Chapter 28: "Lockdown"
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Oriana pov
I was lying in a dark, windowless room, with the soft sheets of my bed beneath me. The only source of light in the room was a red fire crackling in the fireplace. I rolled onto my side and stared into the purple fire, the flames flickering animatedly and casting shadows that covered the entire room like tentacles. It took me back, and I remembered what I had experienced at the "Happy Farm." It had been a few days now, but I hadn't left my room since the "accident." It took me some time to think about what had happened, what I had done to the people, and what had happened to me.
Of course, I asked Demiurge what I had done, as I was having a hard time remembering what happened during my little freakout. Just trying to remember gave me a bad headache, and so I decided it wasn't worth it. Demiurge was, of course, more than happy to provide answers. Apparently, after I transformed into this eldritch horor, I went completely insane and tortured these people to insanity. I had fed them their hearts and kept the blood pumping with my abilities.
Like a nerd, Demiurge had praised my methods as I tore out their arms and turned them into limbless torsos—how I made them count down from ten and make them suffer immeasurable torment at zero. I had torn out their eyes, and so their only indicator was the time that they themselves were counting down until they suffered again. Every time they stopped counting or slowed down, I let them experience hard failure by stopping the blood flow, which made them feel like their blood was turning to viscous tar.
Of course, I kept them alive for the time they were exposed to this treatment. Demiurge had told me with a proud grin that he had even been taking notes, and like a proud student, he had shown me his notebook that contained every single second of this dark event. Some people would now be thinking that they knew why I was locking myself in my bedroom; they would think I did this because I felt bad and couldn't live with myself and the horrible deeds I had committed.
But I really did not care.
It was not different from the other humans I had killed, with the only exception being that they had suffered more pain before they were allowed to die. I had not cared for the deaths of humans before; why should I have cared now, even if they did die more painfully? No, that was not the reason I was staying in this room; I had another motivation for this self-disciplined lockdown, or rather, two.
The first reason was very simple: I had used the time alone to think about what had happened, not during the torture season. Of course, I was more interested in what had happened, in what had presumptively been in my head, or rather, my subconscious, and thinking about that had brought me several conclusions.
The Europhonic feelings I had felt when I tortured the humans were in no way triggered by the torture itself, at least not directly. The feeling of happiness was more of a byproduct that I felt when I transformed into my true vampire form. My form was accessible at any time but could only be brought about through strong emotions, and torturing a person who was getting on my nerves was definitely very satisfying. Ohhhh, and how good it felt! The transformation brought an almost addictive feeling with it, one that urged me to transform, to let it all out...
but I knew better.
I had felt the influence on my mind—the first subtle control of the almost comforting tentecals that, after securing their control over my mind, revealed their vicious nature. They had bound me, flooded my mind with pleasure, and controlled my body like a puppet. It was a horrible feeling, and at the same time, it felt strangly good. Of course, I had talked with Ainz about this macabre event. I had told him about the pleasure I had felt, the loss of control, the white-haired woman, the strange red dimension, and my greatest fear...
It had been born after I saw what had happened in that basement and what I had done without sense. Of course, I had not cared about the humans or the furniture that had been damaged; that was something that I had completely overlooked. No! What scared me was this loss of control and my lack of ability to regain it. It had felt so easy to let go and let this pleasure control me, release those unwanted memories of my past life, and forget them forever, but the moment I remembered my mother, my resolve staggered. This single person had done too much for me; there was no way I would forget her like this.
After I told Ainz everything, he also appeared concerned and encouraged me afterwards. He told me not to worry and that I was strong enough to resist this siren song. And it felt good to talk to him; he showed that he believed in me and that even after coming to this world, we had remained friends. I remembered thinking that I was never good at social interaction. Sure, I had more friends in the guilt, and we regularly did things together, but I was never this "Let's do this" guy. In this aspect, Ainz and I were more similar than every other guilt member.
Still...
Even the encouragement from my friend was not able to ease my worries this time. Too much had happened in this new world that was out of my control; my emotions were just the tip of the iceberg.
I turned around in my bed, messing up the sheet while rolling over, and stared at the wall. It was too dangerous to go outside right now. I wanted to protect my friends and not endanger them. I was out of control, unpredictable, and feral while in my frenzy. It was a danger I was not willing to risk. After all, what I had shown Demiurge was not even my purest form. I had experienced it only once while I was in the game, and that was only by accident. It was something dangerous, not just for others but also for me; a mortal would die even seeing it.
While my form that I had shown Demiurge looked even remotely humanoid, my truest form was a living nightmare. It did not enhance my combat potential in the slightest, but it did make other things that I had no intention of experiencing outside the game after seeing what just my normal true vampire form did.
I sighed and held out my hand. As if on command, blood began to pool on my outstretched hand. It began to move, turn, and shape, and soon you could see the first outlines of a human figure. The humanoid's chest began to protrude slightly but stopped before it could even remotely reach my size. The white skin was very noticeable immediately, as was the soft white hair that flowed over the shoulders of the little doll-like girl. Her nails even grew longer than mine, but her head barely reached my chest. I snapped, and the little, sweet creature's eyes opened. We stared into each other's reassuring red eyes, but hers looked dead and lifeless.
[blood pupeteer]
An admin window opened and gave me access to the status of my sweet doll. I could see her level and skills, but that didn't interest me much. My attention immediately turned to the flavor text. It was empty, but thanks to my rare class, which also allowed me to create this little miracle, I was able to change it with a spell. It was like programming a living being; I could write what she liked, disliked, hated, or enjoyed. It was like I was creating life.
After concentrating on typing for a few minutes, I closed the window with satisfaction. I wasn't able to go out until I got my feelings under control, but the plans had to go ahead. Especially, the meeting of our organization that was supposed to take place in a few days couldn't be postponed, but with the personality that I had given my little doll, she was well equipped and would make a wonderful figurehead for an evil organization.
Yes, what a lovely little monster she would be.
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