Chapter 43 Return

Chapter 43: Return

The air almost froze.

I saw that melting face.

It was instantly burned through, the skin wrinkled, and then the red burns quickly spread across his face. His face began to fester, his eyelids, his mouth, everything melted.

The corners of his mouth drooped, his lips burned into uneven shapes, twisted and twisted together, but his expression remained smiling. That face looked both terrifying and ridiculous.

…It was my face.

The next second, intense pain overwhelmed me, and I felt like I could barely breathe—

I had become that person.

I fell to the ground and rolled, clawing at my face, hoping to stop the pain. The pain surged through me like a tidal wave. The back of my head banged against the cold bricks, my teeth grinding violently, my legs kicking and kicking, my body twisting and twitching—

I wanted to scream, but what came out of my body was a shrill laugh.

I was laughing.

was laughing.

I couldn't tell if it was tears or sulfuric acid, dripping down my melting face.

…It hurts…it hurts so much. My skin is burning, my flesh is corroding, blood is everywhere. It's unbearable…tear it off…tear my face off———

"Look at you, how miserable you are…what a travesty performance…"

Who…who is speaking?

I force my eyes open, the world blurring—

I'm alone.

For a moment, I think it's an illusion caused by sulfuric acid flowing into my ears and damaging my eardrums.

But the lingering, lingering voice still haunts me.

"But I approve of this performance. Everyone knows the clown is a great actor—"

I gasp, unable to speak. My throat burns, and laughter tears at my throat, bursting out into the silence.

…The clown?

The voice seems to know what I'm thinking.

"Oh—stop pretending, sweetheart."

"You know, you guessed it."

It judges me with a nonchalant tone.

"That's not a script, that's your past."

…

…my past?

…No…no, no…

…Impossible… I didn't do those things, it's impossible…

"You just forgot…" the voice was soft, like a devil's temptation. "The witch's spell is about to wear off. The clock is about to strike twelve—you should remember."

An invisible pain exploded in my mind. The voice seemed to tug at my hair, shaking my head. Fragments of thought peeled from the depths of my consciousness. I was in pain, so much pain…

…Who am I?

…I'm Jack Napier

… Am I sure?

The voice laughed, a trembling laugh, like a thousand mouths laughing wildly at once, each one pressed against my ear.

"You are me."

"I am you."

"There is no Jack… It's a lie, an illusion. Call yourself anything you want, Peter, Thomas, John, sweetheart, you can even call yourself Alice—"

The laughter grew stronger, almost piercing the roof.

"He made you forget, gave you false memories… to trap you forever!"

The voice suddenly deepened, becoming a faint whisper.

"Poor fellow, always trying to be a hero, showing off his unrequited love for the clown..."

The voice was sharp, like a rusty spike piercing my temples, churning my brain, swirling in and out.

"He wants to tame the clown, he wants to cure the clown, he wants to keep the clown under control, he wants revenge on the clown! He wants to make the clown a normal person!"

"But the clown can never be cured."

My body was shaking violently, and I couldn't grasp the truth, only the peeling skin on my face.

Blood and paint were stained between my fingernails.

"The show is over, but the audience just won't leave—" The voice was laced with sighs. "Uncle Clown has to keep working."

"But you have to wake up."

A floodgate was breaking, and memories roared like a flood, carrying chaos and madness, rushing over me and overwhelming me.

"I've worn that mask for too long, sweetheart."

"It's time to take it off."

...

I reached out.

I took off the mask.

The skin on my hand was charred and twisted, and blood trickled down the charred edges, seeping through my fingers.