Chapter 0:


A Bloody Methodology

“Ohhh mister Illa~ar~” The sweet voice of a woman alongside the tacks and taps from her footsteps resounded from a distance. “It’s time to take your medications!”

The man, Illar, with his arms bound by a rope, felt a chill run along his spine and flinched from within his cramp cell. “Don’t come near me, you demon!” He shouted as he crawls to the far corner of his cell.

In front of his cell was a torch, a single torch that illuminated just the entrance area of the cell. That was his only source of light. He did not know what time of the day it was. In fact, he does not know what day it currently is. All that he knows is, he has been imprisoned there for god knows how long that he’d be happy to talk to a rat.

The footsteps grew louder and deeper every second. Illar’s chest pumped greater than the previous, thumped along with the beat of the footsteps. If someone else were beside him, maybe he could have heard the beating of his heart.

Sweat trickled down his face profusely. His breathing shallowed. With a face full of fear, he squirms and struggles as he forces himself even further to the corner while screaming incomprehensibly, as if he lost his ability to speak.

Laughter filled dark space as Illar shrieks.

“Now, don’t say that.” The footsteps came to a halt, just a few inches away from the cell door. “I’ve prepared this medicine specifically for you and it’s not easy making this.”

When the woman came to a stop, the man could clearly see her face.

“F-fuck you!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “You… you made me sick and now y-you’re saying you want to treat me?”

The woman unlocked the cell door and stepped in. “Of course!” She said with a bright smile on her face, although Illar cannot see it because of the shadows. “I’m helping you to become more useful by aiding me and in turn, would help everybody else.”


“You are a criminal.” Before Illar could even continue, the woman spoke in a deep tone, devoid of life. “I could have been more lenient on my ‘treatment’ if you just ‘killed’. But you raped and killed someone. A child at that. And hid her corpse then acted all innocent.”

“I- I’m innocent. I was… I was possessed by a demon!” He replied in panic, a desperate attempt at defending himself. “Yes, I was possessed that night and then- mrgh!?”

A bottle was shoved into Illar’s mouth, forcefully downing the so-called medicine.

“You must be exhausted.” The woman pushed the bottle further into his mouth, making him flail his legs around.

Even with all the tossing, turning, and thrashing, the woman forced the bottle onto Illar’s mouth. “Now, now. Don’t move too much. I know the medicine doesn’t taste all that good, but it’s supposed to help you recover.” She locked the head of Illar with her other arm while feeding him the medicine as she spoke.

The bottle was emptied but the man was convulsing. His eyes white and his mouth foamed. Illar couldn’t even raise so much as a moan because of the thing he was just fed. His mind started to be fuzzy and even muttered a few things.

“Don’t worry, Myra… I’ll be home… by nightfall…” The woman heard his mumbling whisper and grinned from ear to ear.

“Myra. She’s your wife, yes? I heard she is pregnant with a child.” Illar awoke from his stupor with eyes wide open. “I wonder who was that man she was with?” She continued, pondering while looking at the ceiling with crossed arms.

“No… NO! That’s impossible!” He sat back up and looked straight into the woman’s eyes, confirming if her words hold true. Illar inched closer to the woman, waiting for her answer.

“Well, who knows. Maybe she was never in love with you and had an affair before you married. Maybe the child inside her isn’t yours, but her lover from her affair.” She shrugged.

The woman gathered the things she once brought in earlier and walked out of the cell. The man quietly kneeled there with his head downcast.

Clack, the key turned and the door locked. The woman walked away, not saying word. The clacking of the door lock and the tacks from the woman’s shoes were all naught but silence to Illar, who silently wept in that cold and dark cell, illuminated only by a torch.

The woman could only grin.

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