"Aghhh! Stoppp! Please hav–!"
CCCRRRACKK-SHHHH.
The sickening snap of bone echoed into the silence as the cultist's skull imploded beneath her boot, the mangled head smeared like rotten fruit against the ground.
She stood motionless for a moment, a tranquil smile on her face as she gazed down at the carnage—bodies twisted, heads caved in, limbs bent at unnatural angles.
Then she sighed as though she'd just finished doing laundry.
"That should be the last of them," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else, her voice lilting like a lullaby laced with poison.
These were the cultists assigned to cut off access to and from the town. Not that it mattered anymore. Their use had expired.
"Your Excellency," came the trembling voice of her aide, reverberating with awe and dread.
The woman turned, eyes catching the faint light of the burning horizon.
Her aide approached reverently, bowing deeply as she extended a silken handkerchief, hands trembling slightly beneath the black hood identical to those the dead cultists had worn.
She accepted it with a hum, wiping the blood from her fingers, smearing crimson across white fabric as if it were paint on canvas.
The aide dared speak again. "Forgive me, but... may I ask... is this truly alright, Your Radiance?"
She tilted her head, blinking once—slowly. "Hm? Is what alright, little moth?"
The aide swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. "To dispose of them... The ones who served you so loyally... Were they not—?"
"Oh... that," she interrupted, laughter slipping from her lips like the tinkle of broken glass. "You mean the livestock?"
The aide flinched. She continued, stepping over a split-open corpse.
"They were sheep dressed as wolves. Dull-eyed, predictable. Their fanaticism made them useful, for a time, like kindling before a bonfire."
Her tone darkened, though the smile remained. "But kindling must always burn."
She turned toward the iced-over town, its white-crusted buildings glistening under the moonlight. The haze of power from the Paladin still lingered in the air like smoke.
"They served their purpose—well enough, I suppose. A buffet for 'him'... just before the Paladin swept in like a shiny blade."
She then raised one hand, and reality itself shimmered around her fingertips.
A portal—radiant gold, humming ominously—began to bloom into existence.
Light poured from it, illuminating her full figure: the pale blonde hair, the modest nun's robes, the gentle, angelic smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"And as for the children?" she added with a soft giggle, almost absentmindedly.
"Well... that's just a bit of bad luck, isn't it?"
Her words were sugar-laced arsenic, drifting like petals through the air.
"Mmmm...mmmhh!" A muffled cry pulled her attention.
The woman's expression brightened, eyes wide like she had forgotten Christmas morning had come.
"Ah... oh!" she said, placing her fingertips delicately against her lips. "How rude of me. I almost forgot about you, my dear."
Struggling beneath the roots of a twisted tree was a woman—mid-thirties, dark brown hair tangled and matted.
Her once elegant black dress was torn and filthy, her arms and legs bound tightly, a gag across her mouth.
She squirmed desperately as the nun approached with unhurried grace.
The woman knelt, kneecaps touching the cold ground, her face inches from the prisoner's.
She reached out with reverence and peeled the gag down with an unsettling tenderness.
"Now then," she whispered. "Speak your mind."
"W–Why?" the prisoner stammered, tears brimming in her eyes. Her voice cracked, thick with betrayal. "Why would you... of all people... do this?"
Her words came faster, breath hitching.
"To the town? To the people? To... those innocent children...?"
Her voice broke completely. "Answer me..."
Silence.
"Answer me!" she screamed now, hatred blazing in her eyes. "Why?!"
She locked eyes with the nun.
"...EVELYN!"
The name shattered the moment like glass underfoot.
Evelyn smiled gently, as if it had finally been said, finally acknowledged. The final page of a story they'd both written together.
She tilted her head, watching the woman before her. Her lips curled into something between pity and pleasure.
"Gladys," she whispered the name like a lullaby. "Sweet, stubborn, beautiful Gladys."
Her fingers brushed a strand of matted hair from her captive's cheek. "You were always so good. So pure. It made me sick sometimes."
Gladys flinched, trying to recoil, but Evelyn followed.
"Ten years, wasn't it?" Evelyn mused aloud. "Ten years of pretending to be normal. Pretending to be... caring."
Her smile flattened. Her eyes flicked to the stars above.
"You almost made me forget what I was, what my objective was," she said, voice deadpan now. "I should've killed you sooner. But I didn't."
She looked back down. "And yet here we are. Full circle. Isn't that beautiful?"
Gladys's breathing was ragged, desperate.
"You'll never get away with this," she spat. "Someone will stop you. The Order will—"
"Shh," Evelyn cooed, placing a finger on her lips. "Let's not ruin our goodbye with silly words."
Her hand slipped to Gladys's throat, gentle as a lover's caress.
"Just so you know, I did care, once," she whispered. "But that version of me is long gone. This world buried her a long time ago."
Her fingers then tightened.
"Goodbye, Gladys."
CRACK.
The body crumpled like a marionette with cut strings.
Evelyn stood, staring down for a moment, the strain in her smile finally fading into something empty. Then she turned and stepped toward the portal.
"Leave the body just outside the town," she said over her shoulder. "Let them find her."
The aide, now kneeling in devotion, responded with a bowed head and quivering voice.
"At once, Your Excellency. Your will be done."
Without another word, Evelyn vanished into the golden light.