[BL] The Darling Villain

Chapter 89. My Family is Human

Author's Note: istg, the day I had motivation and decided to write—Wattpad began giving me internet connection issues. Anyways, I believe that Lucilline's villain arc will soon be over in a few chapters. I can't wait to see the normal Lucy! This villain Lucy is kinda scary ngl 🤧

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The next morning, Lucilline was thrown into prison.

His body felt haggard, as if a thousand stones pelted across his distorted figure—like a puddle of darkness swamping in shadows. The black-haired villain allowed himself to sink to the dirty cobblestone ground, the rugged stone scraping his knees.

He already knew the outcome of his actions.

The judges settled for "life imprisonment", and it was determined for him to stay behind the black lines of prison bars eternally.

Quite frankly, the black-haired villain did not have the appetite to care anymore. Lucilline slumped at the wall, feeling the minuscule rough edges scratching past the fabric of his clothing, and venturing deep to stab into his skin. The black-haired villain's face was pale to the point of appearing ghastly, as if he was a ghost sneaking out at the midst of midnight.

His cheekbones protruded out from his skin—he hadn't eaten for a long time.

Lucilline remembered the sight of his crimson red eyes reflecting upon Willow's mirror. He chuckled to himself. I really am a demon. That appearance of himself was unsightly—it was inhumane.

He was able to slaughter countless individuals without mercy. Perhaps he deserved to rot in the jail cell for the rest of his life.

Not a single sound permeated in his ears.

Even his copper bell lost its lustre. Its sweet and bubbly sound had faded away, becoming rather dull and weak.

At nighttime, the torches would extinguish, allowing darkness to seep into every crook and cranny.

Lucilline trembled. It felt as if he'd been burrowed six feet below ground, with the suffocating laughter of silence strangling his throat in their hands. It reminded him of that madman—his uncle, Orion—relentlessly stabbing a blade straight through his mother's chest, blood flooding the chamber and clogging his every shortness of breath.

He thought to himself: even death would be better than this.

When there is endless darkness, it allows room for imagination. The beaten villain found himself curled in a weeping fetus position, his fingers and toes numb cold, while clutching onto his aching stomach. He was akin to a starving child wandering about the frozen streets, the lone child of Christmas Eve.

A spark of fire drew his attention to a lit window.

The child peered in, witnessing a splendour of extravagant meals and feasts. His mouth watered uncontrollably, and the rumbling in his stomach trampled over his pride. He found himself sinking past the window glass, nearing the turkey platter placed centre, and reached out a hand—

Lucilline woke up to the sound of a hushed whisper.

"Lucilline, get up."

His groggy eyelids threatened to fall back down, but he persevered and stretched them awake. The jail cell was horridly cold. Lucilline wished that he hadn't awoken, so he wouldn't have to experience such a sensation.

"Lucilline. Lucilline Rubius." An old woman's voice croaked out from the other side of the cell.

The black-haired villain faltered. He recognized this voice.