Lily Emblem - Chapter 9
"Furthermore, when I first arrived, Attorney Field privately explained the inheritance situation to me. Everyone's background is clear. Everyone is related to Mrs. Brooks. Mr. Green is a retired officer from India; Mr. Dewey used to be a doctor at a clinic, but he is unemployed; Mr. Brooks is her stepson, a stockbroker; Miss Palmer works as an accountant in an firm; Mrs. Austin was a secretary, but she just resigned; only you—the attorney only knows that you are Mrs. Austin's husband, and nothing else."
“Oh…” Radley laughed mockingly, “It seems you still haven’t found conclusive evidence.”
“Yes,” the priest said with a smile, “that’s why I set this trap.”
(The End, Emblem in the Dawn)
16:05:12
It was almost four in the morning when a gust of cold air blew in through the open window. I felt a cool sensation on my forehead, and when I touched it, I found it was covered in sweat. The wound on my neck seemed to have stopped bleeding, but the blood clot had congealed on my skin, dry and hard, which was very uncomfortable.
I felt my arm holding the gun was heavy and a little sore.
Radley had completely transformed back into human form, and the fleshy wings on his back had retracted without him even noticing. A pool of dark red blood had accumulated beneath him, soaking the carpet.
The priest took a long breath, then opened the wooden box. He took out the heart, wrapped in oilcloth, and slowly handed it to Radley. Radley looked at the priest's actions with disbelief, seemingly not understanding his meaning.
A gentle smile appeared on the priest's scarred face: "Stealing someone else's lover is not something I should do. Although you are guilty, Radley, I am not an extreme person."
In an instant, I understood what he meant. Strangely, I had no intention of dissuading him—I felt that the heart should belong to this person who lived in darkness forever; it was his only light.
Radley took the heart without the slightest hesitation, not even considering whether he would be burned again. He held his lover's heart tightly in his arms, and I could clearly see red tears welling up in his eyes, dripping onto the oilcloth.
God, please forgive me, for I feel no disgust for Him at this moment.
The priest stood up, suddenly grabbed the silver candlestick behind him, and yanked it out. Foul-smelling blood sprayed onto his pale face, and Radley screamed, collapsing to the ground. The priest threw down the candlestick, pushed open the window—"Go," he said. "It's almost dawn. If you can get back to the swamp cemetery alive, then I'll pretend this never happened."
Radley stood up shakily, looking at the person by the window in surprise.
"Of course, if you kill someone again, I'll still be a very good exorcist priest..."
A grateful smile slowly spread across the vampire's face amidst the shock. He spread his wings and climbed onto the windowsill. Before his feet left, he turned back and smiled at us again: "I injured one of the people downstairs, but after learning about Lily's situation, I no longer have the will to kill. Priest, it is you who saved their lives."
A figure as swift as a bat landed in the courtyard. I seemed to see a white shadow materialize from the void, following closely behind it as it disappeared into the distance. For a moment, I even felt a sense of relief, yet a tinge of unease lingered in my heart: "Father... do you really think it's alright to just let him go like this...?"
The man with long black hair looked at the night sky and shook his head: "You know, Mr. Green, the place where he was stabbed by the silverware will never heal... If he hasn't bled dry before sunrise, it means God has forgiven him; if we see a clump of grayish-white ash on the way to the swamp, that's God's punishment. It's more appropriate to leave judgments outside of real life to our Almighty Lord."
He went back into the house, picked up the wooden box, and stroked the lifelike lily emblem on the lid with his fingers, revealing a gentle smile: "Come on, let's go see the gentlemen and ladies downstairs."
Radley was not lying.
When we reached the second floor, we found Mr. Carl Dewey, who had been in the same room as him, unconscious, while Attorney Field had a large gash on his leg, blood gushing out, and five bruises on his neck from being strangled. When we helped him up, he looked almost dead. Miss Palmer and Hans Luther, in the other room, seemed completely oblivious to anything amiss.
The priest told them that the real vampire was Mr. Austin, whom he had already banished. The large pools of dead blood on the third-floor floor and my "testimony" put their minds at ease, and they breathed a long sigh of relief. Everyone crossed themselves in gratitude to God. Although a trace of doubt still lingered on Hans Luther's weathered face, after the priest whispered a few words in his ear, I saw a thin layer of tears well up in his cloudy eyes…
The continuous rain stopped the next morning, and the priest and I searched carefully along the road leading to the swamp, but found no suspicious ashes. Even when we returned to the churchyard, the beautiful coffin was empty.
The priest smiled at me and said that the two of them could be together forever this time. I was half-believing and half-doubting, staring blankly at the damp earth after the rain.
A year later, when I returned to this place, I brought with me my wife, Miss Palmer—or rather, Mrs. Green. As co-heirs, we shared the title to Florence House with Mr. Carl Dewey. He took a portion of the paintings and collection, which he auctioned off for a considerable sum, and then lived in London.
I insisted on returning here and carried out a major renovation. I made the garden beautiful, planted many lilies and roses, and then placed the First Mate's small tombstone in a lovely lavender field.
At first, my wife was not happy that I chose this place with unpleasant memories as our home, even though she loves me very much and is always grateful to me for saving her during the crisis.
But after I told her some stories about the lily emblem one night, her attitude softened and she eventually agreed to my idea.
We also kept the loyal Hans Luther working here until his death.
Although I haven't seen Father Arsen Gadda since returning to London, I can't help but recall his parting words whenever I gaze out of the window at the misty marshes in the distance: "No one can guarantee that it's truly safe here, Mr. Green. Perhaps those two poor souls have found their paradise, perhaps they are dead... or perhaps they will reappear before people, and I cannot guess what form they will take. In any case, it's always good to have a watchful eye around here."
I think so too...
(End of article)