NOMAMWTM Chapter 13

Charlotte turned around.

"Hm?"

No one was behind her.

She'd thought she heard footsteps—had she been mistaken?

It might have been sounds made by the unusually numerous blobs rolling around.

She didn't pay it much attention and looked at the other paintings.

The first painting she'd seen seemed to indeed depict a story from mythology. All the paintings in this room dealt with myths famous enough for her to recognize at a glance.

Thump-thump-thump!

"...?"

Then the sound came again. This time it was definitely someone's footsteps.

"Michael?"

She turned around and called out, but there were still only her and the rabbit in the room, and Michael was nowhere to be seen. She didn't sense anyone's presence either.

Wasn't it Michael returning? Then whose footsteps were those?

Was there a servant inside?

When she looked away from the dim space again, thinking it was strange, the blobs that had been clustered together rolling around on the floor and on the frames of paintings suddenly flew up.

The candle flames that had been peacefully flickering shook wildly and went out.

Only one candelabra's flame had gone out, but perhaps because there weren't many candelabras to begin with, the room full of paintings became much darker than before.

"Hey..."

They really weren't helping.

Charlotte was about to glare at the blobs when she paused.

She didn't know what had set them off this time, but they were clustered together in a mass.

Crowded together like that, they looked several times more disgusting than usual, with only eyeballs gathered on top of the pitch-black thing.

"Could you guys..."

She was grumbling, about to ask if they couldn't stay apart from each other.

Thump-thump thump-thump thump thump-thump-thump!

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump thump thump-thump!

Suddenly the same footsteps as before were heard right behind her.

As if someone were running toward her from behind with all their might.

Shiver.

Maybe because it had gotten darker than before. An eerie feeling washed over her. Charlotte whipped her head around.

A large shadow was rippling on the wall.

For a moment her breath stopped.

"...Oh, what."

But not long after, she realized it was her own shadow. Charlotte let out a deep sigh.

Michael wasn't the type to run around like this, so probably a servant had been inside and run away.

The sound must have echoed, making her mistake it for being right behind her.

This was a place where even small sounds echoed, so it was entirely possible.

From the sound of those footsteps, they seemed to have fled in a panic—maybe they were having a private moment?

Charlotte remembered the story Maria had told her when they'd read a pulp novel called Tryst in the Estate Warehouse together—that reality was even more than books, that servants found their way into any even slightly secluded place like ghosts for their messy affairs—and chuckled.

But still feeling a bit creeped out, Charlotte decided to tour the rest another time and moved on to the next room inside to find Michael.

"Ah."

Michael wasn't in this room either, but beyond the open doorway, past several rooms, she could see light faintly.

That must be where Michael was.

She began walking a bit faster.

However, at that moment.

The blobs—which really weren't even a mouse's fart worth of help—flew up from here and there and put out all the candles.

In an instant, pitch-black darkness descended.

"Hey, wait just a..."

Charlotte's face crumpled.

Perhaps the blobs from the connected rooms had all joined in the prank too—the light from beyond that had been faintly visible just moments ago suddenly disappeared as well.

It became completely dark.

"Nero?"

To make things worse, even Nero, who'd been giving comfort with his warm body heat in her arms, seemed to have jumped down—her arms were suddenly empty.

"Michael? Can you hear me?"

She tried calling Michael again, hoping to find some shred of hope, but no sound came back.

The gallery must have been too large for the sound to reach.

She tried feeling around the floor with her foot to at least find Nero, but nothing touched.

What should she do?

She couldn't see anything, making it uncomfortable to move.

She moved sideways and barely found the wall to lean against.

Tik.

It was then that she heard an incongruous sound from somewhere.

It was a very small sound, so Charlotte, who'd been feeling along the wall and taking a few steps forward, didn't hear it at first.

However,

Tik.

Tik-tik.

Tik.

Tikkkk-tikkkk.

Before long, the sound like viscous liquid dropping one drop, two drops clearly dug into her ears.

The moment her ears, which had gradually become sensitive instead of being able to see anything, recognized it, the sound became sharp.

A sound familiar from somewhere.

Charlotte paused.

What sound was this?

Tik.

Tik. Tik.

Tik.

Something touched her nerves.

Tik-tik.

Tik.

Tikkkk.

The color gradually drained from her face.

The moment she realized when she'd heard this sound—

Tikkkkkkkkkkk.

Like an auditory hallucination, the sound stretched out long.

She couldn't breathe.

The quiet, cold winter air seemed to brush past the tip of her nose.

On that quiet morning, the day her mother—the only one who'd loved her—died.

What had dripped from her mother's fingers, tik, tik-tik—

Tikkkkkkkkkkk.

Even though she couldn't see anything, Charlotte whipped her head around.

Though it should have been too dark to see anything, she saw something.

Or rather,

Portraits hung countless on the wall,

Two portraits with their faces blackened and damaged yet with glowing eyes stared straight at her,

And below them a woman had collapsed.

And below that, blood-red blood pooled like a—

"Charlotte?"

Zzzt-zzzt-zzzt.

At the same time as the familiar voice was heard, the pitch-black vision brightened, spreading from the center.

Charlotte slowly turned her head.

Who knew when the lights had come on—the surroundings were bright as if the dim vision had just been something her imagination created.

Michael stood in front of her.

"...Mi, chael."

She forced the voice out with difficulty.

"Yes, Charlotte."

Michael answered as if nothing had happened.

As if nothing had happened? There was definitely behind her— Charlotte turned her head toward what she'd seen earlier.

She was standing right in front of a wall covered with portraits.

Just like what she'd seen, for some reason the last two portraits attached there had damaged faces.

And below them...

...Nothing, there was nothing at all.

She blinked.

There was no pool of blood-red blood, no collapsed woman. Nothing at all.

Only the blobs were rolling around on the red carpet laid beneath the portraits.

Nero, who she'd felt around for with her foot but couldn't feel earlier and who'd seemed to have disappeared from her side, was also sitting quietly at her feet.

"...Ha."

She, who'd been frozen, let out a weak laugh at the feeling of something releasing.

"Charlotte?"

Michael's puzzled voice seeped into her ears, muffled from the tension that had shot up to its limit.

Charlotte, who'd bent down to pick up Nero, quickly shook her head.

"...It's nothing. More importantly, the lights suddenly went out..."

"...There seems to have been a problem with the lamps. I've turned them back on, so there's no need to worry."

Michael answered in a stiff voice, still apparently in a bad mood.

But she didn't have the presence of mind to worry about him.

She wanted to leave this place. As quickly as possible.

"Did you enjoy looking around?"

She nodded roughly.

"Yes. Let's go back now."

Her entire body felt as heavy as if soaked.

Michael—whether or not he'd noticed her exhausted state—obediently brought her out of the gallery.

She'd wanted Michael to stay with her, but he left after bringing her to the bedroom, saying he had things to deal with.

Charlotte sprawled out on the bed and stared blankly at the ceiling where blobs were stuck here and there.

Tok-tok. Tok-tok-tok.

The sound of raindrops tapping the window echoed through the quiet room.

The hallucination she'd seen in the gallery passed before her eyes once more.

She raised her arm and covered her eyes.

Was the problem that she'd been occasionally thinking of her mother since saving Michael's mother a few days ago?

Or was it because magic kept popping out unexpectedly, stimulating her in a bad way?

Since there was no way ghosts existed in this world, it must have been an auditory and visual hallucination created by a combination of the creepiness planted by the servants' footsteps from the start, the pitch-black darkness that descended, and her unconscious mind.

The sound of blood drops falling, the collapsed woman—that is, her mother—the pool of blood...

Like, yes, a nightmare.

After lying without moving for a long time, once all the lingering fear had passed, she buried her mother's memory down, and further down, firmly this time.

Even after that, she stayed still for a long while—how much time had passed?—then let out a whoosh sigh.

"Of all things to see, I had to see that."

She grumbled and sat up.

The blobs were energetically rolling around nearby.

Their appearance was strangely annoying.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes.

"Come to think of it, it's because of you guys."

The magic lamps going out had definitely been her fault, but even the candles going out completely was because of those blobs.

It wouldn't have been that scary if it hadn't been pitch black.

She glared at the blobs, but as if they knew nothing, they rolled their eyeballs round and round and kept rolling on their way.

They were unbearably brazen.

"You're all I have."

Charlotte eventually let out a deep sigh and petted Nero, who was lying beside her.

Or rather, tried to pet him.

But Nero betrayed her too.

"Ow!"

As it turned out, he hadn't just been lying there but was eating a small bundle of greens from who knows where, and the baby rabbit bit Charlotte hard as if to say don't disturb him.

It was only sharp enough to sting, but Charlotte was flabbergasted.

"Hey, you guys..."

There was no use being good to them.

Feeling wronged, she looked back and forth between the utterly ungrateful creatures, then realized the thoughts that had been crowding her head had somehow dispersed thanks to them, and ended up letting out a laugh that came out flat and tired.

She flicked the blobs to knock them tumbling under the bed, and poked at Nero's cheeks, which were bulging full of greens. Her own small revenge.

This rabbit especially ate whenever he had a chance.

"Are you a pig?"

As if understanding her scolding, Nero turned his head sharply away.

That was cute too, so Charlotte ended up bursting into laughter.

Her sunken mood had somehow returned to normal.

Knock-knock.

It was then that the sound of knocking came.