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His voice was hoarse, especially hoarse. I noticed that he was different from before.
He became very cautious about everything he did to me.
“We went home.”
“…I don’t have a home.”
He visibly paused, and then seemed like he wanted to merge me into his body.
Whispering incessant apologies in my ear, it seemed like fragmented munnurs.
He put me in the car and then walked into the wooden house.
There was a black–clothed person blocking the entrance of the wooden house, and I couldn’t see anything
It was only a moment later when a horrifying scream came from the wooden house.
He was probably a pervert.
I leaned against the car window, listening to the sharp screams one after another, and staring at that wooden cabin.
The screams did not stop, as if they came from the depths of hell, along with the fear emanating from the soul.
Matteo’s hands, which never got bloodstained in the past, are now stained.
Chapter 12
