Anomaly Chapter 371 – Worship of the true gods [17]

Have you ever imagined what it would be like, for example... to walk into your girlfriend’s bedroom and discover that it’s filled with dozens, maybe even hundreds, of pictures of you? Pictures scattered everywhere. On the walls, stuck side by side. On the floor, so crumpled, others carefully lined up.

On the ceiling, taped in place. On top of the desk, the shelf, the nightstand, even on the mirror... any surface that looked even remotely capable of holding a photograph had one. Now imagine the feeling of realizing that all those eyes in the pictures are staring at you at the sa ti. Yeah... I’m going through sothing pretty similar.

The difference is that instead of an obsessive girlfriend, I discovered that so crazy old man who worships anomalies keeps dozens, maybe hundreds, of pictures of my little sisters scattered all over his quarters. So of them are normal photos. Others look like they were taken from far away, secretly, at random monts.

There are even crooked cutouts, like he tore the images out of sowhere in a hurry. Needless to say, the mont I realized that, my brain basically short-circuited. It doesn’t matter where I look... there are pictures everywhere. On the walls. On the floor. On top of the furniture.

Pictures taken during the few rare monts when Althea, Nekra, Chronas, Nyara, and Eryanis had been seen. Rare snapshots, captured on specific occasions. I had no idea where that priest had managed to get all those pictures. Actually, if I were being completely honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I didn’t really care how he got them.

The only thing that truly mattered was the growing feeling forming in the pit of my stomach: that man was a creep... far creepier than I had imagined before. My eyes slowly wandered around the room. The walls were covered in photographs, so pinned in place, others carefully arranged into small groups.

So of them were crystal clear. My body trembled. A chill ran down my spine as I kept staring at those images. The feeling was heavy. Sticky. I was genuinely disgusted. What the hell was this priest? And more importantly... what the hell was he doing with all those pictures of my little sisters?

My mind started working frantically, trying to fit together pieces that refused to connect. Ideas began to surface one after another, possible explanations, theories, suspicions. None of them were even remotely comforting from my perspective. Still with my mind blank, trying to understand exactly what I was seeing in front of , I jumped slightly when I felt sothing touch my shoulder.

A sudden cold ran down my spine, as if that touch had drained the warmth from my body. Instinctively, I stepped aside, nearly tripping over my own foot as I turned to identify who, or what, had placed a hand on my shoulder. My eyes searched for the figure behind , a mix of shock and confusion filling my expression.

“Child, what are you doing here? How did you find this place?” It was the priest. His hand still hovered slightly in the air, as if he had just finished touching .

The expression on his face was curious, but not hostile. His voice ca out calm and controlled, without irritation or harshness, which, in a way, surprised . After all, technically I was inside his private space. A place where, without a doubt, he wouldn’t want anyone wandering around.

Actually, considering the way I’m dressed right now, simple clothes, a little too loose for my body, it’s very likely that he can’t even recognize as an anomaly. From his perspective, I probably just look like a lost child. Even so, that doesn’t change the fact that this priest’s actions have already gotten under my skin more tis than I’d like to admit.

There were monts when irritation flared up inside like a spark ready to turn into a wildfire. I could simply incinerate him right here, reducing him to ashes before he even realized what was happening... Or, if I felt like being less rciful, I could turn him into a grotesque, pulsating ball of flesh.

Not very friendly thoughts, I admit. Cruel, even. But at the sa ti, there was sothing that kept my curiosity locked onto him. Despite everything, I still wanted to know exactly how that man had managed to gather so much information about my little sisters.

“Sorry, sir... I was trying to find the bathroom, but I think I got lost along the way” My voice echoed clearly through the room, soft enough not to sound strange. Naturally, I was still speaking through telepathy, but I carefully masked that fact.

To the priest, it probably sounded like I was just speaking normally, like any child would, my words leaving my mouth and fading into the air. I kept my gaze slightly lowered and let a hint of hesitation slip into my voice, maintaining the act.

“Am... am I in trouble?” I tilted my head slightly, like a child unsure of what to do.

The priest blinked, surprised by my words. I noticed the small hesitation in his expression, that brief mont when the mind tries to decide whether to be suspicious or simply believe. The way I’m acting so naturally will make him lower his guard little by little.

After all, who in their right mind would dare hurt a frightened little girl with a trembling voice and eyes full of fear? I kept my shoulders slightly hunched and pressed my hands against my chest, as if trying to protect myself from the world. Every gesture was calculated.

Every tremor in my voice carefully controlled. Even though it hurts to act like a helpless girl... it’s all part of the plan. I swallowed hard and looked up at him with the most innocent expression I could manage. If everything goes the way I expect, I won’t need to force anything. He’ll talk on his own. And when he realizes it... he’ll have already told exactly everything I wanted to know.

***

(POV - Dominic Virel)

Dominic frowned slightly as soon as he crossed the doorway to his quarters. The room was simple, but organized: a narrow bed against the wall, a small wooden table covered with a few religious books and a candle already burned halfway down, its fla flickering softly in the breeze slipping through the narrow window.

However, none of that caught his attention at that mont. Soone was inside his private quarters. For a mont, Dominic simply stood in the doorway, trying to understand what he was seeing. His quarters were located in the back of the church, in a naturally isolated area.

The path that led there went through a narrow hallway, two dimly lit turns, and a small side door that was almost always closed. Not even the regular churchgoers usually made it that far. Until today, Dominic had never imagined that soone could simply “get lost” on the way to the restroom and end up there.

His eyes then settled on the child standing near the wall. Sothing about her seed... wrong. The child was wearing too many clothes, layers upon layers of thick fabric, as if she were trying to completely hide her own body.

The sleeves were far too long for her arms, covering almost the entire length of her hands, and the coat looked heavy for soone so small. A worn knit cap rested on her head, pulled down low so that the shadow hid almost her entire face.

A few strands of hair slipped out from under the cap, falling ssily over her eyes and making it even harder to identify her. The dim candlelight didn’t help much either. Even so... Dominic had the strange impression that he saw sothing shine.

Through the strands of hair, for just a brief mont, sothing seed to shimr, a soft, nearly imperceptible glow, like gold reflecting a distant light. He blinked, unsure whether he had really seen it.

(Maybe she has so kind of incurable eye disease?) The thought appeared automatically in his mind.

With that explanation in mind, Dominic began to look at the child with new eyes, eyes filled with pity. The sight tightened sothing in his chest. A child shouldn’t have to live like that. No child should.

And yet the world was rarely kind. Reality had the cruel habit of crushing the very ones who deserved it the least. It was rciless to the good... and even crueler to children who had never committed a single sin. Dominic hated that more than anything else.

For a brief mont, his eyes softened. A small smile, almost imperceptible, appeared on his lips. A gentle smile, though touched with lancholy. Then he began to walk. His steps were slow and silent as he moved forward, passing the child. But at the exact mont he walked past her, the child’s voice echoed through the room again.

It was a calm voice... sweet... delicate. So soft that it seed to drift through the air like a warm breeze. The mont he heard it, Dominic felt sothing strange wrap around his body. The tension in his muscles faded, and a comforting warmth slowly spread through his chest.

It was like sinking into warm water after a cold day, like being wrapped in sothing safe and welcoming. For a mont, Dominic had the strange sensation of returning to a place his mory had forgotten, a place of absolute peace. As if he were once again inside his mother’s womb.

“Father... why do you have so many pictures in your room?” The little girl’s question made a soft smile appear on Dominic’s lips. There was sothing deeply charming about the direct and innocent way children asked things that most adults would find strange, or would rather avoid.

He slowly turned to face her. The little girl was standing near the wall, her small feet almost on tiptoe as she looked around the room with curiosity. Her eyes moved from one photograph to another.

Dominic couldn’t clearly see the expression on her face, but from the way her head tilted slightly from side to side, he was almost certain that curiosity had completely taken hold of her.

With a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, Dominic answered gently. He chose his words carefully, keeping in mind the child’s age, she didn’t seem older than fourteen: “Hm... let ask you sothing” he said calmly and patiently: “Do you have soone you admire and love very much? Soone you would do anything for?”

Dominic let the question linger in the air while watching the girl. The silence that followed stretched a few seconds longer than he had expected. His eyebrows lifted slightly as he noticed the delay in her response.

“Mom and Dad?” the little girl replied, her soft voice filled with pure innocence.

Dominic frowned slightly. There was sothing strange about the way she said it. It didn’t sound like just an answer, almost as if she were seeking confirmation from him. Still, he decided to attribute it to her age and the curious way children often form their thoughts.

With that in mind, Dominic replied calmly: “That’s a good answer...” he said after a brief mont of silence: “Well, you can think of those photos as the people I admire and love... the ones I would do anything for”

Dominic’s tone was firm, but there was a subtle warmth hidden behind his words. When he looked back at the girl, he studied her more carefully. She tilted her head slightly to the side, strands of hair shifting with the movent, while her eyes remained fixed on him.

Then, for no apparent reason, Dominic felt sothing strange. A silent pressure settled around him, almost imperceptible, like the air before a storm. His body stiffened for a mont. And then it happened.

For a brief second, so fast it could easily be dismissed as imagination, Dominic could have sworn that an intense golden glow burst from the child’s eyes in front of him, like two small sparks of light burning deep within her pupils. The glow vanished as quickly as it appeared. But the feeling didn’t.