Anthesis of Sadness
Chapter 134: Rest, My Sweet Monster

Chapter 134: Rest, My Sweet Monster

The voice returned.

That voice.

That fucking voice.

It didn’t need to scream. It didn’t need to strike me. It didn’t need to exist loudly. It insinuated itself. Softly. Smoothly. A whisper in iced sugar, in slicing silk, that sank into my neck like a blade into a still-warm wound. It wasn’t strong. It was surgical.

— Pathetic. As always. You’re not enough.

It hadn’t changed. No emotion. No surprise. Just that icy certainty. As if my fall wasn’t a tragedy. But a logical outcome. A failure expected.

— I told you to let me handle it.

And that’s when the shiver climbed. From the base of my spine to my teeth. Slowly. Like a needle, like a screw. A creaking sound came with it. Not around me. But inside me. A laugh. A laugh coming from within. A laugh that had no throat. No breath. A dry laugh. Bony. A laugh with no saliva. No lips. An idol’s laugh. A thing’s laugh.

I screamed.

I screamed like a volcano cracking open. My voice was no longer mine. It was an animal cry. A nuclear cry. A cry that wanted to collapse reality.

— I’LL KILL YOU!! I’LL KILL YOU ALL!!

My throat exploded. My voice burst the air like a shockwave, an invisible wall of fire. It didn’t come out. It tore through space.

— I’M GOING TO KILL EVERY BEING IN THIS WORLD!! YOU HEAR ME?? EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!!! ALL OF YOU!!!

— I’LL DEVOUR YOU!!!

— BREAK YOU!!!

— EXTINGUISH YOU!!!

— I’LL KILL EVERYONE!!!

I was no longer a man.

I was no longer a beast.

I was a curse screaming at itself.

I was a scream made flesh.

And the world... had better tremble.

And then... something opened inside me.

Not a wound. Not a thought. A rift. An ancient chasm. A forbidden kingdom, lurking beneath the layers of the self, that I had never wanted to see, but that had always been there, throbbing in the dark, waiting for me to give in, to scream, to bleed just enough for it to come out.

I didn’t summon it.

It opened on its own.

And an unholy aura poured out. A vapor. A tide. Black, red, liquid, incandescent. It seeped from my pores, climbed up my arms, twisted around my legs, coiled around my throat like a starving lover, a cannibal goddess, a serpent of fabric and fever. It embraced me. It worshipped me. And in the same breath... it spread.

It tore itself from my skin, from my guts, as if I was birthing a storm. An exudation. A vile parturition. It gushed from my pores, from my scars, from wounds never closed. It turned me inside out like a rotting fruit. And I let it. On others. On everything. It spread like a beautiful plague. A soft curse. A pact that asked nothing, but took everything.

Lustful Dominance.

That name echoed in my skull like an ancient tongue. Not a word. A venom. A pact. An offering. A seal. And at once, the world faltered.

Chaos.

The stands stirred. The spectators. The souls. The entities. Even those who thought themselves beyond reach. All were touched. All. Not struck. Corrupted. There was no scream. No explosion. First, a tremor. Subtle. Intimate. Something in the chest. A tension. A shiver.

Then warmth.

Slow. Enveloping. A caress coming from within.

Then a pulse.

Not a thought. A necessity. A need.

And then... the mask of the world began to melt.

Desire rose, crawling, obsessive. The need. The forbidden. The frustration. The jealousy. The lust. Every repressed emotion suddenly found its way. Every silenced thought rose like a blade. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t pleasure. It was the crack. The breach opened between oneself and what one denies. It wasn’t seduction. It was hunger.

And I was the source.

Not the king.

But the sin.

The barriers fell.

All of them.

Not slowly. Not gracefully. They shattered, all at once. As if every heart had been compressed for too long and, under the pressure of my aura, burst in a spasm. They began to look at each other differently. No longer as allies. Nor as enemies. Not even as beings. They looked at each other like ripe fruit about to burst. Like a secret begging to be defiled. Like a wound they wanted to lick.

Their eyes devoured each other.

Their desires clawed at each other.

Their souls twisted inside.

They craved what the other had always hidden — a forbidden gesture, a warped thought, a shameful fantasy. They no longer resisted. They revealed their monsters. Released them. Offered them. And all of it... in silence, at first.

Then, the carnage.

Claws sprang from backs too tense.

Kisses turned into bites.

Bodies embraced to tear open, to rip, to lacerate. Moans of pleasure mixed with death rattles. Ecstasy and death danced together, tongue to tongue, breath to breath.

Couples slaughtered each other between spasms.

Tongues torn out as kisses.

Genitals severed like offerings.

Hands that opened bellies to bury their urges inside, like children looking for God in their mother’s entrails.

Lust was no longer a sin.It was a law. A pulse burned into their bursting hearts.

Friends carved each other up while kissing.

Sisters disemboweled each other laughing.

And me?

I laughed.

I no longer knew where I was. I no longer knew if I was. Everything spun. And in that vortex of sacred horror, I saw things. Faces that weren’t there. Mouths in the walls. Eyes in the sky. Screams calling me by other names. Maybe I was already dead. Maybe I was becoming God. Maybe I was nothing more than an organ, a mouth, a sex, an offering.

I screamed with laughter.

A pure laugh. Freed from all morality. An uncontrollable, sharp, apocalyptic laugh. A laugh of a child-god watching the anthill burn. A laugh that came not from the throat, but from the belly, the blood, the bones. I spun on myself, arms wide, drunk on myself, eyes crossed by pure ecstasy — the ecstasy of collapse. A naked prophet in the blaze of blasphemy.

— YOU MUST ALL DIE!!!!!! YOU ARE MY FLESH!! MY LAUGHTER!! MY ALTAR!!!!

The world burned.

Burned with desire.

And me...

I was the fire.

And a voice rose, above the moans, the screams, the mutilated orgasms.

A child’s voice.

A voice from the abyss.

— Having fun, my broken prince?

She didn’t scream. She didn’t impose. She trickled into the ears, like a tear into a hollow skull. She carried a certainty that couldn’t be challenged.

— Look at them. Your saints. Your martyrs. Your lovers. Your beasts. You’ve freed them all.

A pause. Then, softer:

— You want to be the enemy of the world, Lukaris? Very well. But be it to the end.

She was already approaching. The world dissolved around her, unable to contain her.

Her.

The little girl.

Still there.

Still motionless. Still intact. As if nothing of this world could touch her, neither blood, nor screams, nor the collapse of all logic. She stood there, upright, tiny, at the heart of my chaos — and her smile... began to stretch. Slowly. Too slowly. A distortion. A displaced curve.

A smile too wide.

Too human to be real.

Too unreal to belong to a human.

A smile with no edge. That stretched like a crack in a mask. And in that smile, I recognized something.

Someone.

A reflection.

That of the god.

The one I hated.

The one I carried.

The one who laughed when I screamed.

The one who slept beneath my nerves.

She didn’t flinch.

Not an emotion. Not a tremor. Just a forward movement. Silent. Fluid. Inevitable. She approached, as if the whole world had stopped to let her pass. And with a slow gesture, almost maternal grace, she raised a finger. It dripped with a red so dark it seemed ancient. Fossilized blood. Blood from before the wars. She brought that finger to my mouth.

And placed a single drop of that sacrilegious liquid on my lips.

She whispered.

Her voice was soft.

Terrible.

Final.

— Rest, my sweet monster. This world is not ready yet.

And then, she struck.

A single blow.

Not spectacular. Not brutal. A mere touch. But it felled everything. My skull cracked in a single line, like a sacred stone broken at its core. My body disintegrated, in waves, in layers, in essence. My flesh did not fall. It vanished. My consciousness... shattered. Like glass crushed under a bare foot.

I never knew what remained of me after that.

I still don’t.

Only... the black.

A dense black.

Complete.

Motionless.

Without pain.

Without light.

Without voice.

Without life.

And somewhere, in that black... a voice whispered again.

— See you soon, my sweet puppet.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.