I suppose at this point it would be useless to question why I have taken on this role.
It would be useless to complain about Master's decision to appoint me as his successor after his daughter died.
Most importantly, it would be useless to think about any other choice I had other than to pull the trigger.
Stop being so hard on yourself, ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇. Father and I believe you to be a great help.
Even in my thoughts, that name still haunts me. The name she had given me when she and her father found me. A name I am no longer worthy of.
Though I could not say it was my own thought, after all, the voice I heard was not my own; it was hers—Rinara.
"Ugh!" I let out a groan as I got up from my bed.
The sounds of hissing steam and metallic gears scraping failed to lull me to sleep. I am hardly surprised at that fact since the stench of blood keeps me awake while the rest of the city sleeps.
A hero—no, a protector of the city who hunts an evil cult—has no room to sleep.
"Heh, it must be the alcohol thinking for me."
If only the alcohol did what it was supposed to.
I stumbled my way towards the bathroom, using the walls for support. The chill of the metal floor felt oddly nice. I turned on the sink and splashed myself with cold water, sobering me just a tiny bit.
Before me, on a large wall, was a handsome man staring blankly at me with his blue eyes. His eyes had small dark spots below them, but luckily, his neatly trimmed red beard and hair could pull anyone's attention away from that.
"To stay this way even through the fire and flames our Goddess tosses towards me…I wonder what Rinara would think…" I murmured.
As I did, I turned my attention toward the thing behind the man with a sad expression. I could have lied and said I've never seen it before, but it's always been there.
Always watching. Creeping with its white smile that stretched from ear to ear. Waving its tentacle-like arms that danced like a shadowy flame. Filling my vision with its black mist that poured from its head.
Why?
How could you?
Was this what you wanted?
Voices that sounded like hers and mine distorted together, creating a symphony of madness that robbed the air from my lungs.
I reached for my medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of pills. I poured out two pills and swallowed them while drowning my face in the sink.
Why?
WHYWHYWHYWHY?
I could hear the voice, now more distinctly mine, screaming.
Then I pulled my head out of the sink, and the voices stopped. I turned to look at the man in the mirror, then behind him. That figure was no longer holding its shape; it was just a hazy mist.
"Margaret better not say anything…I'm trying."
Even as I say that, I know I am nothing without those pills. I hate that.
I left the bathroom, feeling the disappointment of an immediate sobering because of forces I have no control over. On the way to my couch, I stopped by the fridge to grab a beer. Then, as I sank deep into the couch, I cracked open the cap, letting the music of the escaping gases put a smile on my face.
The TV buzzed slightly as I flipped to the news channel.
"Breaking News! Local detective captures worshipers of The Void Spawn! Golden Steam, the elusive detective whose only form of identification is the golden canisters of steam left behind at the scene of the crime, had caught several members of the worshipers earlier today. Including the usual miscreants, our very own Mayor—pardon me—former Mayor Loewe was found tied up with the branding of the cult on his chest. They were found under the vents of Middle Core City Hall. We have tried to question other city hall officials, but they have refused to comment on the matter. Is this a sign of internal corruption or a one-off case of disloyalty to the people? Stay tuned for follow-up coverage of this case. This is Kelly Frost of Middle Core, signing off."
I took a large gulp and turned off the TV.
That reporter is playing with fire. While she had her heart in the right place, if this is a sign of internal corruption, she'd be killed quicker than gears could turn. I should keep tabs on her.
Though this being a one-off case is more likely because of the age of the branding. But why did they not report the bodies that I left them at? Don't tell me a Void Spawn came by and ate them…
"So this is how the brilliant detective spends his time?"
A voice? No, an echo from the past. It was so vivid-sounding that I felt as if I were hearing it right next to me again.
I took another sip of the beer, its artificial warmth filling my body.
"Ew…so he ignores me and indulges in that revolting beverage that brings forth the unsavory side of men."
"Shut up, Rinara!" I know I was yelling at a phantom, but man, is it annoying to hear a dead person nag at you.
Then I rested my lips on the bottle; something felt off. Rinara never said anything like that when she was alive. She and I would always drink together.
"Vulgar too, guess what they say about never meeting your heroes is true. The fabled Golden Steam, well, he's nothing more than a lazy drunk."
I felt my stomach twist into a knot. I know the beer was not disagreeing with me, so why was I feeling this way? The voice I heard wasn't just a fleeting memory. It was close, something I could reach out to and touch—embrace.
Golden Steam was never a name Rinara ever called me. After all, why would the woman whose name this was supposed to belong to call another that?
"Oh…"
I turned my head. I swear I just took my pills.
The beer bottle slipped out of my hands at the sudden appearance of a person sitting next to me in ragged clothing. The shattering sound of glass filled the room.
Was it a person? Black mist filled the room, pouring out from the hood of the figure. White eyes that seemed to glow unnaturally sat above a wide smile that mocked me.
Silently, I jumped off the couch, avoiding the glass shards at my feet as I pulled out a small, concealable pistol I kept at my side, even at home.
"Wait! Don't shoot! I am sorry!"
Do it ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇, shoot them! I trust you!
Two voices played, blending together. They had an identical tone, just one sounding younger.
The misty figure frantically waved their hands. Pale, slender fingers poked out of a pair of worn, fingerless gloves. It pulled off its hood, revealing a large hole in the center of the figure's face.
"Calm down, Golden Steam!"
Would you kill her twice, ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇? Would you do it to escape the pain?
The gun trembled in my hands as a deeper voice, my voice, overtook hers. The world spun, and what was once my dinner came up.
"Urk!"
I dropped my gun along with my stomach's contents. Something rubbed my back.
Just what the hell was going on? Was this a cruel joke from the goddess?
My throat burned with the mixture of beer and stomach acid, but I didn't care. That voice was undoubtedly hers. I looked at the figure rubbing my back, and the black mist was gone.
She had long golden hair that swung over her shoulder; scarlet eyes that shone like jewels. The face of the beautiful woman who saved my life. The woman I came to love.
"Rinara!"
"Eep!"
I grabbed her and gave her a tight embrace. There was warmth. She was alive!
"I missed you so much!"
"Get off of me…" Rinara pushed me off and spoke with a saddened tone. She wore a gloomy expression as if she were hurting. She then turned to me with a smile, one that seemed practiced, betrayed only by her eyes. "I am not Rinara, but I am her daughter—Rinne. Please," she bowed her head, "help me find the person who killed my mother."