The Loser | by Isaac7525

"I won't bother to decipher the first part of the name, but that wine says it was patented by an asylum."

Aizawa looked at the boss in the chair.

"Ah, I see you've never known our kingdom is a cornerstone of French culture, eh?" Mr. Cecilé chortled, sipping his wine once more.

"Strange, why would an asylum make a wine brand?" Aizawa's question diffused into the air of the room, silently intoxicating Mr. Cecilé and making him fall silent. The man put the bottle of wine underneath his desk and smiled softly, his gruff voice sounding once more. 

"Maison de Santé Asylum is the sorta place to do all kinds of stuff with their patients. I heard rumors that the patients who aren't screamin' and bashin' their heads against the walls produce the wine. From what I'd guess, it's most likely a method to prevent them from going insane."

Hearing these words, the duo's minds began to bubble with numerous questions. Olivia, who had remained silent and finished drinking her beverage, pushed the glass aside and asked a question. "Where is the wine sold?"

"In the underground market of Seraphis Kingdom," Mr. Cecilé replied, pointing below the wooden tiles of the floor. 

"Like a black market?" Olivia was taken aback by this revelation. 

"No, no, no." The man with the stubble and neat suit chuckled softly to himself, adjusting the lapels of his jacket. 

"It's just the market where products that the average patron can't afford are sold."

Olivia looked down at the floor tiles beneath her feet. "Why not just sell them up here? There's no harm in that."

When Mr. Cecilé caught ear of her statement, his bushy eyebrows lowered as he seemed to enter a somewhat contemplative state. He remained like this for about thirty seconds, the only sound permeating the air was the tapping of his boot against the wooden floor. 

Suddenly, his eyes widened as he grabbed the bottle of wine, throwing it against the wall. "Cut that out!"

Olivia and Aizawa collectively flinched when the bottle was sent in their direction. It hit the wall behind them with a clatter, colliding with a painting hoisted on the wall of a dragon, causing it to fall to the ground and shatter its glass casing. 

"What the?" Aizawa's voice contained no trace of malice. Olivia, who had now recovered from the shock, looked at Mr. Cecilé alongside Aizawa. 

The man with a stubble was rubbing the spot above his eyelid where the bandage was. 

…

"You didn't choose to arrest me, why?" Shinso began to question the earlier statements made by Ms. Jasmine. 

Humphry, who was still in the wooden chair and reading his book, set the novel down on the floor and sighed.

"To be completely honest, we don't perceive you as a threat for the most part. As for where you got a potion or what pathway you're on, it is unbeknownst to us."

"I'm on the Justice pathway," Shinso replied, sitting up in his chair. A tiny amount of sweat accumulated on his brow upon saying that. The boy began to question if telling Humphry his pathway was a good idea.

Unexpectedly, Humphrey's lips curled upwards into a smile. 

"Heh, same," he replied. "It's one of the pathways under the domain of Mother Nature."

At that moment, he looked towards Shinso with a more serious expression. "Perhaps you could join the Pollinators."

Hearing this offer, the boy was somewhat stunned. "Join you?"

The dark-skinned man nodded. "Yes, we have pathway potions up to Order 6 in our inventory."

He picked the book back up from the floor, his smile widening slightly. "You'd be proficient in no time, and, you'd be protecting this kingdom."

After digesting all the current information, he thought back to what he had heard in the beginning of the meeting at Aaron's establishment. Carter had stolen the pathway potions of the Saint and Justice pathways from the Mother Nature Church. This could also mean that Ayumi would also reap benefits after her recovery. 

"I also have a friend you might be interested," Shinso smiled softly, folding one leg over the other. He placed one hand on my shoulder, squeezing softly. 

"Her name is Ayumi, and she's also a Seeker. She's on the Saint Pathway, but she's currently injured."

"May I ask what happened?" Humphry asked, his curiosity and concern brewing like a stew. 

Shinso sighed softly, looking back at my form. I was now asleep, my lips parted slightly as I faced the wall. 

"When we were first undergoing training at a friends establishment, she strangely passed out after experiencing ravings and visions."

His hand trailed to my hair, running through the silky, slightly greasy locks. "He also passed out from something, but he recovered quickly."

"You mentioned ravings?" Humphry asked, standing up from the chair. The dark-skinned man suddenly walked over to the window, peering out at the crimson moon. This time, the red goliath in the sky wasn't obscured by the clouds. For the most part, the snowfall had actually dissipated, and the clouds had moved elsewhere, allowing the duo an unobstructed view.

"The Blood Moon isn't for two more weeks," Humprhy's voice lowered to a whisper, his hands slightly trembling against the windowsill as he gazed up at the moon. 

"Blood Moon?" Shinso wasn't familiar with the subject for the most part. He arched one of his eyebrows, feeling a surge of curiosity. 

"You know when every once in a while, when everyone seems to party a little harder one night, particularly when the moon is full?" He looked back at Shinso, expecting a reply. 

Shinso shook his head. He didn't want to reveal the truth about his origins just yet, so he made a last-second excuse. "My parents send me to bed early during the Blood Moon, I don't know why."

"Your parents? Do you hear them downstairs?" Humphry quickly prompted him with another question. 

Shinso shook his head. "I fall asleep rather quickly."

At that moment, the dark-skinned man let out a low sigh. He stepped back from the window and approached the bed, sitting down beside the indigo-haired boy. The weight of the man made the bed tilt a tiny amount beneath Shinso. 

"During the Blood Moon, the most maloviolent of existences awaken from the darkness, using the crimson moon as a beacon to cause chaos and feast upon the spirituality of everyone in sight."

He looked towards the door, which was still left ajar since Aizawa departed. "On the blood moon, I recommend you be careful. Lock your doors and hide away."

Hearing his instructions, Shinso was suddenly puzzled. "You mentioned that everyone parties on that night, why don't they hide too?"

Humphrey's grip on the windowsill loosened. His meaty hands found their way to Shinso's collar, giving it a sharp tug. "Humans can't realize when their souls and minds are being eaten from the inside out. For some reason we can't explain, there's this strange euphoria when a mortal is being broken down by a wraith or spirit."

He leaned in closer, his lips parting. "But the worst part is that they can't see them. Only Seekers can see the mystical creatures and attempt to stop them."

The dark-skinned man pointed towards the door once again. "If they figure out you have mystical abilities, they'll attempt to devour your entire body to satiate their unending hunger."

After Humprhy finished his complete explanation, Shinso didn't know what to say.

…

"I apologize, it appears my headaches are a true pain," Mr. Cecilé chuckled softly, removing his hand from his brow and rapping it against the desk. 

Olivia looked back at the bottle on the floor, along with the shattered painting, and sighed softly. "Are you tired?"

"No, I'm not," the man replied with a small smile. 

Aizawa's eyes narrowed in slight concern. Within Mr. Cecilé's dark-colored eyes, he could faintly spot a tinge of deceit. 

"You are tired, Mr. Cecilé," He said, his voice softening. 

At that moment, the man with the stubble fell back in his chair. His body hit the wooden floor with a bash as he took the chair down with him. The chair collided with the table in short succession, causing a plethora of items to fall from the table and onto the floor. His half-empty cup of wine spilled onto the hardwood, and a stack of papers and tax-forms flew in the chair like a cluster of feathers, all coming to rest around his form. 

The dark-haired man let out a low whimper as he shuffled to the corner, raising his hands over his head in a seemingly protective stance. His bottom lip quivered as he spat out a series of hazy, frantic phrases and words. 

"Don't! I'm not crazy!"

The entire time his eyes remained open. Aizawa and Olivia remained motionless, and they could see the liquid slowly accumulating in the corners of his eyes. The man's arms and legs trembled, flailing in all directions as if attempting to wrinkle out of some invisible, inscrutable grip. 

Mr. Cecilé scratched and clawed at the chair, his hands frantically moving to unbutton his coat and toss it against the wall in front of him. The duo watched, both unable to speak, as Mr. Cecilé frantically undressed himself until he was completely nude. The now naked man was left scratching and clawing at the air, alongside his skin. 

The man's pale skin was adorned with a myriad of scars and stitched-up wounds. Some of the wounds were deeper than others, some bloodier and more grotesque than others. The most notable one on his body, the one that immediately caught their attention, was the deep scar trailing vertically down his chest, going down to the area just above his genitals. 

This wound was a completely straight line, conducted with almost surgical precision. The only thing distinguishing it from professionalism was the somewhat jagged edges of the wound, small rivets where the performer seemed to have either messed up or purposely mishandled it for an unknown reason.

On other spots of his body were areas sealed off by bandages, mostly on his arms and inner thighs. Some were on his legs and chest. But the area which made Aizawa's stomach flip upside down was a bandage right above his genitals and anus. 

"What the hell…" Aizawa's body was frozen in terror as he watched Mr. Cecilé frantically scramble upwards onto his feet, his trembling hands adorned with dirty fingernails finding their way to one of the drawers of the desk. 

He quickly opened one, taking out what appeared to be a syringe. It was a small surgical needle with a pointed tip. The barrel of the syringe didn't contain any liquids or anesthetics—it was completely empty. 

At that moment, Mr. Cecilé's lips twitched upwards into a crazed smile as he slammed the needle downwards into his left eye, penetrating the eyeball just below the bandage. Aizawa watched, horrified as a torrent of crimson blood squirted upwards like a macabre fountain from the now bleeding eyeball. Mr. Cecilé didn't seem to react to this. Instead, he continued to jab the needle into his eye socket over and over, puncturing more holes and releasing more blood. 

It wasn't long until his entire face was coated with the crimson liquid, slowly dripping downwards onto the desk, and slowly running down his pale, bruise mottled body. 

He looked towards Olivia and Aizawa, his face bearing the unending smile. Olivia's face was pale with fear, and Aizawa bore a similar expression as the woman beside him. The duo watched in silence as Mr. Cecilé walked over to the bottle on the floor. His frail fingers wrapped around the coldness of the bottle, bringing the beverage to his lips as he took a final, hearty gulp.

Shortly after, he put the bottle back onto the table and grinned even wider, the edges of his mouth stretching to a capacity that bordered on the inhumane. Without saying a word, Mr. Cecilé slammed his head downwards into the bottle. 

The sound of broken glass echoed throughout the room as the man's eye had been completely punctuated by the bottle, steadily leaking blood. Mr. Cecilé's only working eye suddenly rolled back, showing only the whites, couples with some crimson veins and a faint of bloodshot as he collapsed to the ground. The naked man hit the floor with a soundless slump, habitually curling into a ball as the soft rising and falling in his chest gradually ceased. 

Olvia let out a shrill scream, pushing the chair over as she darted to the other end of the room. The pungent stench of alcohol mixed with blood quickly filtered into the room. At that moment, the red-haired bartender burst into the room, staring down at the carnage. 

His face paled, and his eyes rolled back as he fainted to the floor.