NOMAMWTM Chapter 23

Charlotte opened her eyes in pitch-black space.

A place she felt she'd been before—filled only with deep darkness.

She blinked, then began walking aimlessly.

The darkness-shrouded space felt strangely comforting rather than frightening.

How long had she walked?

"......"

She realized she'd entered a space filled with countless people without noticing.

Looking around, she saw the black space packed with people—too many to count.

At a glance, hundreds.

The buzz of chatter rang distantly in her ears.

Why were they gathered?

Charlotte, who'd never seen so many people in her life, tilted her head.

Meanwhile, the black space had transformed into a vast interior lit by magical lights.

Surprisingly bright and spacious for an indoor space.

What were they doing here?

She stood on her toes to see what was ahead, but being in the very back row, even craning her neck only showed other people's backs.

"Why are we gathered?"

She tapped the back of someone in front of her.

But that person didn't turn around.

"Excuse me, what is this place?"

Charlotte raised her voice slightly.

Still, no one turned around.

"Excuse me—"

"Save me."

Just as she squinted and prepared to shout again, someone's voice cut clearly through the chattering noise.

Save me?

Charlotte paused at the voice that didn't match the joyful atmosphere.

Then one person in front turned their head.

Another person turned their head back.

Another.

Another.

Eventually, everyone turned their heads.

Charlotte's fingertips trembled.

All the standing people looked young. Most appeared between their teens and twenties, with some looking even younger.

But all of them—

In positions impossible unless their neck bones were broken, bodies facing forward while their faces turned completely backward to stare at her.

An impossibly eerie sight. Charlotte stepped back.

"Save me."

One person said.

"Save me."

Another said.

"Save me."

"Save me."

"Save me."

The voices grew louder.

Charlotte's face drained of color.

Their faces—smiling widely while begging to be saved—melted into black.

"Savemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesaveme..."

She turned and ran.

The people—no, the monsters—whose faces had melted black, now melting down to their bodies, chased her.

"Savemeeeeeeeeeee"

Someone grabbed her ankle.

She shook them off and ran and ran.

Cold sweat poured down.

How long had she fled?

She'd returned to that pitch-black space from before.

Running too fast to breathe, she finally slowed and looked back.

The monsters were gone.

"Hah, hah, hah..."

She stopped, gasping for breath.

What was that?

Truly terrifying.

She crouched for a long while catching her breath. Only after her pounding heart fully calmed did she slowly stand.

She began walking again.

Before long, she found herself walking through a familiar estate.

Cardium Estate.

Passing through the west wing corridor, she soon spotted a familiar back and brightened.

Michael.

"Michael!"

"Charlotte."

But Michael's face when he turned was extremely cold.

Charlotte froze.

Before him lay a pool of bright red blood.

In that pool lay Jeina, Tom, and four other servants.

"What...?"

A chill ran through her.

"Charlotte. Why did you kill them?"

Michael slowly approached and gripped her shoulders tightly.

"What...?"

"Why did you kill them?"

Charlotte's body trembled.

She was scared.

His eyes looked ready to stab her to death.

"My, Lady."

Worse still, something cold and slippery touched her ankle.

She gasped and looked down.

Jeina, lying in the blood pool, gripped Charlotte's ankle and tried to climb up her leg.

"My Laaaady."

Tom clung to her other leg.

Blood-soaked people—Jeina, Tom, Michael—held her immobile.

Masses clung to their hands and arms.

Three pairs of eyes—no, countless eyeballs—bore into her.

Then a flood of screaming.

"Why did you kill usssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss..."

"...Gasp!"

Charlotte bolted upright.

She sat on a bed. Darkness surrounded her.

Her body trembled.

A nightmare.

Just a nightmare.

...Or was it?

Memories from before she'd lost consciousness rushed in like waves.

'...ady.'

Bright red blood flowing between marble tiles.

'My Laaaaaaaaaaaadyyyyy...!'

Jeina charging at her with a dagger.

'My Laaaady...'

Jeina's corpse.

And.

'What familiars do I have?'

...Michael saying the masses weren't his familiars.

All of it was real.

Not a dream.

Charlotte's eyes shook.

"Why...?"

A thin voice escaped.

Though she'd witnessed it all, her mind refused to accept it.

She couldn't understand.

She was just scared. Her hands trembled.

Someone had died. Their killer had tried to kill her too. That person was killed by the masses. Michael didn't believe her.

Gone was everything she'd seen before—he'd stared at her with cold eyes, painting her as a murderer. He didn't seem surprised by death.

"...Get away."

Charlotte trembled as she fumbled through disconnected thoughts, then startled violently when the masses on her bed rolled toward her.

She was scared.

She'd never feared them since growing accustomed to their appearance, but now she felt terror for the first time.

Natural. She'd watched them kill someone.

Would they kill her too?

She stared at them, trembling.

But fortunately, they came no closer.

They simply stopped—as they always had when obeying her—rolling their eyeballs, then scattered whoosh to the room's edges, away from her.

They looked somewhat dejected.

"Wow, the owner's words really work on them."

Then a strange man popped out from above her head.

"...Eep."

Charlotte's heart dropped as she gasped.

She crawled backward on the bed.

"...Who?"

Her throat clogged, but she forced the question out. The man slowly straightened from his crouch.

The clouds parted from the moon, letting gentle silver light seep into the room.

Normally she'd have just been startled, but she'd swallowed her fear whole. Natural. Given what she'd experienced.

The black-haired man with red eyes similar to hers shrugged and grinned.

"What do you mean? I'm the one who brought you here. Ah, though I'm not human."

His appearance was beautiful like a painting—not as much as Michael's—but Charlotte's terrified eyes couldn't see that.

Pale-faced, she asked quietly.

"...All the way here?"

"Yeah. Do you know how much work it is to carry an unconscious person?"

Only then did she realize that after collapsing in the corridor, she was now in an unfamiliar room—specifically, the room she'd used before the couple's bedroom.

She'd vaguely felt someone's embrace when losing consciousness. This man must have moved her.

But where had he appeared from? He wasn't even dressed as a servant.

Her wariness wouldn't settle.

The man grinned at her.

"But Owner, what are you?"

"...What?"

Owner?

"What are you?"

The man's face moved close again.

Charlotte, pressed against the headboard, trembled visibly.

The red eyes drew near—pupils slit vertically like a reptile's.

"...!"

"What are you?"

A languid voice asked as if seducing her.

Those chilling eyes curved into crescents.

"Honestly, I'm really scared of you right now."

He showed his sweat-soaked palm as proof.

But she couldn't speak while terrified.

"F*ck, this is annoying..."

When she said nothing, he grimaced and muttered—

Pop!

With a sound—

...He transformed into Nero.

Charlotte's lips quivered.

"...N-Nero?"

[When I'm a rabbit it's somewhat better.]

The voice echoed in her head, not her ears. That man's voice.

The baby rabbit's red eyes stared at her.

Nero was... human?

How?

[Hm? Owner, what are you? That's the fourth time I've asked.]

Charlotte couldn't understand what was happening.

"...What are you?"

A strangled question stumbled out.

Everything she'd known, thought she'd known, seemed untrue.

"This place, this place..."

That became the trigger—the briefly forgotten terror crashed over her again.

The masses. Michael. This estate. Death. Even Nero.

The sensation of everything she knew twisting.

From beginning to end, everything was wrong, frightening.

What is all this?

Fear made her head throb.

Her breathing grew harsher—hah, hah.

She hadn't been this terrified since that day.

Inside the blazing cabin, in the locked room, unable to do anything—

Snap.

"...Stop."

Charlotte whispered.

She shut down everything overheating in her mind.