“So bright… where is this?”
Raphael was sitting in front of a stage.
The glaring lights shone directly into her violet eyes, making it impossible for her to keep them open.
Squeak—pull—pull—pull
The harsh noise forced her to cover her ears.
The stage curtain was drawn back, revealing several puppets lying collapsed on the floor.
The lights had already focused on those puppets the moment the curtain opened.
Threads extended down from the pitch-black ceiling, wrapping around the puppets’ limbs.
“Hehe… the show’s about to start.”
A strange female voice came from all directions, echoing slightly.
Raphael looked around in panic.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
She tried to stand, but couldn’t move. It felt as though countless hands were grabbing her body.
Her eyes turned uncontrollably toward the puppets on the stage.
All of them looked at her in unison and bowed.
The button eyes seemed almost alive, and that frightened her.
The puppets on the stage began to move.
A female puppet dressed in a purple-and-white robe stood at the center of the stage, dancing gracefully.
The other six puppets surrounded her, watching.
They moved like living things, and their usually fixed faces now wore eerie smiles.
Countless threads fell from the canopy above, continuously wrapping around the central puppet.
Until finally, the puppet was entirely cocooned in threads.
The remaining puppets pressed in close, drawing nearer and nearer.
Raphael felt a wave of panic.
She was just a spectator—why was she so afraid?
The next moment, threads had already wrapped around her limbs without her noticing.
Pain shot through her body.
She wanted to scream but couldn’t make a sound.
“Hehehe~”
The strange female voice came again from the dark surroundings, still playful, as if watching some absurd comedy.
She was pulled upright by the threads and forced to move, twisting and turning as they directed her.
It was like the puppet on stage, dancing some unknown dance.
Blood seeped from her limbs, but the threads only tightened further.
They sank deeper into her flesh.
Crimson blood flowed.
Her muscles were cut, her bones severed.
And all she could do was watch… watch herself being toyed with.
When the dance finally ended, she was no longer human-shaped—just a bloody, messy lump of flesh.
In the last scene, she saw it… a purple-and-white figure.
“No… no!”
Raphael thrashed her limbs, her back drenched in cold sweat.
Her body still ached faintly.
She hugged herself tightly, feeling her own warmth.
Her throat was dry.
Looking around at the familiar surroundings, she let out a sigh of relief.
“So it was just a dream…”
The cool night breeze hit her, but it didn’t feel cold—only pleasant.
Still, she couldn’t help shivering.
She climbed out of bed, her bare feet touching the floor.
The feeling in her dream had been so real—so real that she had truly believed she was being…
“How strange,” she muttered.
She walked to the living room, poured a glass of water, and took a small sip.
Feeling her parched throat relieved, she turned her head to look out the window at the high-hanging moon.
The more she looked, the colder she felt.
The moon was no different from usual tonight, yet it made her uneasy.
Her body began to tremble slightly—not from cold, but from the emotion called fear.
“Why… why is this happening?”
A headache began to pound in her skull, sharp as needles, as if something was trying to crawl out from inside.
She clutched her head with both hands, her already trembling body shaking even more violently.
Suddenly, Raphael felt something being draped over her.
A hand rested on her shoulder—the palm a bit rough, prickling her skin.
But at that moment, it felt so reassuring.
Even the painful headache eased a little.
Laiyinmute sat down beside her, looking at her with some confusion.
He had just finished his work and was planning to drink some water before bed, but when he stepped out, he saw his little maid acting strange—sitting alone in the living room, apparently shaking.
“What are you doing? Sitting here with nothing on—aren’t you afraid of catching a cold?”
Even though Laiyinmute knew that things like colds and fevers barely affected the Demon Race, he still couldn’t help worrying.
“I’m fine, Master.”
Seeing that his little maid didn’t want to say more, Laiyinmute didn’t press.
He tightened the coat he had draped over Raphael and said, “Speak up if something’s bothering you. Go to sleep early—I don’t want to see you wake up late and not have lunch ready tomorrow.”
“I really am fine, Master. I just… had a nightmare.”
Laiyinmute was a bit surprised.
A demon’s nightmare—was it different from a human’s? Probably not.
Essentially, demons were a branch of humans anyway.
He placed his hand gently on Raphael’s head and rubbed it a few times.
The texture was as good as ever.
A faint green light glowed from his palm, almost invisible to the naked eye.
Raphael leaned into the large hand stroking her head, nuzzling against it.
The pain in her head had mostly subsided, no longer as unbearable as before.
Laiyinmute took his hand away, picked up the glass of water Raphael had been drinking from, and downed the remaining half in one gulp.
Raphael felt the hand on her head disappear and instinctively kept nuzzling for a moment before realizing.
A pang of reluctance stirred in her heart.
Laiyinmute stood up, stretched, and yawned sleepily.
“Haah… go to bed soon. I’m dead tired. You should rest too. Good night.”
With that, he walked toward his own room.
A small smile appeared on Raphael’s face.
Softly, she said, “Good night, Master.”
Then she too stood up, tightened the white coat around her, and took a gentle sniff.
It still carried the lingering scent unique to Laiyinmute.
It smelled like a quilt dried in the sun.
She lay down on her small bed and pulled the covers over herself, with Laiyinmute’s coat underneath.
The pleasant fragrance still lingered at the tip of her nose.
Her eyelids began to droop, and soon the room was filled only with Raphael’s steady breathing.
“Mm… today’s results aren’t bad. At least passable.”
Laiyinmute looked approvingly at the two paintings on his desk.
He took down two picture frames from the wall, tossed the ones inside into the trash, and replaced them with the new ones.
He hung them back on the wall, adjusted the angles slightly, and nodded with satisfaction.
Then he began to take off his clothes.
As he lifted his shirt, a hideous scar was revealed at his chest, stretching all the way down to his abdomen.
It was quite frightening.
He touched it lightly, and the scene from that day seemed to flash before his eyes again.
He tossed his clothes carelessly onto the chair.
Lying down on the bed, he crossed his arms behind his head and stared blankly at the ceiling.
Soon his eyelids closed.
The blanket lay to the side.
He actually didn’t like covering himself with a blanket—it was summer now, and hot, wasn’t it?
The entire house fell into silence, with only the faint, alternating sounds of breathing.
Everything sank into stillness.
The full moon still hung high in the sky.
If you looked closely, you could even see a faint shimmer on its surface.
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