Satanas Chapter 9.2 - Bell

Tadeo gave an awkward smile and turned his eyes to the window. The carriage was retracing its path. Leaving Jingogae, it sped along the straight Namdaemun-ro. Was it the carriage jolting or his heart?

“Isn’t your place around here?”

“It seemed a place comfortable for you would be better, Father.”

“What?”

“We’re heading to Jonghyeon Cathedral. That should… bring you peace of mind.”

Hoshi said, leaning an elbow on the windowsill. Propping his chin at an angle, he smiled lazily. Near that smile were traces of dried rainwater.

“Don’t you think so? I’m being considerate.”

“I don’t quite understand…”

“You think it’s safer at the cathedral than where I’m staying.”

Curly hair swayed. Even wet, the dazzling hair slipped through five fingers. The hand leisurely combing through tapped the window.

“Isn’t that so?”

🦇

Demon, Satan, devil, evil spirit. The adversary of God, tempting the world and leading it to ruin. A serpent crawling the earth. Never once human. Then what is an angel who stained radiant wings with the tragedy of fratricide?

They chose to be God’s adversary but couldn’t break the wings, God’s gift. Wings were a means of dominion, a monopoly of beauty. Thus, they called themselves ‘evil’ yet never crawled the earth.

Do they truly qualify as ‘pure evil’?

Only when wings were severed did they realize they had them, becoming serpents crawling the earth with only two legs.

Then came regret. Staring at a flock of crows covering the ground, he muttered alone, ‘Birds flying the sky must be nice with wings.’ He regretted, ‘Then I could’ve flown to you in one swoop.’

“What the hell are you? Truly strange.”

The rain falling before the dew cleared was a flaw, if any. In dry weather, the splashing droplets wouldn’t have been visible. Strolling along the L-shaped stone wall, Yusin looked down at the formless steps splashing water. Bell’s figure was invisible to Yusin now.

“You’re the one who deserves to be treated as nonexistent, so why am I? Hey, are you really there?”

Bell’s steps had quickened long ago. His long legs splashed the ground. He leaped up the stone steps and opened the annex door. ‘Hey!’ An urgent voice called from afar. But Bell didn’t wait, entering alone.

Yusin, catching up late, rushed onto the porch. But before his silk shoes reached, the door closed on its own. Despite several attempts, it wouldn’t budge. Yusin could only stare at the dripping eaves.

“I knew you’d come.”

In the solitary garden annex, a woman sat on a cushion amidst withered roses and fallen petals. Sitting cross-legged, her two sock-clad toes, raised like azalea branches, rested on her thighs.

“Losing your wings, you finally became the serpent you desired, but your eyes look sad.”

Who is she, dressed in snow-white hemp, mastering the Buddha’s sitting posture?

Speaking as if she’s seen the world without opening her eyes, her moon-pale face was serene, twisting his insides. The arrogance of omniscience. Yet her voice was utterly ordinary. That the anticipated being was a mere human. Blue eyes, filled with doubt and disappointment, narrowed sharply.

“Don’t mimic God while reeking of humanity.”

Bell took a menacing step, speaking.

“Who do you dare deceive?”

Even at his bared teeth, she didn’t flinch. Her closed eyes remained shut. Instead, she extended a palm toward Bell.

“I could let you touch my side.”

“….”

“Or not feel the nail marks.”

“….”

“Because I’m not the ‘God’ you speak of. So don’t fear.”

Showing both palm and back, she now covered her face with her hands. Her small face was fully hidden by milk-white hands.

“Belliel, I waited for you. Here, on this land. Watching through that child’s eyes.”

“….”

“The child chosen by God is not ‘that child.’”

Her hands slowly lowered. A round forehead, smooth brow, vivid willow eyebrows emerged like a rising sun. Finally, she opened her eyes.

“I am the one you sought, the one chosen by God.”

Sparse eyelashes lifted, revealing glossy black eyes, clear and serene as pebbles under a stream.

Meeting those eyes, only one face filled his mind.

“…What a waste of steps to see this nonsense.”

“….”

“Still disgusting. You can’t shed your true nature. What’s the difference between a God toying with us on His palm and us?”

His furious boots crushed the cushion. Bell clenched his fists, heat searing his lungs. He’d forgotten briefly. Because of someone worshipping God nearby, he’d completely forgotten. ‘God’ uses His creations as expendables for His plans.

The boots soiling the cushion retreated. Instead of grinding his teeth, Bell crushed his lips, turning harshly.

“A waste of time. Rot in this room or get caught by demons. I don’t care.”

“…Belliel.”

“Shut up!”

At the low voice grabbing his ankle, a shout burst out. His head, turned toward the door, whipped back to her. Hair fanned out as he turned with a whoosh. Lightning struck, and Bell’s face briefly flashed like a roaring lion.

But that expendable must not be ‘that child.’

“Do you even know how that child, toyed by God’s schemes, has lived?”

“….”

“I’m asking. Answer with that gaping mouth before I wring your neck.”

In a blink, Bell approached the cushion, leaning in. Each strand of his mane-like hair carried hostility.

The black eyes meeting his face looked sad.

“Finally, you meet my eyes.”

“…What?”

“You’ve gained emotions.”

Five slender fingers wavered before his eyes. The palm, brushing near his nose and cheeks, cupped his clenched jaw. As she pressed her forehead to his, his stuck lips wouldn’t open.

“Sole fallen angel with a rib from the precept of pride, Belliel. The time has come.”

“….”

“There’s no time. That child is in danger. Only you can stop your old friend.”

‘You are the vessel, the only vessel.’

Her lips moved before his eyes. The scent of lilies recalled a time when Gabriel’s voice echoed in his ears.

“Young lady!”

Hearing the shout, Yusin broke through the door. But his muddy feet didn’t cross the threshold.

A harp-shaped frame rose from the scars, stringing forty-seven strings. Radiant feathers embroidered taut wing veins. Soon, glorious wings unfurled splendidly.

“Go, Belliel.”

The angel with wings whiter than pure white made Yusin tremble.

🦇

Red wine fell into a long-stemmed glass. Christ’s blood splashed dark red against the glass walls. Staring at the calmed liquid, Tadeo picked up a small bottle nearby. Opening the cross-adorned cap, clear droplets splashed. Kissing the holy water on his fingers, he opened his eyes.

Under the cassock, black boots descended a step, making two glasses clink. Tadeo appeared beside the angel statue guarding the spire. Hoshi, sitting in the front pew, smiled brightly. His eyes, gazing at the cross, held no fear.

“Have you waited long?”

He set down a silver tray with lily-shaped edges. Sitting beside it, Tadeo handed Hoshi a glass.

“No. The cathedral is beautiful.”

Hoshi replied, taking the glass.

The silence from the journey to Myeongnye-bang continued in the cathedral. ‘It’s a bit cold from the rain.’ Hoshi broke the silence. It was an opportunity Tadeo wouldn’t miss. ‘How about a drink to warm up?’ Grasping the bag with holy relics, his hand tightened. Hoshi nodded readily.

The clink of glasses was clear. The hand holding the glass’s thin stem slowly raised it to his lips. Tadeo tilted his first, eyes fixed beyond the round glass.

“Cute, isn’t it?”

As the bitter, thick liquid touched his lips, Hoshi’s eyes, reflecting the scattered candlelight, blinked once. He was surely tilting his glass too.

“I can’t drink this after all.”

“….”

“You need to get better at lying, Father.”

The hand swirling the glass flipped it upside down. The wine, never touching his lips, fell vainly to the floor. Or so Tadeo thought.

“…Mr. Hoshi.”

“I told you to call me by my name.”

But not a drop of Christ’s blood spilled, clinging to the glass.

“I like familiarity, Father. We demons are overly sociable… unlike him.”

Hoshi said, righting the glass.

“Come here, Father.”

Placing the glass on his crossed thighs, he extended a hand. The open palm shone like a newborn star in his black eyes.

“Come and do to me exactly what you did to him.”

“….”

“Exactly as you did to my Bell.”

The gaze, filled with fear, sharpened. Tadeo’s hand, holding the glass, trembled slightly, but his piercing eyes were steady.

“My… Bell?”

“Oh, is that what matters to you, Father?”

The lips, lightly smiling, burst into laughter. The sound filled the vast cathedral like an organ’s pipes. Tadeo’s face gradually contorted.

“Don’t misunderstand. Sadly, we weren’t that close.”

“….”

“Bell. That was my nickname for him.”

Hoshi’s laughter ceased with those words.

“Come on, Father. Kiss me with this holy water.”

The offered hand shone with newborn starlight. Who could call it a demon’s hand? The pale, almost bluish skin bore vivid lifelines from antiquity. Staring at it, Tadeo softly opened his lips.

“One question, Lucifer.”

Passing the folded cuff and plaster-like folds, his calm eyes met Hoshi’s face.

“Did you save Baal back then?”

“And opened your heart at the same time.”

The most favored, yet knowing his pride, a star that had to fall at dawn by God’s will. But God gave eyes made from Eden’s dawn sky and couldn’t take them back. Those eyes pierced Tadeo.

“Did you really think I fell for you, Father?”

How many have drowned in those shallow depths? He had eyes that easily bewitched but lips that never gave sincerity.

“No. Never.”

Behind his curt reply, the vivid altar candles flickered.

“You called him ‘my Bell’ yet saved the one who cut his wings.”

“….”

“Is that possible…?”

Tadeo asked. The ensuing silence filled time densely. The arrogant smile stiffened. Facing an empty palm, Tadeo gripped his cassock.

“I… couldn’t bear it.”

Those grinding moments. The pain of his most cherished became a nightmare over time, and he was still trapped in it. Something welling in his eyes was so hot, it would be red like blood if it had color. Drip, drip, but falling on his fist, he saw it was clear.

The time without Bell was a living hell.

“Bell’s wings are uniquely beautiful. Even soaked in blood, even without light.”

“….”

“I allowed it. I said it was fine to take his wings.”

“Why…!”

“So he’d never think of returning, crippled.”

No trace of Hoshi’s usual smile remained. His fine voice, neither high nor low, dropped to the floor. All dancing candlelight extinguished instantly. The ground they stood on emptied, becoming a void.

Knowing it was an illusion, Tadeo’s startled boots lifted. His bulging eyes glanced at the abyss when Hoshi fiercely grabbed his hand.

“Ugh…!”

“Crushing futile, reckless hopes is my role.”

The silver tray guarding their boundary flew away. His hips, trying to escape to the chair’s edge, were pulled back, his limp body bound. No sound of rolling on the floor came. No glass shards either. As if the ground truly vanished.

“Getting boring. You have neither the thought nor courage to kiss me…”

“Argh…!”

“No choice but to force it.”

An invisible force lifted his body. Floating slowly, a bone-chilling wind blew from the empty floor. In the darkness, his terrified legs flailed like swimming.

“Ah, ah, ugh…”

“Eternal bondage to me isn’t a bad life.”

His jaw was gripped, forcing his mouth open. Something large invaded, seizing his tongue.

“Kyle, Nero, Rosencreutz offered body and soul to me.”

Drooling saliva, only witless groans poured out. Every hole felt like it was spilling everything. The cassock, slit to his thighs, fluttered in the wind, and his flailing legs were tightly bound by black smoke rising like chains.

“Ah, ah, ugh, sob…”

“No one’s coming to save you here.”

As he barely raised his arms to pry off the crushing grip, two more chains wrapped his wrists. His arms were pulled taut, tearing at his limbs, as Hoshi rose.

He walked the black void like Jesus on water.

“The fallen morning star makes all around fall into an unwaking sleep with each step…”

His boots stopped on the long central aisle. Hands in pockets, he tilted his chin, observing as if appreciating something. Hoshi’s lips soon spread into a satisfied smile.

The large Latin cross dominated the cathedral’s center. With the saint’s limbs bound behind it, he looked like Jesus nailed to the cross.

“Child, it’s just you and me here.”

“Bell…” Tadeo squeezed his eyes shut.

“Thrown alive into hell, scattered as bones at God’s feet.”

“Please…” Something hot flowed from his ears. The voice filling his head and the cathedral dazed him. His barely held head dropped. Blood ran down his jaw, staining the Roman collar red.

“You will serve me and be an example of blasphemy today.”

Boom.

A massive explosion swallowed the echoing voice. It was as if the cathedral’s vault blew away. Tadeo lifted his fading vision at the sound. Black hair, messily spilling, covered his eyes.

But he saw clearly. Through the disheveled strands, one being, radiant as sunlight, broke through.

“Michael…?”

Narrowed blue eyes turned to the cathedral’s door. Rain still fell beyond the wide-open door. Despite the dim sky, a ray of light pierced the dark cathedral.

The face of the one appearing with that light wasn’t shadowed. Only long hair, gently swaying, outlined in gold. A corona, like the ring of light leaking from the moon not fully eclipsing the sun.

“Can’t you even recognize your friend’s face now?”

An ambiguous voice. Quiet like footsteps brushing leaves, eerie like trembling twigs rubbing together. Yet it had the growl of a beast ready to bite.

“…Luciel.”

Tadeo’s sweat-soaked eyes blinked once. A presence sharply clear even in blurry vision. Etched in his heart and mind for so long.

It was Belliel.

“Bell, my beloved friend.”

Two angels, once comrades in life and death, faced each other. As Luciel fully turned, the painfully extended tongue retreated, and the blood from his ears stopped. His long-open mouth ached. Tadeo winced at the pain in his tongue’s root.

“Do you see? The offering for God.”

Bell’s face remained unseen, like a standing shadow. Without wings, his bare body stepped into the path of silver light.

“It would’ve been better if you offered him to me yourself.”

“…Luciel.”

“It would’ve been better if you’d given me faith.”

“Luciel…!”

His steps quickened. Veins, bulging like folded sleeve wrinkles, ran from his hands to his forearms. Clenching his fists, his lips, murmuring his old friend’s name, twisted.

Even if the wings I’ve regained become tainted, I will make those responsible pay the price. Whoever made your blood spill. If only I could, I would cast aside the name of an angel time and time again.

With each step, Bell shed layers of the darkness that had stained him. When a single blue eye, brimming with murderous intent, glinted from beyond the fading shadows,

“Luciel!”

He lowered his stance and began to charge.

“Bell…!”

The form that vanished, spreading black smoke, raised a thick forepaw and leapt forward. Gleaming muscles rippled over light brown hide. The massive spine roared ferociously. Tadeo froze mid-scream at the sight of the king of all beasts, its golden mane flowing as it emerged.

The lion, climbing over Luciel’s chest, bared its fangs and roared. Its claws, raised with full force, tore through the vest and dug into flesh. Yet Luciel showed no sign of pain.

“Bell! This feels just like mating!”

Instead, he grabbed the beast’s forepaws and burst into laughter. Rubbing the back of his head against the ground, he curved his narrowed eyes. With a slightly flushed face, Luciel glanced at Tadeo and added,

“I’m not into being watched, though.”

“Do I look like I’m joking right now, Luciel?”

“No. It’s just that I don’t want to get serious.”

“Haa…” After a bout of laughter, his face suddenly darkened. With a lazy sigh, one corner of his mouth curled up casually. His expression suggested that the weight capable of crushing ribs felt impossibly light.

Luciel, gripping handfuls of the mane, pulled the massive male lion’s face close to his own.

“If I took your ribs, what would happen to you?”

His lips, brought close to the whiskered cheek, whispered just shy of touching.

“Hm? Bell, my beloved friend.”

“Go ahead and try if you dare.”

The lion’s mouth twitched with a taunting grin.

“I’m really looking forward to it. It’s thrilling to the core.”

Brushing aside the slender hand, the beast’s sturdy teeth, boasting the majesty of a mythical creature, aimed for the throat. The plunging jaw was moments from seizing flesh.

With a pop, Luciel, pinned under the forepaw, vanished into smoke. The male lion’s four paws fumbled on the bare ground. Its agile body prowled, scanning the surroundings. Seizing the moment, the forepaw of a white lion with radiant silver fur pierced through the smoke.

“Bell!”

The male lion’s golden mane whipped fiercely. As it turned, the raised forepaw met the ambushing one, clashing like twin walls. After repeated shoving and tumbling, a single lion finally claimed the summit. As the black smoke, swirling like a sandstorm, settled, the white lion appeared, pinning Bell beneath it.

The silver mane, swirling like a blizzard, began to shorten. As the massive beast’s face gradually took on a human form, the victorious arm was raised toward the ceiling.

“No!”

Tadeo’s scream, cutting through the temple, was swallowed by the rain.

“Urgh…!”

A warm, metallic liquid wet his lips. Bell, blinking as he followed Tadeo’s scream, slowly lowered his gaze. Luciel’s arm was buried up to the elbow in his left side.

“Did it have to come to this, Bell…?”

Luciel’s voice trembled faintly.

“You, who crossed seas of fire holding me…! All because of one mere human!”

“I told you, didn’t I, Luciel?”

“What…?”

“That I was really looking forward to it.”

Bell licked the blood with a flick of his tongue and smiled. His even teeth, stained with crimson, were bared. The hand searching for a rib finally grasped its prize.

“Lucifer.”

Bell spoke, holding that hand.

“I am the only vessel that can contain you.”

“You…!”

The more he struggled to escape the trap, the tighter the thick arm tightened like a noose. As the hand that had pierced his side like a spear became immobile, panicked eyes darted wildly. A thin line was etched across Bell’s throat, where muscles twitched.

“Look at yourself! Do you think you can bear my name…?”

“I’ll have to endure it.”

Bell pushed the gripped arm deeper, speaking. The pain was bearable. Lighter than when his heart was pierced, lighter than when his wings were severed. Less painful than the moment he faced you, strung up in the shape of a cross. If this suffering, walked in accordance with divine will, lessens the punishment, then it is a paltry mercy.

A pure white light leaked from the gaping side. That light burned the dawn-sky-blue eyes white.

“Lucifer, with me, you will vanish… forever.”

Bell slowly raised his torso. The golden hair, splayed radially, fell straight down. As he spoke the three syllables of the name again, the cut on his throat widened to his jaw.

“I’ll chew your ribs and tear through your gut! With your wings already broken, how will you…?”

The lips, cursing as they pressed foreheads together, left only resonance. The blue eyes glaring drifted over his shoulder. Something disturbed the neatly fallen hair on the straightened spine. The bone, protruding like a small lump from the shoulder blade, suddenly stretched and soared to the far end of the temple.

The wing, not yet feathered, was immense. The thorn-like bones, jutting sharply, grazed the organ pipes. A vast range of sound erupted from the pipes dominating the wall. The deafening roar, as if pedals were pressed and keys struck at random, vibrated with the air.

Then, a single feather, torn by the violent force, caught Luciel’s eye.

“How could you…?”

“There’s nowhere for you to escape, Lucifer.”

“Be, Be…”

White feathers rapidly covered the wing bones. The feathers, rising into the air, scattered like pollen. Soon, the wings took on a perfect form. The radiant wings unfurled, flaunting graceful curves. The dazzling sight poured into his eyes, blindingly.

The white light bursting from his side now swallowed up to Luciel’s shoulder. Entranced, Luciel didn’t notice half his body being consumed. Only when the light reached his enraptured eyes did he snap back, but it was too late.

“Beelll!”

A desperate wail followed. His head and hand, protruding from the side, made a final struggle. He clawed desperately to crawl out. Nails broke as he scratched the floor, and tattered hair swept the ground. As the intensifying light finally engulfed Luciel’s entire body, the gaping side began to heal.

The light was absorbed as flesh knitted together. Every limb was devoured, down to the last finger, until the side closed without a trace.

As the light faded, Lucifer’s screams ceased. The organ’s melody, echoing through the temple, quieted. The fluttering feathers settled to the floor. Everything was returning to its original state.

Hundreds of candles on the altar flared to life at once, and torches on the walls lit in succession. The floor, once an abyss of unknown depths, awoke in its original color. Returning to normal was a kind of magic.

Tadeo’s body, suspended high, found freedom. Slowly, very slowly. As he descended toward the floor, his unfamiliar hands flailed in the air. Only then did Bell, standing with his face hidden by fallen hair, turn around.

The line across his carotid artery stretched to his right cheek.

“Bell, are you… okay?”

As the black shroud swayed at Bell’s waist, he reached out and approached. Their hands clasped, and his other hand wrapped around the trailing fascia. The force supporting his feet vanished. Bell quickly caught the falling body.

They embraced each other tightly, each finding a place in the other’s arms.

“Why aren’t you saying anything… I asked if you’re okay…”

The sound of rain, revived like embers, wet his ears. No, it was your voice that wet his ears.

He should have been the one asking if you were okay. If you were scared, if you were hurt. He should have asked, but his mouth wouldn’t move, so he just held on silently. Then you spoke first. The child who seemed like he’d never grow up had become an adult, capable of asking if he was okay first.

Tadeo kept burrowing deeper into the embrace. Just a little more, a little more. Repeating it inwardly, he rubbed himself against Bell’s chest like a cub seeking comfort.

Crack. Tadeo jerked his face from Bell’s nape. The crack on his cheek had deepened. Crack, crack. As he reached out, the large crack sprouted smaller ones, branching out.

“It’s… your face is cracking… Are you okay…?”

“I’m okay.”

Bell smiled softly as he spoke. The hand, trembling near his face, too afraid to touch, was endlessly endearing. So he couldn’t take his eyes off Tadeo.

In truth, nothing was okay.

“There’s no time, Tadeo.”

“What time…?”

Tadeo asked at the cryptic words. The lack of an immediate answer made his mouth dry. Whenever he looked at Bell’s face, he always thought the same thing: Skin like the surface of porcelain glazed and fired. Why did such soft skin crumble so easily, and was it all because of him?

“What do you mean there’s no time… Are you going somewhere again…?”

“You were curious about my real name.”

Because I had such foolish thoughts.

“I’ll tell you now.”

The black eyes, which had always met his gaze steadily, rolled away. The folded wings filled his widened eyes, but even there, his focus was absent. Tadeo took a step or two back from Bell.

“…No.”

“Listen carefully.”

“No. I’m not curious.”

“My name is.”

“I said I’m not curious!”

His voice, strained with all his might, broke at the end as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“…Bellred.”

You’re always like this, Bell. Saying enigmatic things, keeping all the answers to yourself, holding everything alone.

But, Bell, for the first time today, I think I know the answer to your riddle.

“Shut… your mouth… I said I’m not curious… I said I’m not…”

“Look at me, Tadeo.”

Tadeo buried his face in his hands. His dry eyes stung as they welled up again. Rubbing his eyelids against his wet palms, he shook his head frantically.

“Look at me and say it. Call me by that name.”

Your way of teaching the answer to a riddle is always the same. You don’t hand it over like an open palm; you lead me to find it. Because you’re woven into every memory of my childhood, because I’m steeped in your ways. Even as a grown adult who never went through puberty, I can’t defy you.

“Be, Be… Bell…”

“Hurry.”

Tadeo knew. He knew it wasn’t the time to hide his face in his hands. If he didn’t hold you in his gaze for even a moment longer, he’d live with regret forever.

“Bell… uh, Bell… red.”

When he looked up, a piece of his lead-white skin had flaked away.

“Well done.”

Bell closed the distance Tadeo had stepped back. Do habits change when the color of wings does? If this were before, the thrill of a shattered face would have surged from below, but now, he just wanted to keep meeting those eyes.

He cradled Tadeo’s face, lowering his head to meet his gaze. Like wrapping a shivering body in a coat, his gentle touch enveloped Tadeo’s jaw and neck. The meeting eyes, slightly raised, were a language exchanging emotions that the radiant creation couldn’t fully express.

“Now, you just need to fulfill your duty. Don’t worry about anything. Don’t fear anything.”

“I can’t, Bell… I, I really can’t…”

“You can. You’ve done well so far.”

There was always a strange power in his words. When he whispered, “You can do it,” like now, strength surged from the soles of his feet. But Tadeo shook his head, swallowing choked sobs.

“You said it was about salvation.”

A mirror too fogged to reflect a silhouette, the dizziness from the stifling steam right after shaking off water. Memories buried in the steam were pulled out by Bell. One night at the inn, soaking in the bathtub together.

“…That spirit, its soul must have perished.”

“No. He was saved.”

Funnily enough, Tadeo couldn’t agree with the confident voice in his memory. Even though it came from his own lips.

“You’re the one saving me, Tadeo.”

Bell leaned closer, whispering against his lips. The lips moving so close made him gently close his eyes. The eyes, open until the lips brushed his eyelashes, closed only at the last moment, feeling the touch of lips pressing against his skin.

The lips parted, and the hands cradling his face drew away. Tadeo looked up at the face, cracked up to the forehead. The lips, which seemed like they’d never open, parted. His voice, choked by the absence of sound, was stifled. In truth, it was his own sobs blocking that voice and breath.

His lips moved several times. A voice choked with tears would surely sound pathetic. At least, he wanted to call his name clearly.

In this moment, heralding farewell. To call your name so that, even in death, I’ll never forget this moment.

“…Bellred.”

My demon, cruelly sweet, wickedly beautiful.

The moment the name of evil is spoken by a saint, the original sin of the fall is washed away. The one who descended from the highest to the lowest shone most brilliantly in their final moment.

“Bellred… In the name of the Lord, I command…”

The tears that had stopped didn’t have time to dry before flowing anew. As his words broke with trembling breaths, Tadeo bit his lip. The teeth marks faded, and his lips parted again.

“In the name of the Lord…”

He reached a trembling hand toward Bell.

“In the name of the Lord, I command…”

He caressed the cheek, now crumbling to dust, stroking it with his fingertips. Bell took that hand and leaned his cheek into it. His face, ready to accept everything, naturally closed its eyes. Unable to hold back, Tadeo pulled Bell into an embrace.

“Bell, you are my angel.”

Swallowing the messy sobs leaking through clenched teeth, he continued.

“No matter what anyone says, you were my angel, Bell.”

“….”

“I was saved by you.”

He tightened his arms around Bell’s neck several times. His face, resting on Bell’s shoulder, squeezed its eyes shut. When sobs threatened to burst, he bit down and swallowed them.

“I’ll pray every day… That you can return to where you belong. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? So I…”

Bell opened his eyes in the embrace. Every moment, big and small, since they met flashed like a montage. The Roman collar, crusted with dried blood, came into view. As the arms around his neck loosened, he felt heat under his eyes. The haze beneath his eyes spread across his vision.

Their footsteps parted a step or two. Even after releasing the angel’s body, the hands cradling his face lingered until the very last. Something welling in his eyes obscured Tadeo’s face. So Bell let it flow. Only then did he realize he was crying.

“So I… I’ll do everything I can to…”

“….”

“To let you go.”

The frost-like hand, peeking from the black shroud’s sleeve, pulled a rosary from his pocket. As he briefly bowed his head, tears dripped from the tip of his nose. The trembling hand, clutching the cross, found calm only when placed on Bell’s left chest.

“Bellred, in the name of the Lord, I command.”

He took a deep breath, filling his chest, to complete the final command of exile.

“Return to where you came from.”

At last, Bell closed his eyes peacefully. Even as his eyes shut, Tadeo held onto his smile. He wanted his last memory to be of a smiling face. Watching the form dissolve into foam without missing a moment, he smiled brightly when those blue eyes opened again. The demon, loved by the devout priest, left not even a single tear behind.

Like a lie, the rain stopped. The sky cleared with the sun, and I, holding you as you scattered like the crumbling waves of the Sargasso Sea, wept. Hoping a handful remained, I opened my palm to see golden hair turn to sand, to dust, to air.

I knelt beneath the cross, resenting God.

That was my last exorcism.

🦇

April 1900, on a day when flower petals fell like rain.

“Father Jürgen, I heard you’ve been reinstated to the priesthood. Congratulations!”

“Four years, four whole years! The Vatican can’t do this to me!”

“But even before that, you participated in every Mass, didn’t you?”

Sabina said, tucking her fluttering veil behind her ear. They stood by the tram window, watching the flower petals fall over the streets of Hanseong.

With the tram’s opening, routes extended from Seodaemun to Jongno and Cheongnyangni. The Koreans, who had suspiciously eyed the fishbone-like iron plates laid on the ground, flocked to ride as soon as the tram opened.

The dawn of modernization. The Japanese flag, once confined to Jingogae and Yejanggol, now rippled beyond Seodaemun. One day, Tadeo had said, watching the scene, that the quietly waving cloth was signaling. That a silent upheaval was approaching the world.

“So, you’re leaving the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’ll send lots of letters.”

A few months ago, Sabina, a Jewish woman, decided to return to her homeland, Poland, inspired by the physicist Marie Curie, to pursue her dream of becoming a doctor.

“By the way, how’s Father Tadeo doing?”

A petal, thinner than silk, blew in with the breeze, landing softly on the black skirt of the girl sitting in front.

“Well… he’s been a bit strange lately.”

Sabina, watching the dozing girl’s round forehead, turned to Jürgen.

Her skirt, gathered above her ankles, fluttered. The leather shoes, stepping carefully one by one, began to skip two steps at a time. Reaching the hill of Myeongnyebang, Sabina ran without pausing for breath. Her shoes dashed into the corridor with the confessional, heading straight for the priest’s room at the end.

“Father Tadeo, it’s Sabina. I’m coming in!”

Without waiting for a reply, she flung the door open. The window with red curtains was open. The room, bathed in warm sunlight, was colored with the hues of early afternoon. The bed by the window had its covers thrown back, and the slippers were missing from their usual place. Startled, Sabina whipped her head around, scanning the room.

“Good heavens…”

Covering her wide-open mouth with her hand, only her bulging eyes were visible.

“Why so surprised, Sabina?”

At the end of her gaze stood Tadeo, wearing a white undershirt.

“Father, are you feeling better now…?”

“Since a while ago. Not completely, but much better.”

His pale cheeks and gaunt body, with joints protruding starkly, were far from impressive. Yet the black eyes within his cat-like, elongated gaze remained as clear as ever. The corners of his mouth curved upward neatly, like a woman’s tightly bound hair, while his eyes curved downward, making the sunlight streaming behind him all the more radiant.

“I’ve got the strength to walk, and I can talk like this…”

“Father!”

Ugh, a bony finger pressed against cracked lips. What surged up, roiling his stomach, was none other than a cough. Once it started, it wouldn’t stop until he coughed up blood. They said it wasn’t tuberculosis. It wasn’t contagious either. The cough grew so fierce it felt like his intestines might burst out, and his legs, leaning on a Bible, wobbled.

His illness, without name or cause, had no cure. Tadeo accepted it humbly, saying it was all the will of the Lord. Sometimes he said things that were hard to understand, like, “For someone who sold their soul to a demon, I’m living quite long.” Each time, Sabina shuddered in horror, and Tadeo would smile silently, rubbing his chest.

“W-Water… Water…”

“Just a moment!”

Sabina, who had been supporting him, rushed to the side table where a pitcher and cup sat.

“The water… Oh no, Father, wait just a moment! I’ll get some water quickly!”

Finding the pitcher empty, Sabina set it down irritably and hurriedly left the room.

Tadeo, hearing her footsteps racing down the corridor, clutched his stomach and chest. No matter how much food he forced down, retching, he grew thinner by the day, and now he even worried his ribs might break from coughing. Indeed, each cough brought pain as if his ribs were being crushed.

“Haa… Haa…”

The coughing stopped sooner than expected. A faint metallic taste rose in his throat, but his hands were clean, not a drop of blood. His body was gradually improving.

Regaining his breath, Tadeo moved slowly. He walked to the bed and lay down his spine-protruding back. His chest, constricted during the coughing, slowly relaxed. The aching pain in his ribs pressed heavily on his chest.

“Haa… Hoo…”

After coughing, his breaths always sounded like this. Wheeze, wheeze. The sound, as if phlegm clogged his lungs, rang sharply through his chest. Turning his head on the soft pillow, he saw a wall bathed in yellowish sunlight. There hung the black shroud he had worn.

“…Tadeo.”

“….”

“…Tadeo.”

Was I closing my eyes?

“Tadeo.”

Why are my eyes so heavy today? Tadeo struggled to lift his eyelids. Dust-laden eyelashes rose wearily. On the sunlit wall was someone’s shadow. It resembled the one he had missed every single day.

Long, slender hair, a head that looked small against broad shoulders, and beautiful wings filling the gaps with sunlight.

“Bell…?”

His head whipped toward the window. A gust of wind made the red curtains flutter, covering it entirely. As the shadow swaying along the magnolia branches outside vanished, anxiety surged.

“Are you Bell…?”

The wind wouldn’t settle, burning his insides. Each flutter of the curtain seemed to reveal golden hair. Tadeo rubbed his eyes and looked at the window again. A dazzlingly white hand parted the curtain.

You must have been unable to wait for this moment, just like me.

“Sorry for making you wait so long, Tadeo.”

“Where have you been to show up only now…?”

Bell was still beautiful. Above his head floated a radiant halo, shaped like wings instead of spokes, shining like a blazing star.

Perhaps God was in high spirits when creating him, or poured every effort into it. Otherwise, such beauty couldn’t exist. Every detail was so finely crafted it couldn’t be overlooked. At times breathtaking, at times breathing life into a stilled heart, his ultimate beauty resembled his existence, which made me live and die.

“Tadeo, take my hand. There’s a place we need to go.”

“I’m scared of flying…”

“It’s okay. If you’re still scared, I’ll cover your eyes.”

Bell extended a hand glowing with light. His soothing voice gave strength. Fingers too weak to move grasped at the air, and his body rose, following the head lifted from the pillow.

“It’s amazing. Being with you, nothing feels hard.”

At Tadeo’s words, Bell only smiled silently.

“But, Bell, where are we going?”

The moment we, separated for four years, connected. As hands intertwined through beams of light, the clock in the room, once still, began to tick again. Tick, tick. The second hand moved quickly to catch up with the long-lost time, tickling his ears.

The branches of an old cherry tree, swaying with wingbeats, shed petals like spring rain. Petals settled on the instep of feet crossing the windowsill like a barrier. As those wings enveloped our bodies, I met his gaze, with the radiant sun as our companion.

On a day in April when sunlight fell. My angel returned.