta here. What's yer name?"

The girl sniffed as she wiped her tears with the sleeve of her shirt. "D - daniella."

"Okay, Daniella. We're gonna help ya. But, ya have to help us first. Tell me who keeps you here." Nico urged as she went on recording their conversation. "Who is he?"

"Him."

"Sorry?"

"Him. Him."

"Umm, who is he? Who - ?"

"Him. Him. Him! Him! Him!"

Daniella went on saying the same word over and over again like a broken record until Nico couldn't take it anymore. She stood up and drew back from the girl, who was still screaming. And the moment she looked to her right to the window, she saw the house,...

... the house that Daniella was pointing at.

The house she used to live at,..

And when she looked back at Daniella, she saw -

"Hey, wanna see me do a trick?"

***

XIV

***

The gentle old woman gingerly made her way towards the door when she heard the sound of her equally old doorbell ringing once more.

"A moment, please! Ah! Rheumatism,..." She mumbled under her breath and stretched. Then, after that, she opened the door and saw two gentlemen waiting for her outside. The first one, she hasn't seen before. But, the other one,...

"Good evening." V greeted politely as his eyes automatically latched onto her soft, green ones.

"Yes, what can I do for you, gentlemen?" Her eyes wandered at the thing V was holding. A small wooden, antique box.

"We would like to ask you something very,... important."

The old woman's kind features contorted as her eyebrows furrowed and her wrinkles creased even more with her growing confusion. "Oh. If you're looking for - "

"We're not looking for someone." Roman cut her off, albeit politely. He felt his arms going numb from carrying the phonograph for too long, and he felt his feet getting colder and colder as the minutes where they were outside in the harsh weather passed.

"Oh! I see. Well - " the old woman began but, something made her stop abruptly.

That old wooden box. That antique phonograph,...

It,... can't be,...

IMPOSSIBLE!

"If you do not mind us prying," V went on with his inquiry. "... we would very much appreciate it if you would allow us to make some,... inquiries,... regarding - "

"Forgive me, gentlemen. I do not accept solicitations of any kind."

"Solicitations?!" Roman began but he was immediately cut off.

"Thank you so much for your time. Good evening."

And with those words, she closed, no, slammed, the door on their faces.

The poor old woman clutched tightly at her chest as she leaned against the door. Her hands positively trembling, her eyes starting to burn, she never expected that this day would come. She has buried that past along with some distasteful memories when he died. And now that she was reminded of it once again, the memories, along with his pained, old face, started going down on her like a landslide.

She whimpered, covering her eyes with her cold and clammy palms as that familiar sense of dread and melancholy took over her body.

"I implore you. We need to talk." She heard V on the other side of the door. Now that the painful memories were back, she realized that V's face looked very much familiar as much as she wanted to deny it.

That face,...

It’s the same as his.

"Please, go away!" She cried, unable to suppress her feelings any longer. "I can't help you! Please! Leave me alone!"

"Listen," V spoke a few moments after her initial outburst. " ... we are aware that you know something of great importance to us."

"I know nothing! I know nothing!"

"Our friend was hurt." V went on. "And soon, people will perish if we do not take action. Innocent lives will be lost if you do not help us. So, please,..."

V and Roman waited for at least another minute, and yet, she would not open the door. It's as if she didn't want to listen to them or see their faces, at all.

And this only made the poet more convinced that she knew something deeper, and probably darker, than what he initially thought.

As he was about to knock once more, he was surprised to see the door finally being opened by the woman. And when they saw her tear - stained face and her conflicted expression, they could not help but feel guilty.

"Come in." The woman simply said as she finally invited the two men in.

A few moments later, as they sat on the sofa in the living room, the woman placed some things on the table, which were some old, yellowed notes, an album, and a small box. And as she sat across them on another sofa, she tried to relax herself by slowly letting out the pent up tension within her in the form of a long and deep sigh.

"Now, I see no reason why I should remain silent about this for a bit longer. I know what you came for, and to tell you honestly, I dread for the coming of this day. But, now I know that I have no other choice but to face this." She gravely told them, her emerald eyes still glistening with the tears she just shed. "And I do not want any lives lost because of my cowardice."

"You are not a coward." The poet told her as Roman agreed with a nod. "You chose to help us, and I' am thankful for that."

"Very well, then. I do not know if the information I have could help you but, I do hope that you will get enlightened of some things regarding the Lancaster household."

At the sound of the surname, the two men, most especially Roman, sat in attention, fully prepared to receive whatever information they would get from the woman.

The woman cleared her throat, and she finally began.

"If you should know the truth about the matriarch, Lady (Y/N) (L/N), then, yes: she did die in the year 1899. But, not of childbirth, or a fire, or anything else. She died due to unspeakable acts of torture performed by that lunatic doctor, Christopher Lancaster. A few from the clan knew this truth because the doctor, himself, tried to bury it with falsehoods."

"How do you know such things, if we may ask?" V questioned but, deep down, he could sense the answer, all along.

To this, the woman gave them a strange look, followed by a guilty smile and a shook of the head. She went on with her story.

"My mother was taken in by her best friend when she was only two months old. She raised her as her own, fed her, and provided only the best for her. And because of the woman who raised her, she grew up as the most wonderful woman I have ever known.

"And how did she lose her parents? Her mother died due to inhumane mental illness treatment complications, while her father died at a ripe old age, a lonely and miserable man. Their names were,...

"(Y/N) (L/N) and Victor Blake."

A tense and dreadful silence settled on the occupants of the otherwise warm and inviting home as Victor and (Y/N)'s grandchild opened the old album and showed it to the men. And surely enough, they saw the carefully compiled photographs of the couple, together with their closest friends, Daniella and the loyal maidservant in particular. They looked really happy in the photographs, with smiles on their faces and mirth on their eyes.

It's as if the photographs contained their bliss and showed the happiest days of their lives away from their troubles.

However, happy or troubled, the lover's grandchild and her photographs only raised even more questions than answers.

"Avery is not aware of this." Roman uttered as he took a closer look at the photographs. "You are related to her, and she didn't know this! Why didn't you tell her anything?"

"It was never my own choice to share the truth." The grandchild answered. "Miss Avery Edwards is the grandchild of my eldest sister, who was the only one who claimed territory of the (L/N) mansion. Or was it called the Lancaster mansion now? I can't really tell."

"Would you kindly tell us why?" V carefully asked her, letting Roman browse through the old photos for a while.

"Of course. As you may have very well guessed, my mother doesn't want anything to do with the history of the mansion, and the mansion, itself. Or rather, it was the wish of the woman who raised her - Lady Daniella Carrizales. And I would not have known about all of this unspeakable tragedy if it weren't for my, should I say, constant meddling regarding the things that my mother and Lady Daniella were hiding for such a long time.

"That fateful night, my grandmother's loyal servant escaped Lancaster's clutches and went to Lady Daniella to tell her the news of the doctor's crimes to her best friend. At first, she refused, as she was too afraid to stand against the infamous doctor. But, she had no other choice. She, then, rushed towards Victor Blake's American residence near Red Grave to ask him for help.

"It really seemed like a mistake, for the English poet had already settled down with the American woman who he was married with after his and my grandmother's separation." The old woman cleared her throat, feeling very uncomfortable with the tale she was sharing. She sighed, and went on. "You see, by the time my grandmother and Lancaster were married, Victor Blake burned all of the letters and photographs that reminded him of his old lover. The little notes, the scribbles, everything. He really loathed her for her decision to marry Lancaster.

"But, Lady Daniella would not be swayed despite this. Something made him change his mind. And when he finally went back to the mansion to see her, she was,..."

The old woman stopped talking. She bowed her head, her chest heaving due to the heavy breaths she's taking as if she's hyperventilating.

"Are you alright?" Roman worriedly asked her.

The woman held up a hand and nodded, successfully making them know that she's fine and doesn't need help.

"I' am perfectly fine, thank you." She breathed a few moments later. "When Victor finally saw her, he decided to take her out of the house away from Lancaster. You see, she's still alive by then, however, she has become a different person entirely. Gone was the woman he fell in love with. Reduced to a skeletal, malnourished, wounded, violated, and tortured state, it seemed as though her soul was taken out of her. Taken by the evil man who manipulated his way into her life.

"He and Lady Daniella were about to take her when Lancaster intervened. There was a fight between Victor Blake and Christopher Lancaster, the ugly fight that resulted into the English poet's permanent disability as the bones on his legs were broken. Still, Victor prevailed, using his metal cane to gravely injure him.

"A trial was held after that gruesome event, and Victor willingly went to prison for harming the doctor. But, he didn't stay long. The authorities have abruptly released him, following the unearthing of really disturbing things regarding Christopher Lancaster."

To this, the old woman opened the box, revealing its contents, which were mostly newspaper clippings and some old documents which looked worn and ripped in many places due to age and rough handling. She continued as the men studied the contents of the box.

"With Lady Daniella and the loyal servant's testimonies, the court has proven that Lancaster manipulated many people in the past, both in position and not, in order to gain his license as a doctor and a metaphysician. His chambers and offices were investigated and ransacked, and they have found a huge amount of evidence of his cruelty and torture, which also pointed to the murder of another servant by the name of Roselle Velez, the (L/N) household's former master, and the son of the gardener who served that house for a very long time. Lancaster was stripped off his license and his credibility and was sent to prison with a life sentence. Lady Daniella took my mother and brought her to this house to raise her as her own, and cut her ties with Victor Blake. She denied for a very long time to have known the poet out of spite until right before her very own death when she finally revealed the secret to my mother."

The blonde maid named Roselle. That little boy,...

They were all,...

"What happened to Blake after the incident?" V asked her.

"As I've told you, he died at a ripe old age a lonely and miserable man. The day my mother finally told me and my sister the truth about their relationship, I went out and sought him on my own. I found him there, in his old English residence. And when I introduced myself to him, he just,... cried and,..."

The old woman sighed once more as she wiped the tears that unwillingly escaped her tired eyes.

"This poor and lonely crippled man, who, then, could only move with a wheelchair, welcomed me into his own home. He was a really kind person who never hid any secret from me. He told me everything that Lady Daniella refused to tell my mother when she was still alive. Victor gave these to me.”

The woman picked up the yellowed notes and gave them to V, who looked at them and realized they were old letters from Lady Daniella, herself.

And the notes didn't sound friendly, at all.

January 13, 1900

Please, I beg you. Leave me alone. I do not want anything to do with you anymore. I do not want the truth and your ugly secrets taint the growth of (Y/N)'s daughter. I want to raise her without knowing what happened in the past. I want her to grow up away from you.

May 11, 1900

For the last time, I implore you. Leave America. Go back to England. You have a family of your own. Leave me and the child alone. In exchange, I will make sure that she gets the best things in life that you would not be able to give and provide as a father. I will give her my own name. I will make sure that she grows up healthy and unaware of everything. I will give her the life you once promised to my dearly departed best friend. The one promise you were never able to fulfill.

June 12, 1900

Farewell, Victor Blake. And I promise you this: it would be like you have never existed.

"These letters," V began as he looked back at the poet's grandchild. " ... Victor,... tried to get your mother back?"

"Indeed. He told me he wanted to raise her and give her the life she once promised to (Y/N). But, as you can see, Lady Daniella refused. Victor admitted to burning and discarding all of (Y/N)'s mementos in the past but, he regretted it later. Lady Daniella, on the other hand, hid everything, including those documents and the old photographs. She may have refused Victor his very own child, but she refused to burn the last remnants of her best friend's happiest memories on earth. She showed them to my mother before she died.

"And those letters you have in your hand? They were the only things left that reminded Victor of his relationship with (Y/N) and the child born out of their love. That was,... all he had,..."

The woman wiped her tears once more and went on.

"So, I made it a point to bring these photographs the next time I visited England. I showed them to him, and for the very first time, he looked really happy and emotional. He refused to let go of these photographs. He told me everything that happened between him and his beloved (Y/N), of those little letters passed in the middle of the night, of the times they played music together, of those times when they read poetry together, of that one time she confessed, of that very first night he shared with her. He told me all of those with tears, and he told me that he regretted every foolish decision he has made in his miserable life, of leaving her, of hurting her, of marrying another just to forget her.

"He had his marriage to the American woman annulled just to take his beloved under his wing. He took her to England. Despite his own disability, he took care of her, fed her, bathed her. He did everything he can to make up for his own mistakes. But, due to her own disability due to a lot of complications and trauma, she was never able to reciprocate. She died in his arms a month later in the year of 1899. He became even more depressed and crippled with pain and regret and guilt. He slowly lost the ability to walk, and he lost his fame as a writer due to the Lancaster scandal that was forever linked to him. He died without even seeing his daughter in person."

V and Roman watched with difficulty as the old woman wept for her grandfather, and V actually felt sorry for the poet. He may have hated him for what he's done, but he realized that all his life, Victor did everything he can to make up for his mistakes.

But, he knew that the poet was too late.

And now, despite finally knowing everything about (Y/N) and Victor, the single, and most important, piece of the puzzle was still missing.

"But, that wasn't the only information you came for, is that right?" The woman told them. "You came to know about something sinister in that house, didn't you?"

V only nodded, and to this, the old woman continued.

"The evidence of Lancaster's crimes weren't the only things that the authorities found that day. Apparently, there was evidence of Demon worship in his chambers, of a particular evil entity he prayed on for success as a doctor. Lancaster never denied any of this. He even left a conspicuous message before dying. Something like, one more soul. He wrote it in his own blood before committing suicide.

"The authorities may have abandoned his case after his death but, I pressed on and did my own research regarding Lancaster's Demon worship after my grandfather's death. And I have found something truly terrifying."

She took one last thing from the box and showed it to both V and Roman. It was a booklet written in a different language, and when V opened it, he saw that it contained disturbing images of a ritualistic sacrifice that could, apparently, grant the Summoner everlasting fame and fortune.

And from the macabre illustration, alone, V saw that the sacrifice required seven innocent souls, emotionally tormented and brutally tortured as a way to prepare them for the Demon who would grant the wishes. The person would, then, keep the trapped souls in a container, as clearly stated by the art.

Roselle, that little boy,...

(Y/N), herself,...

"Bedlam." The old woman pronounced. "It is the name of the Demon that Lancaster worshipped. One of the three Demons who served under a higher evil entity called Mundus. Pandemonium of Destruction, Maelstrom of Calamity, and Bedlam of Insanity. Lancaster was able to sacrifice two souls using the servant called Roselle and the gardener's son. He died without having to complete the ritual."

"But, you said he wrote one more soul." Roman interjected. "Does that mean that he was able to sacrifice more before his death other than those two?"

"No. He was able to take one more." V interrupted as he finally opened the phonograph, letting them hear Lancaster's awful voice as he performed the inhumane mental illness treatment on (Y/N).

"My,... God!" The woman breathed, eyes wide with disbelief at the disturbing sounds coming from the phonograph.

Before things could get really traumatizing, V turned off the antique device and proceeded with his own investigation. "Lancaster tormented (Y/N) through means of this torturous treatment. She may not have died instantly back then, but I think he was able to get her soul. Roselle died of torture, I know this for certain,... for I have seen it. Other than that," V paused, his heart racing due to the fact that the missing pieces were finally being put together in place. He could finally solve the mystery and end Lancaster's torture. " ... I have seen this boy several times during my stay in the mansion. I have no clue as to his death, but I know for a fact that he's one of those souls. Nico was able to escape the clutches of death but, if she didn't, she would've been the fourth soul."

"Dios Mio,..." Roman exclaimed as he put a hand against his forehead.

V exhaled and went on, looking at the woman straight in the eye. "Victor Blake's disability was caused by Lancaster, himself, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"If I may ask, how did Lady Daniella die?"

The old woman's eyebrows shot up to her hairline as realization finally kicked in. "I remember she mentioned she's having nightmares and evening frights before her death. I think she actually went to see a Psychiatrist regarding this but, it didn't help. I think it's what actually made her reveal the secrets to my mother. It's because she thought she's guilty, and this guilt and regret would go away if she revealed the truth."

V nodded, then braced himself.

He knew who the sixth soul was! He knew!

"May I ask,... the name of the loyal servant who stayed with (Y/N)?"

"Oh, that girl. Her name was - "

But, she was interrupted as Roman's phone suddenly began ringing. The man held up one finger as he took his phone out from his pocket and answered the call.

"Sweetheart, how are - ?"

"Very funny, Roman!" V heard Avery's voice from the phone.

And then, all of a sudden, he felt shivers run up and down his spine.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?"

"What is this surprise, hmm?"

"Surprise? What surprise?"

"Huh? You just called me and told me to come back home because you have a surprise for me! There's no one here! Where are you right now? Are you with someone else?"

V snatched the phone from Roman's hand. Deciding to talk to Avery, himself, he said, "Miss Avery, it's me."

"V? Where are you right now? This is not funny! It's too dark in here! It's - "

"Listen, if you can get out of that house, then do not hesitate to do so now. We'll get back immediately and - "

"You are too late, Victor Blake."

V almost dropped the phone as he heard the unmistakable voice of Christopher Lancaster on the other end. And this made Roman go into full panic mode. He snatched the phone from V and started screaming at it.

"YOU, MONSTER! DON'T YOU PUT A SINGLE FINGER ON HER, OR I'LL - !"

"You cannot win against me. Now, if you want her back, I suggest you come over here and play. We have a score to settle, remember? Or have you forgotten about your dear, old friend? Come here, and let us end this. Is that clear, Victor?"

And with that cold and subtle warning that seemed to come straight from the grave, the phone died.

***

✒ A special thanks to @harlot-of-oblivion for teaching me the language of the flowers. ✒

✒ @la-vita , @micaelagua , @v-vic , @birdgirl69 , and @beyond-the-mirror . ✒

***

Little Phineas had no idea what he got himself into that day when he saw Lady (Y/N)'s fiancé and Roselle doing something,... strange,... in one of the guest rooms. The door happened to be slightly ajar, and being the curious little thing that he was, he took a peek,...

... and saw Lord Lancaster on top of Roselle. He was not wearing pants while she was totally naked. They looked like their bodies were connected as they seemingly trembled like they were trying to shake the bed, or something.

He was so confused, and despite this, he didn't tell anyone what he saw.

Then, one day, Lord Lancaster approached him with a smile on his face.

"Good boy. Little precious boy. Come over here." The older man beckoned as he kneeled before him. "Do you want a treat for being such a good boy?"

Well, what child would refused that?

With a smile on his face, he excitedly went towards the room that the doctor told him to get his treats,...

And then, darkness.

When he opened his eyes once more, he saw strange people in the house, particularly that man who looked like the poet Victor Blake. His clothes looked strange, and he has some strange dark markings on his skin.

"How can I be of service to you?" The man asked him.

***

✒✒✒

***