Hell's torturer: The Demon in Disguise

Part 11

Damian

Things turned out better than I could have hoped for. A cacophony of lust, fear, and hatred, with a touch of revenge. What more can a man possibly ask for? The part with the detective was a bit unexpected but it was a nice touch. All good things come in threes: three wise men, three fates, three victims.

My favorite painting is in the form of a triptych as well. "The Garden of Earthly Delights" by Hieronymus Bosch, depicts the consequences of succumbing to earthly desires. I would dedicate this piece to him if I could. It's such a misfortune that the only people I deem worthy or would even dare say - idolize are long dead. Maybe it's because when one dies we only seem to remember with favor. It's so easy for a person to make you change their perception of them while they are still alive, once they are under dirt their book of life is finished. The story is done and awaits its reviews in the form of an eulogy.

I often think about Cornelia still. I might even go as far as to say I miss her. She was the sole victim I felt guilty for killing. Every time I see the scars she left on my forearm I get reminded of that night. It was a thrilling, yet pleasant memory. She truly had the potential to catch me if it wasn't for her small miscalculation. She was the only one to offer a challenge. The only one to acknowledge me and consider all the effort I'm putting into my craft. Otherwise, no matter what I did, my work would end up being dismissed or credited to him. It comes with the trade, I know but I can't shake the feeling that I'm screaming into the void every time I create a masterpiece.

However, Those last words of hers stung: "You're just a copycat." Every time I hear that word it gives me a headache. It sickens me that I have to share my infamy with him, to the point I felt the urge to go to the police and turn myself in just to let them know we are not one and the same. Perhaps I'll do it one day, but it's too early for that. There is still a lot of work to do, and who knows? Maybe one day my target will be the real "Hell's torturer".

"Here is your americano, sir. No sugar, I remembered this time." I hear the delightful tone of a certain raven-haired young lady as she places the cup in front of me.

"Thank you, Rin," I say as I take in the rich aroma of the freshly brewed coffee before I sip.

"You remember my name?" She holds her board like a textbook with a bit of a surprise in her eyes.

"Of course, do you remember mine?" I tease her.

"It's Damian Messer, right?"

"Correct. I usually don't come here in person, but I thought it might be a nice change for once. It temporarily takes off from the craziness in my life." I try to be cryptic with my sentences, it draws their attention. "Besides this way, I get to see you."

I can see her cheeks blush even through the white mask she's always wearing.

"Do think I'm pretty?" For a moment she averts her eyes from mine.

"Oh, my! I don't think there is a right answer to that. If I say you aren't, you're going to kill me on the spot and if I say you are, you'll slit my mouth ear to ear."

I hear a slight gasp, after which her eyes widen with intrigue. She unconsciously leans in closer, allowing me to take in a better look at her starry eyes. They are like the night sky in Van Gough's paintings.

"Is that a Kuchisake Ona reference? I'm surprised you know about that urban legend!"

"I just couldn't figure out a better reason for why a girl like you to wear a mask." I smile at her.

"I have allergies. There are a lot of cats around our shop and if I don't wear this mask I'll be sneezing all the time."

"Is that so? If it's not too much trouble, would you allow me to see your face, just this once? Unless you have something to hide, of course."