I found Cyrille at the butcher shop. He was chatting it up with Murielle. I didn't know what they were talking about, but I couldn't have cared less.
I had vengeance on my mind.
"Cyrille."
The thug turned and looked at me. He gave me a smug smirk, and laughed.
"Ah, if it isn't Ileyar. What brings you here?"
I approached him and glared directly at his face.
"You think you can get away with hurting Marcelle like that?! You're wrong... I'm not letting you. It's completely unacceptable!"
"...What do you know?!"
"I know that you're a dangerous punk! Don't worry... She'll be safe... Because you won't be hurting her ever again."
"What are you going on about, freak?!"
"Hmph."
I concentrated on Cyrille, and prayed that my sheer willpower would work to get back at him.
I want you to suffer... I want your sanity to be chipped away... Little by little... Piece by piece...
Go insane... And you will never recover.
Surely enough, Cyrille started laughing and yelling like a maniac.
"Hahahahahaha... W-what... Are you... D-doing to me...?! AHHHHHHH!"
I couldn't help it. I smiled from ear to ear. The sight gave me happiness.
Seeing him go insane... It was all I needed.
I ate it up. I needed more.
Come on... You can wail more than that!
"...AHHHHHH! S-stop! Ileyar!!"
"...Why should I? Heheh... You're so entertaining!"
"AHHHHHH! Ahhhhh...!"
Suffer. Suffer. Suffer...
Cyrille kept screaming, and I kept smiling.
Eventually, I didn't even consume his sanity by sheer will. It got to the point where it happened on its own.
He went completely mad.
...And I was satisfied.
But...
I needed more.
More sanity.
I need it... It's delicious...
...Quite literally.
