The Night the Devil Smiled

Bel stood frozen, his entire body trembling as he took in the horror before him.

His wide, unblinking eyes darted from the rapier impaled into the ground, Albert's severed head grotesquely mounted upon its blade, to the woman standing beyond, her dagger resting against her lips in a soft, almost regretful smile.

"Oh, boy," she sighed, her golden eyes shimmering with something close to pity. "I didn't want you to see this. I made sure to spare you, as a little reward for your the delight of face. But now… now I'm far too excited." Her head tilted slightly, her expression gentle yet chilling. "I can't ignore you anymore."

Bel shuddered violently, stumbling back a step. His breath hitched, his heart pounding like a trapped bird against his ribs. His entire body screamed at him to run, to put as much distance as possible between himself and the nightmare standing before him.

The woman stepped forward without hesitation, completely unfazed.

"Why are you hesitating?" she asked, her voice warm, almost motherly. "You were so brave to come here. Why retreating now?" Her smile widened, golden eyes never breaking from his.

She extended a hand, slipping the dagger behind her back as if trying to reassure him.

"Come closer," she coaxed, her tone soft, and comforting, like a mother calling to a lost child. "You don't have to be afraid."

Bel clenched his fists, his breathing ragged. He wanted to run, to move, to do anything, but his legs were frozen in place.

The woman's voice curled around him, smooth and commanding.

"Tell me... Bel," she murmured, "what brought you here?"

The words echoed inside his skull, growing louder, digging into his mind. His hands shot up to his head, gripping his temples as if trying to crush the sound away.

"You… you're here because…" His voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper. His body trembled from the effort of forming words. "Because of me…"

The woman's smile deepened, but she shook her head slowly.

"No, no, Bel." Her voice was gentle, almost soothing. "You're not responsible for this. I'm here because of the Baron, or rather… something he possesses. That's all."

Bel gasped, his mind clearing just enough to focus. His hands lowered slightly, the haze lifting.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak.

"Then why… why did you kill everyone?"

The woman held his gaze, unblinking, unbothered. Then, with a small, almost lazy shrug, she replied:

"Collateral damage."

This casual answer completely froze Bel's mind.

Collateral damage. The words rang in his head, hollow and simple.

Before he could process it, the manor groaned, its structure failing under the flames. From the burning ruins, the two monstrous figures emerged.

Bel's breath hitched. They were grotesque, their glowing eyes locked onto him like predators savoring their prey.

This wasn't a threat, it was something torn straight from the most horrifying stories he had ever heard. And now, he was living it.

The woman stepped closer, her expression too soft for the horrors she had unleashed. Her golden eyes shimmered with something almost tender, and her smile… it was caring, as though she truly pitied him.

"Oh, Bel," she cooed. "You're trembling. Would you like me to hold you?"

The air wavered again. A sickening distortion twisted the space around him. His knees buckled as his vision blurred, the world stretching and warping. His head pounded, the pressure unbearable.

Her fingers brushed along his jaw, feather-light yet ice-cold, sending a shiver down his spine.

"I should keep you," she whispered, her voice smooth, velvety. "I know, I'll peel off your lovely face and sew it onto a puppet. That way, I can always remember you."

A strangled sound caught in Bel's throat. His limbs refused to move. His breath came in short, panicked bursts. He couldn't think. He couldn't act.

The Baron and Dusteria stood frozen in place, trapped in the same horror he felt, unable to look away.

Then, a flash of gold.

The Baron, trembling, lifted a golden crucifix high into the air.

Everything stopped.

The woman froze, her fingers hovering just inches from Bel's face. The fire crackled, the manor groaned, but the moment itself became still, suspended in a silence as if time itself had stopped.

The Baron's chest heaved, his grip iron-tight around the artifact, his face contorted in defiant rage and terror.

Slowly, unnaturally, the woman twisted her head toward him. A full, impossible 120-degree turn, her neck bending with a grotesque crack.

Her golden eyes widened, her lips curling into a too-wide grin, something sinister stretching across her face like a mask.

The Baron did not hesitate.

His voice, though shaking, rang in a deep shout.

"By the light of the heavens, by the hand of the divine, I cast thee back into the abyss. Demon, be unmade. May the holy fire consume your wicked soul."

The crucifix ignited.

A brilliant golden light burst from its center, waves of divine energy rolling outward. The air vibrated, the ground trembling beneath its force.

The monsters shrieked, their bodies convulsing as the sacred flames latched onto them, covering them like paper in a furnace.

The woman staggered. The holy light danced over her skin, smoldering. Smoke curled from her flesh, the fire licking hungrily at her body.

Dusteria gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.

"A… a crucifix…?" she breathed, eyes wide in disbelief.

The Baron straightened, his fear turning into something else, something triumphant. He let out a cold laugh, gripping the artifact as if savoring the moment.

"Ah, so this little thing finally shows its worth!" he spat, glaring at the burning woman. "You demon! You thought yourself untouchable, didn't you? But this… this is the true treasure of the barony! A relic blessed by the divine itself!"

Dusteria stiffened.

"There was really a treasure…?"

She had heard about it only today from the woman, so it looked like an excuse for a massacre to her, but here it was. Real, undeniable, in the hands of the one who swore not having it

The Baron sneered, watching the flames engulf his enemy, watching her body crack and burn.

"So you really did have it," a voice rose from the inferno.

The Baron froze, his triumph shattered into disbelief. The golden fire that had consumed the woman flickered and faded, revealing the body beneath.

Her skin, scorched and cracked, barely clung to her frame. Half of her face remained engulfed in smoldering embers, but as the fire retreated, it exposed something far worse, a demonic eye, burning with unnatural light, and the grotesque remains of her face twisted into something inhuman.

The Baron stumbled back, his breath coming in short gasps.

"Impossible…" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. His hands trembled, still half-raised in a futile prayer.

The woman tilted her head, golden eye glimmering with amusement.

"The sacred relic… such a wonderful tool for repelling evil," she mused. "And you wielded it well, Baron. Your faith, the way you sacrificed one hundred people for this result… I must say, I'm impressed."

Then her smile sharpened.

"But it's time to stop playing."

The Baron's lips parted, his voice shaking as he began to chant again.

"By the light of-"

A glint of silver.

The dagger pierced his eye.

A sickening squelch followed by a burst of searing pain sent him collapsing onto his knees, a choked scream ripping from his throat.

He clutched at his face, blood spilling hot and thick between his fingers. His vision blurred, pain consuming every inch of his being.

"No need to waste time, don't you think?" the woman remarked lightly, almost hastily.

The Baron's grip loosened, and the golden crucifix tumbled from his grasp, landing with a dull clang on the scorched ground.

The woman stepped forward, lowering herself to pick it up, but then, she stopped. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips as she straightened, leaving the relic where it lay.

"Take it," she instructed, her voice carrying an amused lilt.

One of the monstrous creatures stepped forward, its massive body looming over the sacred object. The fire had ceased spreading across its body, leaving only charred flesh and glowing embers. It reached down, its clawed hand closing around the crucifix.

The moment it touched the divine relic, its hand ignited.

A guttural roar tore from its throat as holy flames devoured its flesh. The monster staggered, the sacred fire latching onto its very being, refusing to be denied.

The woman chuckled, watching the scene with mild curiosity.

"Ah, so it really is the real thing. A true divine treasure." She turned her attention back to the Baron, who remained kneeling, his scream reduced to ragged, shuddering breaths.

She retrieved her dagger, her steps slow, deliberate, savoring every moment.

"Now, let's make something beautiful together," she murmured in a melodic tone, her words dripping with anticipation. "You will be my masterpiece. And once I'm done, I'll pay your lovely daughter a visit."

Dusteria stood frozen in horror. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Her body refused to obey her. The woman's golden eye flickered toward her, her grin widening.

"And of course," she whispered sweetly, turning toward the last victim of her show. "I always save the best for last. My beautiful doll…"

Then, she stopped.

Her entire body went rigid mid-sentence.

On the ground, Bel writhed in agony. His body convulsed violently, his fingers clawing at the scorched earth.

His skin was burned, deep, raw patches leaving behind smoldering wounds that shouldn't have been there.

The crucifix's light had burned him, a sacred flame meant only for demons.

For the first time, the woman's smile faltered.