The Day the Moonlight Whispers (2)

The corridor I entered again.

Between the gloomy shadows, bright light stretched out in straight lines, creating another set of bars. The pillars of light connected by dust particles flashed and faded, spreading long shadows in all directions whenever someone reached out their hand. A prisoner who had lost motivation while sitting down tried to grab the light by waving their hand several times before losing motivation and dropping their head.

“I’m just saying this, but we won’t assign any staff to supervise separately, and the soundproofing is good. So… Yes. Ahahaha.”

The guide laughed, trailing off at the end of his sentence. It meant he didn’t want his words to be picked up by anyone else, no matter how he ended it. The soundproofing is thorough and there’s not even supervision. So punish your colleague according to your conscience.

I looked at the whip in my hand. It was made of hard, rough leather and felt heavy. When I tried hitting a scarecrow with it at the lodging, it was strong enough to make the scarecrow tilt.

“Well, this is the place.”

The end of the prison corridor. The bars where Ashuria had been lying were empty. The guide took out a key from his waist and opened the door. With a clang, the sound echoed, and a black room met my gaze. The air didn’t circulate well, creating a stuffy breeze, and white light illuminated the center of the room.

A small lamp that transmitted power through some special mechanism flickered unsteadily despite the lack of wind, creating faint afterimages.

“…Then I’ll take my leave. Here’s the key, so when the punishment is over, please unlock it and come out together.”

As I stood looking around the room, the guide pressed the key into my hand. He didn’t like the gloomy and brutal atmosphere of this prison. Even now, if you stretched your neck out and looked around, malicious hands like seaweed were swaying, trying to grab the neck of the guide walking the corridor and rob him.

I waved once to the guide who disappeared without looking back, then closed the door.

---

Silence and warm, drowsy air. The white light spread a faint gray light, and Ashuria was kneeling.

Her arms were bound with handcuffs and ropes. She was hanging her head without looking at my face. I stroked the whip while looking at her back. The clothes with the back cut out for whipping were so thin that the outline of the underwear she was wearing could be seen.

I stroked the whip with my hand and asked:

“…What were you thinking when you made this proposal?”

Ashuria didn’t turn her head. She didn’t seem surprised that I had come. As she relaxed her shoulders, the back muscles moving with them narrowed seductively and then spread out smoothly again. That sight under the white light felt as if it was tempting me.

“Have you heard stories of people being reborn through trials?”

Unlike Ashuria’s calm tone, her feet were fidgeting. It was a movement that seemed more like impatience in the face of some expectation rather than her legs being numb.

“My learning is shallow, so I haven’t heard. Is it a religious story?”

“In the scriptures, there’s a story of a man who committed a great sin throwing himself into fire with a repentant heart to burn away his sins, and being reborn as a pure human.”

“Did you make this request because you wanted to obtain such purity, Sister Ashuria?”

Ashuria shook her head. I was only looking at her back, but it felt as if I was talking to her face to face. Ashuria said:

“I just had an impertinent thought.”

The phrase “impertinent thought” leads to many imaginings.

None of them were wholesome stories.

I gripped the whip upside down. The end of the whip handle was blunt and cold, so it would surely surprise someone if it touched their bare skin. I looked at her straight back and carefully pressed the flesh with the end of the handle. Her back, with its intertwined muscles, pushed me back with an elastic texture.

“What exactly was this impertinent thought?”

Ashuria’s shoulders were trembling. Her hands and feet curled up as if touching an invisible being, then moved as if playing an instrument. She sighed lightly like someone suffering from cold, then bowed her head and said:

“…The thought that if I said I would take punishment, you might come.”

Strength entered the whip handle. As I lightly pressed and traced her back, I could see her waist bending slightly. The way she thrust her chest forward gently, as if trying to describe a great bow, looked like some classical dance.

“Haa…”

A moan escaped from Ashuria’s mouth. I reached out towards her shoulder. I lightly pressed her shoulder, and Ashuria raised her head to look at me. We were making eye contact from opposite directions.

Her black eyes were filled with excitement.

“Did you do this thinking I wouldn’t punish you if I came?”

“…I did it believing you could give me a harsh punishment.”

Ashuria said that. Her face was flushed red, and her toes touching my shoes kept wriggling. I removed my hand and stepped back. Ashuria bowed her head again and breathed heavily.

I swung the whip lightly in the air to gauge its strength. The sound of hitting the floor was crisp, and a few stones flew up and hit her flesh. A red mark appeared on her white skin and then disappeared.

Even at that light impact, Ashuria’s body trembled slightly as she regulated her breathing.

“You’re a pervert.”

Ashuria’s ears turned red. I struck the floor once more, spreading the explosive sound near her ear. At the sound of hitting a closer spot, I could see Ashuria’s whole body trembling and her legs briefly closing as she clenched her teeth.

The profile that was briefly visible disappeared into her ebony-like hair like an afterimage left by the dim light.

I whispered in her ear again:

“You say you want to wash away your sins, but in reality, you were trying to fulfill this desire.”

“…I will… reflect…”

Ashuria dragged her words slowly.

Red face and nodding head.

I distanced myself again. Her smooth body looked momentarily naked due to the dim light. I readjusted my grip on the whip, then struck her back with all my strength.

Smack!

“Ugh…!”

Ashuria closed her legs. A red welt remains. Her body twisted with a groan, and between her panting breaths, her outstretched tongue appeared and disappeared. I readjusted my grip on the whip and said:

“Is this what you wanted? To be beaten with a whip while being treated poorly by a comrade?”

“I’m… I’m sorry…”

Ashuria voiced. Her apology was filled with intense emotion. But there were still 49 lashes left, and I decided to leave the second mark on her waist.

Smack!

“Ah…!”

This time, her body stretched like a bow with a sigh. She tried to forcibly raise her kneeling knees and move forward, then slumped back down in place, dropping her head. Arms and legs trembling. I heard her breathing remain steady, confirming that she was still okay.

“What would others say if they saw you? What if the hero saw you like this now?”

Ashuria opened her eyes and looked into space. She shook her head lightly, then smiled and said:

“…Now, the hero is fine… Please… continue…”

The whip flew again. The third whip mark crossed with the existing marks, leaving an X-shaped mark.

“Aah…! Haa…! Haa…!”

She moaned with her head down. She was half-raised with one foot up. I circled around her and said:

“The sin you truly need to repent for isn’t just hitting a priest, is it?”

Ashuria nodded.

She wasn’t really repenting at all for the nominally cited crime of assaulting a priest.

She wasn’t here just to play with me.

She wanted something deeper.

As I circled around Ashuria, I could see a cross lying upside down on the floor. That cross was telling me. That she wanted to deny her years of attending this church, and the very existence of Ashuria who had served the church.

Like some man who burned himself in fire and became a new person

She too wanted to shed her former self through this torture and repaint herself as a new self.

Didn’t I say?

That when she needed to be whipped, I would do it.

If she has a burden, it’s my role to lighten it.

Ashuria’s eyes met mine as I circled around. She looked at me with determination even in her face stained with excitement. She nodded while biting her lip, and I readjusted my grip on the whip and said:

“You won’t be able to cut everything off.”

A drop of sweat rolled down Ashuria’s forehead. She nodded and said:

“…Covering up the lingering attachment to this church. That alone is enough.”

I turned my body again. The dim light shone on the red marks left on her back. Sweat droplets rolled down over the wounds with her panting breaths.

“If you quit the church, what will be left for you, Sister Ashuria?”

Ashuria turned her body to look at me. Her alluring face, her voluptuous curves faced me.

“The hero.”

Ashuria smiled.

“Lena.”

Her hands went limp.

“Mille.”

Her eyes sparkled.

“You will be by my side.”

I said, gripping the whip tightly:

“Yes. We will continue to be together.”

The sound of flesh and leather colliding echoes with moans.

Her moans sounded sad in one way, and joyful in another.