595 Hall of immortality, part 47 - Sleepless Woman

For Insomnia, this hall was a perfect birdcage. I knew this hall was built to keep me locked up. But when I got back to thinking, the hall itself was like prepared for her, and she even thanked her father for doing so. She thought my father, my mother, and my servant were insomnia friendly.

No, maybe the truth was different. The father remodeled the hall and drove his daughter to a deep, hard-to-reach compartment. That was because he feared no other daughter, and he pretended to be distressed by the hall, creating an excuse not to see his daughter.

The mother had also seen with strange eyes since the birth of her daughter. Still trying to raise him as his own daughter, he tried to behave affectionately, but he couldn't help but look like a monster his daughter couldn't get enough of. For this reason, the mother's eyes were always frightened behind her actions and words. Fears you may not get, and excessive mental burdens gradually freak people out. Insomnia's mother gradually became mentally ill.

Nor can the servants feel anything about the attitude of their parents. Besides, Insomnia was a child who made a factually creepy impression, and everyone and everyone was dealing with this girl far away.

Maybe Insomnia didn't have any responsibility. A child does not act with a clear awareness of what to do when he is still unconscious. Some of them may, for example, contain creepy bugs in their mouths. Sometimes they may hold bird feathers that happen to come within reach. Hot water may fall on the face of the maid who knocked on her desk and happened to be sweeping under her desk. It just so happens that Insomnia may have mistaken violent means such as whipping for love when her father had a seizure and flogged a slave (or servant she called a family member).

Maybe everything happened. But I didn't think so around Insomnia. Too many, he said. A lot of things were too hurtful to clean up by chance.

Where Insomnia's heart stood, she was alone. She seems to be quite the person in that capacity, never having someone dress her up, or experiencing a fun afternoon tea with her parents. It was just that she was encouraged to be in a limited space and imprinted that it was everything in her world.

But Insomnia had one nature. That means she won't sleep. I've never craved anything called sleep when I was born. If the nature made her unnecessarily creepy. Instead of crying at night, she was not satisfied with how much milk she gave her. Instead of groaning again, I didn't cry or laugh.

Thus she was spooked, but her nature of "no need to sleep" gave her immense time. She read and fished books irrespective even in the middle of the night, and thanks to that she acquired a higher upbringing for her age. And when he was tired of studying the whole way, he went outside, anticipating that the people of the hall had fallen asleep. Apart from the space she was given, she knew that the world was infinitely expanding.

I know, and it should be noted that she chose to stay locked up. In an infinite world she was not very confident of giving love, nor was she meant to be a fraternist. She wanted to know love within her own reach, and deeper than to spread love. To do this, this closed world was very convenient.

That's how Insomnia began to grow its branch of slowly distorted affection within a limited world. Its branches are thick and long. Gradually, it also involves the surrounding trees, while endlessly depriving them of nutrients and bearing fruit. Eventually, by the time the fruit had ripened and the fruit had decayed, the trunks of the trees had progressed by the time even the foolish earth had developed a rotten odor.

Insomnia's expression of affection passed degrees, and each time she deepened her loneliness. The more solitude deepened, the more harsh her expression of affection became.

Insomnia did not die in a mansion on the ground. It seemed trapped at first sight, in fact making a hidden passage secretly and repeating the act of descending underground. At first glance Insomnia seems to have lived since being trapped for years, but doesn't know when he actually died. He was also passionate about eating and starved to death as he repeatedly recorded his distorted abduction imprisonment in the name of affection. But even if she starved to death, her actions never stopped. Among the repeated acts, Insomnia eventually forgot why she went into such an action herself. Only the act became familiar and only the hand became better. Repeated acts of torture, like the work, increased in intensity and cruelty as they proceeded, making it possible to hear screams, anguish and resentment from the mansions beneath. Sometimes the voice that sounded groaning from the basement sounded faint when the inhabitants of the hall put their heads on the ground to sleep, and eventually all the people of the hall couldn't sleep. And when he finally fell asleep with his mind, insomnia began to appear in his dreams.

This is almost the whole story of what happened in this mansion. Insomnia died himself, and even after he had brought all his servants to his death, he continued to kill the human beings involved in this mansion, without stopping the act. By then, the implicit understanding of not being involved in the museum was known, while the casualties continued to emerge out of the idyllic mountains and curiosities. Each one of you was hidden, and she was not subject to conquest, but fully immersed in the act, enhancing her character as an evil spirit.

The first thing I noticed was Doom. The evil ghost, who smelled of man's death, rejoiced in the presence of this hall, where nasty events were repeated, and welcomed her into her company. Insomnia didn't succumb to Doom, but I found Doom handy for bringing myself around that kept me caught in the hall and allowing me to have a width in my choices. By then, Insomnia was already a fine evil spirit with free will.

Doom was a very useful presence for Insomnia. The darkness held by Doom was deep, and Insomnia had nowhere to feel its depth and breadth, but Doom was completely apart from Insomnia and fun in terms of aesthetics. In that regard, the time taken around by Doom, on the other hand, was a long way from spreading the sight and pursuing his own way of loving.

It was just very gratifying to give you a way to strengthen your own mansion, called 'Castle'. Reinforcing his own realm, Insomnia once again tried to immerse himself in his world. But all the lovers of the hall were dead because Doom had taken them around for a long time. For this reason Insomnia tried to gather new lovers.

But what was decisively missing was. Insomnia never came to the point of how things had never come to light while I liked them so much. Life has just lived in a closed world as a matter of course, loved the men you like as a matter of course, and pursued your own warped love. I never dreamed there would be anyone in the way.

Still, this time, Insomnia stood well against those who came into its own realm. Those who dance above their own hands. Based on the military technique that I once read as one of my indoctrinations, the enemy on the large side moved as intended. Their damage was less than thought, but as long as they were in the hall, there was no danger of their own. That's what I assumed.

But not just the boy who sleeps in front of me right now. It seemed to work as intended, doubting all its fruits, and finally creeping through all its traps to reach the centre of the Insomnian Hall. At the heart of this mansion, even his father said he'd never been in.

Still, it was fortunate for Insomnia to bring the boy into the world of his dreams in a flash of darkness when the room was surrounded by darkness. Insomnia stared seriously at the boy's face as he reached his own, with his sword and arms sealed in his hair. If you look closely, you look adorable inside. Maybe this is an object to love enough. The fat boy next door looks loud, but I think the other boy is going to snap in a pretty voice too. Speaking of which, did you kick him out of the room but wasn't the other boy even prettier? When Insomnia, convinced of victory, shifted consciousness to a new gain.

Deep into Insomnia's chest, Jake's sword was pierced. Insomnia notices her own chest discomfort.

"Are you alarmed? The fight isn't over yet!

Jake pulled his sword straight out to the side with his strength as it was. If humans are opponents, they cut their hearts off, but they are evil spirits. I don't think the concept of a human steeple works.

Jake swayed his hair around his body as soon as possible, or when he cut it off, he put his sword back together. At the same time, cut off the hair that hangs around Rascal and Bruns' body.

"Wake up! Rascal, Bruns!

"Ugh, huh?

"That's right, Mother. Sleepy."

"Don't fall asleep! The enemy leader is in sight, cover him!

Without waiting for the two awakeners, Jake stormed Insomnia as he had dreamed. But unlike the dream, this time the enemy's hair moves fast out of step. Jake is on the defensive side of the enemy's penetration from all directions in a narrow space.

But Jake didn't lose his cool. Insomnia's attacks are factually troublesome, and if we can continue like this, we won't be able to tolerate them. But Insomnia's offense was fierce, but Jake knew full well it belonged to an amateur. Not as intense as Rafferty, not as impatient as Alberto. And like Miriazal, I don't even feel the strength of human separation.

Jake was sure. It is not a victory, but the presence of those who lend him strength.

Continued