Hell's Actor-Chapter 240: Innocently Joyous

In a very literal sense, to be enchanted is to be placed under a spell.

But how many can firmly claim that they have experienced this very rigid phenomenon? How many can truly say that they were placed under a spell?

The entirety of Berlin on a particular day, apparently.

This film, which hadn’t received much attention during its production, had that effect on them.

Watching scenes that had no right to be as impressive as they turned out, one could feel the true intent behind art films.

Refinement.

It wasn’t the thrill of a fast-paced action.

It wasn’t the sorrow of a soul-wrenching tragedy.

It wasn’t the trepidation of a heart-pounding horror.

Art films were meant to be extremely refined, less dramatic, and a more colorful counterpart to a commercial movie.

Perhaps intentionally, that very refinement encapsulated The Photographer perfectly.

It appeared to be a mildly interesting character at the beginning of the film. He held value, but somehow seemed to fall behind the rest of the components—the atmosphere, lights, and camerawork.

Strangely enough, it didn’t seem to matter then. For whatever reason, he seemed to fit in perfectly.

’It’s like watching a gemstone being refined.’

That was the thought Lucifer had as he watched the scene from one of the seats in the last row.

Sitting next to him was Satan, while the girl they had brought along—and clearly not abducted—sat next to him.

It was a theater near the outskirts of the city.

Lucifer lightly cleared his throat. "Where did you get these tickets, might I ask?"

Satan looked at him for a second before answering, "Purchased them off a group of friends."

Drenched in blood, the cuffs of his shirt suggested otherwise. This particular devil’s idea of a purchase seemed to differ from that of humanity.

He stared at their friend on the big screen, his wide grin communicating an encouragement to ’come to the dark side.’

Regardless of their thoughts, the movie ran along its course, threatening to pull the audience into its world.

It was a truly enchanting sight.

***

Charles carried the trash can all the way back to his apartment.

He wanted to get rid of the body, but it was a metal dome for a city he lived in with no earth to dig into. Burial was out of the question, and where would he burn it if he wanted to?

Plus, the chip in his neck was complicating matters.

The authorities—if they ever cared—could make themselves aware that he had been there twice. He couldn’t allow them to find the body if ever they wanted to search for it, although he doubted such a thing would ever come to pass from what he had gathered.

The authorities of The City didn’t give a damn about the destitute, he knew.

When he entered his apartment, the lights were off, and the broken faucet had been replaced.

He placed the trash can by the door and rummaged through one of the drawers. Marianne had brought him toiletries and other useful items. Candles happened to be one of them.

Charles lit one and dragged his tired body to the bathroom. He didn’t think he could endure the flashing lights today.

On the soap tray, he poured a drop of molten wax and stuck the candle on it.

Having filled the bathtub with water, with knees embraced, he found himself soaking in its warmth, his gaze stuck to the flame of the candle.

Everything that had happened played like a record tape in his mind. The sounds, the sights, and the colors were horrible. And the reminder of what he had done induced dry retching.

He was confused, truly confused.

The candlelight shimmered on the surface of the clear water. It illuminated the surroundings in a way that felt almost taunting to the neon lights outside.

Burning like Christmas lights, the droplets on Charles’s eyelashes scattered like sparks as he closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he was standing in front of the trash can, fully dressed. It was difficult to gauge what emotions that gaze carried.

He placed the burning candle by the window, left the room, and went downstairs.

The shady establishment next door had a payphone attached to a crumbling wall. Keeping an eye on his lighted window from downstairs, he dialled a number.

The call rang, but no one picked up. So, he tried again.

The ringing sound intensified, but Marianne paid it no mind. She remained in her sunlit room, drawing her latest piece.

Charles’s expression was anything but serene as he leaned back, waiting for his fiancée to pick up.

He wiped his face, but the monotonous ringing only exasperated him.

Unable to bear his weight, the part of the wall attached to the phone fell. Frustrated, he threw the receiver at it before returning home.

He stood in front of the trash can, breathing through his mouth to calm his heart. With anxious trepidation, he opened the lid and swiftly retreated.

It was awful as he had expected. He kept reminding himself of The Lady. The image of her was the only thing that kept him somewhat sane.

But the longer he looked, the less horrifying it felt.

The clock’s second hand slowly moved. All sounds became distant. Each of its ticks showed a subtle change in the photographer’s expression.

His face became solemn, his demeanor distant. And as the second hand reached a full circle, a malevolent violin solo began.

In a psychotic haste, Charles picked up the dead girl, tore her dress, and dragged her into the bathroom.

The bathtub hadn’t been emptied, and he threw her in. Holding her neck in his hand, he submerged her head, staring into those dead eyes.

The water drained her of blood before he rubbed her wounds and scrubbed her clean. How many times he had emptied the tub and filled it again, he couldn’t count. But that didn’t matter; she deserved the very best treatment.

After drying her extensively, with a thread and a needle, he sewed her wounds closed. Expertly, he combed and styled her hair in a way to hide her damaged eye.

He dressed her in a nightgown he hastily went out to buy, propped her against the foot of his bed, and clicked photos of her. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

So innocently joyous he looked, at the thought of having enhanced her beauty.