Volume 10 Chapter 8 Crimson Stage
In a corner of the graveyard surrounded by crosses...
There was a moonlit stage adorned with crimson petals.
The crimson moon shone down, casting its light on the crimson crosses.
The sound of a pipe organ, clear and high, descended from the heavens.
Riding on that melody, a crimson butterfly danced.
It was like a grand ball in a palace... solemn, fantastical, and sacred.
There, the Funeral Director stood.
The Funeral Director had already dug the grave and was hanging black curtains around it, scattering crimson petals.
And then, he carefully arranged the deceased around the grave.
So as not to cause any injuries, he worked gently, meticulously...
With this, the preparations for the funeral were complete.
"...Phew"
It was the usual work.
But due to age, it was starting to take a toll on the body.
The Funeral Director wiped the sweat from his forehead, taking a deep breath.
Unconsciously, he closed his eyes, listening to the pipe organ and hymns echoing from the town.
...It was a nice sound.
It was probably more effective for the deceased's soul than his own clumsy hymns.
"...I'm still not used to it. No matter how much time passes."
The Funeral Director let out a wry smile.
"It can't be helped, I suppose."
Eliza approached, clinging to the Funeral Director like a vine.
Ting-ting-ting... she rang a small bell.
The Funeral Director took her hand, gently lifting the veil that covered her face.
Her beautiful, unadorned face was revealed under the moonlight.
"Soon, this job will be over. Then..."
"Yes... we'll be together, forever."
On the crimson moonlit stage, the two shared a kiss.
Whenever they were in pain, they had always done this.
They had buried the dismembered body of a child abandoned in a toilet, the tightly packed bodies of infants in a barrel, and the liquefied remains of a body left unattended... countless times, countless times, countless times.
Whenever his heart felt like he was dying, he had always shared his suffering with Eliza.
...When did he first start this job?
Suddenly, the Funeral Director wondered.
It must have been back then.
――When I die... please, forget about me.
The voice of his former lover echoed in the Funeral Director's mind.
She was a girl who was more pure, beautiful, and kind-hearted than anyone else.
However, after she died, she was treated like trash.
Those who didn't receive baptism or sacraments would fall into hell when they died.
That was the rule set by God.
The same was true of the Funeral Director's lover. She wasn't even allowed to be buried near others, and was discarded in a lonely grave in a desolate wilderness.
The priest's companions all said the same thing to the Funeral Director.
――It's what God wanted.
――Forget about the dead and move on.
But...
"...I won't forget."
He doesn't want to forget. He can't forget.
But time is cruel... it erases all memories, both precious and beautiful, equally.
Her cute smile, her voice when she called out his name...
Day by day, they're disappearing into the haze of memory.
He's starting to forget.
If this keeps up, he'll be left behind.
But...this suffering will soon be over.
She'll be back soon.
The Funeral Director gazed down at the infant on the altar. The skin, illuminated by the moon, shone like pearls. It reminded him of Eliza's beautiful skin.
"...Just a little more... just a little more, and it'll be complete... so..."
Suddenly, the sound of dry sand crumbling came from behind.
It was someone's footsteps.
When he looked up, someone was there.
It was as if they had emerged from the darkness. They were covered in a black mantle that blended into the night, and wore a pointed blue crystal mask that resembled a crow's head, hiding their face.
It was the rumored figure, so he immediately knew their true identity.
The Funeral Director quietly opened his mouth.
"――Won't you spare me, Phantom?"
* * *
One corner of the graveyard hidden behind the cross――.
There was a moonlit stage, decorated with crimson bloodstains.
The crimson moon illuminated the crimson, convulsing flesh.
The sound of a pipe organ, like a mournful scream, descended from the heavens.
The one dancing madly to that melody, drenched in blood, is a crimson butterfly.
It's like a cursed dance party... twisted, decadent, and nightmarish.
There, the Funeral Director stood.
He was speaking of love with his "lover" in front of a mountain of corpses.
On the altar, he was dissecting a red child with a knife and fork.
It looked like a dining scene, but it was different.
He was peeling off the child's skin.
Pitter-patter-patter-pat...
Like peeling a fruit, slowly and carefully.
When I saw the wooden pendant on the child's neck, which had become a tomato-like lump on the altar... I felt an intense urge to vomit and instinctively turned away.
But I couldn't avert my gaze from the Funeral Director.
"――Won't you spare me, Phantom?"
The Funeral Director said quietly.
In the depths of his round glasses, a crimson moonlight dwelled.
His eyes were like frozen phosphorescence, radiating an icy chill.
Not a glimmer of sanity in them.
'It seems you're quite popular, being known by that one too.'
"It's not something to be proud of, though."
It would've been better if I hadn't been known. Especially by someone like him.
"Why did you come here?"
The Funeral Director asked calmly, just like when we chatted in front of the orphanage.
My answer was only one.
"I came to steal it. The 'Undead King's' cursed equipment."
"I see. So it's true, just like the rumors."
He muttered softly, without emotion.
It seemed he didn't have the sense of having seen something he shouldn't have.
He was too calm, too indifferent.
His heart seemed to have died already.
That's probably why... he can keep 'that thing' by his side.
I gazed at the "lover" beside the Funeral Director once more.
The woman wore a luxurious dress like a evening gown.
However, her face, hidden behind a veil, was now exposed under the moonlight.
...It didn't look like a living being's face at all.
Her skin was a patchwork of stitches, with black holes where her eyes should be.
It was obvious that she was artificial. Just like a doll made by piecing together human skin... or rather, that's probably exactly what she was. Around the Funeral Director, there were numerous corpses with their skin peeled off, some with their flesh carved out. And inside the skin, there were... other people's things.
Clearly, she was dead. Yet, she was moving.
The only conclusion that could be drawn from this fact was that the Funeral Director was a being that controlled the dead ――an Undead King.
"Isn't she beautiful, my Eliza?"
The Funeral Director gently stroked the face of his "lover". He gazed at her with affection, with compassion.
His "lover" also leaned into him, entrusting her body to the Funeral Director's chest.
"I gathered the most beautiful materials from many and recreated her. To get closer to the beautiful Eliza she was when she was alive, you see..."
"...Beautiful? That?"
I couldn't understand.
If I only looked at her silhouette, she seemed like a beautiful lover...
But tonight, the moon was too bright.
When illuminated by the light, it was a gruesome scene that reeked of decay.
"So... you weren't gathering corpses to bury them?"
"No, this is my funeral."
The Funeral Director spread his arms wide, indicating the mountain of corpses behind him.
"Those who were discarded like trash and sent to hell... aren't they pitiful? That's why I bring them back to life."
"Bring them back to life?"
"Ah, as Eliza, yes. This is... a great honor."
"Honor..."
I had no idea what he was talking about.
We were having a conversation, but it felt like we were talking past each other.
"You were gathering corpses at the orphanage for the same reason...?"
"The orphanage? Ah..."
The Funeral Director nodded as if remembering something.
With a gentle smile, he picked up a thin piece of skin that was placed on the altar.
It was still stained with blood and fat ――a freshly peeled human skin.
"That place has good skin."
...I lost my words.
I wanted to say a lot of things, but I forgot everything... and for a while, I couldn't say a word.
"Senior Rikka... what kind of thoughts did she have when she sent you off?"
"Huh? Ah, now that I think of it, her name was Rikka. The girl from the orphanage..."
The Funeral Director continued, looking straight at me.
"――That 'material' has good eyes."
"Eh..."
He said it so casually that for a moment, I didn't understand what he meant.
My brain refused to comprehend it.
Material? Did he just call Senior Rikka that?
Ah, I see...
I took a deep breath and told him.
"...I understand."
There's no way we can see eye to eye.
It's pointless to talk any more.
Our words will never intersect.
Honestly, I don't care about the peace of the dead.
I just want the living to be happy.
So, I... summoned a sword in my right hand.
A blue crystal sword that shone in the moonlight.
It looked great on this red stage with its transparent blue color.
"...I don't like violence, though. It's not beautiful."
The Funeral Director shrugged and pulled out a skull from his chest.
A demonic, misshapen skull that seemed to belong to a king.
It was both terrifying and majestic.
"Cursed equipment...!"
"Just a little more, and Eliza will be complete. She'll come back to me. So――"
The Funeral Director put on the skull like a mask.
"――Don't get in the way, Phantom."
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