The Serpent of Paradise - Chapter 28

In one corner of his room stood a screen similar to the one in Anastasia’s room. A woman was peeking out from beside it. Mikhail sighed and rubbed his face.

“Haa….”

Seeing the woman smiling at him, Mikhail let out a disbelieving laugh. It was the face of the woman who left him dumbfounded earlier that day.

Mikhail could be certain that the Anastasia peeking out from beside the screen was a hallucination because her face looked far too healthy.

Her clean face bore no marks from being struck or crying. She had filled out pleasantly, and a healthy flush colored her white cheeks. Her dry, brittle hair gleamed even behind the screen where no sunlight reached, while her round eyes sparkled with the color of a summer forest. Her lips even wore a gentle smile he had never seen before.

Mikhail bit his lip. He thought he understood why Igor’s face reddened, and he avoided answering when asked what he saw. A drug that showed a person what they wanted with such vivid realism. It was a decent drug. No wonder more people were becoming addicted to it.

Mikhail looked at his hand. Igor said he would hallucinate, but aside from seeing something that couldn’t possibly be there, all his senses felt normal. That made the woman before him feel even more real.

Holding his side with one hand, Mikhail slowly rose. Apparently realizing that he intended to approach, the face beside the screen quickly disappeared. She was as nimble as a squirrel fleeing from a person in the forest.

Where could she possibly go? This illusion belonged entirely to him. Therefore, the room was securely locked, none of its doors would open, and the woman couldn’t escape him. Mikhail did exactly what he wanted to do earlier that day. He strode toward the screen without hesitation and shoved it aside mercilessly with one hand. He couldn’t understand why he restrained himself earlier instead of doing something so simple.

Once he acted upon his desire, Anastasia stood there, staring at him with startled eyes. But she neither screamed nor fled. She watched him for a moment, then approached first and stood before him. Her long, slender fingers felt their way over his large hand as it pressed against his wound.

Even though she was an illusion, the moment Anastasia touched him, a tingling sensation ran down Mikhail’s spine. It truly was a damned good drug.

Mikhail started to reach out, then changed his mind and remained still. He was curious to see how the Anastasia of his imagination would behave.

Perhaps she liked that he didn’t stop her. Anastasia placed both her hands over one of his and smiled brightly.

He thought it would be difficult to imagine because he never saw her smile in reality, yet the Anastasia in his hallucination smiled easily. Satisfied to discover that he possessed more imagination than expected, Mikhail continued watching her. Anastasia held his hand for a moment, then slowly lowered her head.

The red hair that swayed with her anguished sobs in his arms earlier that day brushed against the chest exposed between the open buttons of his shirt. The drifting strands were soft and ticklish. Just as he thought the breath touching his chest felt hot, Anastasia’s head slowly descended.

She gently pushed away Mikhail’s hand. Her strength was weak, but Mikhail offered no resistance and left his wound completely exposed.

Mikhail lowered his head and looked down. The wound in his side, which Igor stitched closed again and cleaned, lay fully exposed.

Even if this was a hallucination, he couldn’t believe he was revealing his weakness so defenselessly to someone else. As Mikhail stood there dumbfounded, Anastasia lowered her head farther. Warm, soft flesh, unlike the rough lips he saw earlier that day, lightly touched his wound.

Like a believer kissing a holy relic in church, Anastasia’s actions appeared reverent and sacred. But in stark contrast to her behavior, Mikhail’s body rose swiftly with the basest desire.

Even though the fabric below his waist bulged impressively in an instant, Anastasia neither recoiled nor stepped back. She kissed his wound again. Her soft hair tickled the most sensitive part of him beneath his trousers. The moment Mikhail clenched his teeth, Anastasia carefully lifted her lips and said, “Thank you, Mikhail.”

Her voice was filled with affection, as though she were addressing someone deeply familiar. At that moment, Mikhail realized he could no longer endure it. And that there was no reason to.

Mikhail seized Anastasia by the wrist and pulled her toward the bed. Thump. When her delicate body fell onto the mattress, he burst into laughter once more. The Anastasia in his hallucination was wearing the indoor dress he gave her earlier that day so neatly and obediently.

“It suits you just as well as I imagined.”

He climbed onto the bed and trapped her body between his knees. But Anastasia neither screamed nor fled. She didn’t even become tearful. Instead, she continued smiling and opened her arms toward him. As though asking him to embrace her.

Seeing Anastasia smiling beneath him, Mikhail felt ashamed for the first time in a very long while. The drug Igor gave him revealed with horrifying clarity what lay at the very bottom of his desires. Mikhail reached out and seized Anastasia by the collar.

“Then why are you wearing clothes?”

At Mikhail’s words, Anastasia tilted her head and moved her small lips, her arms still extended toward him.

“Don’t you like them? I wore them because you gave them to me.”

Watching Anastasia answer, Mikhail clenched his teeth again. Damned drug. It didn’t need to show him what he wanted this explicitly. Walking naked through the town square would be less humiliating than this. Mikhail suffered as he confronted the pure desire revealed by the hallucination.

“It’s not that I dislike them.”

Of course he didn’t. When he told the maids to leave the clothes behind earlier that day, he imagined dressing her in them himself.

Once he removed all those ragged clothes, the body she kept so tightly wrapped and hidden would be completely exposed. Then he intended to examine every part of Anastasia’s body. To see whether this frail body suffered any further injuries while that bastard pinned her down.

After looking and touching everywhere to ensure she was unharmed, he would slowly draw the linen slip down over her naked body from her head. The fine strands of her red hair would spread beautifully over the pure white linen. The linen fitted neatly around her would reveal every curve of her body.

Then he would reach out again and dress her in the indoor dress made of soft fabric. Once he fastened the buttons up to her neck, she would look so modest that no one would believe a man dressed her. Just like Anastasia beneath him now.

“You put it on so nicely.”

Perhaps because this was a hallucination, her skirt lay beautifully smooth without a single wrinkle. Mikhail straightened, then climbed off Anastasia. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he gave an order to Anastasia, who looked at him in confusion.

“Anastasia.”

“Yes.”

An obedient, docile voice. Anastasia gazed at him with the attitude he always demanded from everyone. Mikhail gave voice to the deepest desire he harbored.

“Take it off yourself.”

For me. By your own choice. Anastasia smiled brightly and answered, “I can’t do that.”

“…Why not?”

Still kneeling on the bed, Anastasia clasped her hands in a posture as reverent as when she kissed his wound and answered, “Because God told us not to walk the path of corruption.”

At that moment, the ground beneath his feet suddenly heaved violently. Unable to keep his balance, he swayed helplessly. Absurdly, he felt as though the God he didn’t even believe in was punishing him. Punishing him for the sin of trying to defile His lamb with his desires.

Mikhail reached out. He tried to seize Anastasia, but though she stood directly before him, his hand couldn’t reach her. Just as his surroundings began to darken….

“…!”

Mikhail opened his eyes. The sensation of opening his eyes again when they were already open felt remarkably strange.

“Haa….”

He sat up and looked around. The scenery was identical to what he saw moments ago. The bed where he lay, the exotic screen standing a short distance away, and the medicine Igor left behind.

Everything remained unchanged except for one thing. Anastasia, who was on his bed, vanished without a trace.

“Fucking hell….”

Mikhail roughly swept his hair back. When he realized everything he saw was an illusion, an immense sense of emptiness overwhelmed him. Mikhail reached out and picked up the glass of water on the bedside table. Gulp, gulp. The water Igor poured for him rushed down his throat. Even after emptying the glass, his thirst didn’t readily subside. His throat burned so fiercely that Mikhail finally rose.

Noticing the hand holding the glass trembling faintly, he gave a bitter smile. What is this pathetic state, like a boy after his first wet dream? The only person who appeared in his fantasy was a woman dressed perfectly modestly, yet even that left him panting like this.

Even in his fantasy, Anastasia called upon God at the end and refused to come to him.

“I decided to remain here until the end of summer.”

Mikhail planned to spend the three months until his wound fully healed here. Igor and Yuri advised him to put work aside for a while and find himself a hobby. Though he listened to them, he hadn’t yet decided what he could possibly do besides work.

“….”

Mikhail recalled what he told her at the end of the fantasy. He also remembered how she disobeyed his command and called upon God.

“I don’t need hallucinations.”

Mikhail rose, picked up the medicine from the table, and threw it through the open window.

His eyes gleamed as he stared into the darkness.

“I only need to make it real.”

It seemed he had finally found a suitable way to relieve his boredom while staying in this tedious place.