The scene opens on a household wreathed in darkness. Michel is navigating purely by the light of a candle, the windows boarded up and shuttered. He opens the door to his own bedroom, to find it occupied by a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who should not be in his room, let alone unattended. The painting, too, which was covered when he left, is bared to the candlelight. It depicts a woman too, a presumably beautiful one with white hair-- the painting is slashed beyond recognition, as if by a knife.
Giselle: Why would anyone... Giselle: She was surely a most beautiful woman... Angelic, even... Michel: You saw it, didn't you? Giselle: ...! Michel: You saw the painting, didn't you? Giselle: Ah... Michel: You entered my room without my permission... and you saw the painting, didn't you? Giselle: I, um--! Michel: "Angelic," you say? There's nothing angelic about that damn woman.
Giselle: Nnh... ah... Michel: Why did you enter my chambers? Giselle: ...[REDACTED NAME FRAGMENTS]... Michel: What were you looking for? Giselle: Ah... nnh... Michel: Answer me. Giselle: Ah... ahh... aah... Michel: What were you trying to find, and what were you planning to do with it? Giselle: Nng... nnh...! Michel: Answer me. Giselle: Hahh... Michel: Another thing you refuse to tell me, then? Michel: That's fine, though. You don't have to tell me. I have a pretty good idea. Michel: Money is what brought you to [REDACTED]. And it's what brought you to me too. Giselle: ...! Michel: There are countless people who would love to see that house fall. And a noble family fears nothing more than disrepute. Giselle: Hahh... ah... Michel: You were, I presume, approached by someone scheming [REDACTED]'s downfall. Giselle: ...N...no... Michel: And as it just so happens, [REDACTED] have a very unfortunate secret-- one they are quite desperate to keep under wraps. Me. Giselle: ...Nngh...! Michel: Someone suspected I might still be alive, so they sent you to dig up information about me. My very existence threatens to tear down that house. The cursed youngest son of [REDACTED]. Michel: [REDACTED], who made a pact with the Devil-- who is supposed to be dead, but is very much alive. Giselle: ................. Michel: You sweet-talked your way into that house, and into information about me and my present situation, and you meant to trade that information for money. I bet whoever it was put quite a handsome price on it too. Michel: Or maybe the one plotting to ruin [REDACTED] is you. Giselle: ...N...No! Giselle: No... th... that's... not true! Michel: Then enlighten me. Giselle: Please... h-he-- hear me out... Giselle: I didn't know anything about you... Giselle: I-- I wasn't... sniffing around... or trying... to bring you harm in any way...! Michel: Then tell me. If that's not the reason you wormed your way into [REDACTED], and that's not what you're doing here, then tell me what is. Giselle: I-- I- I-- Michel: Tell me why you came to this mansion. Michel: Tell me. Michel: I must assume I'm right, then, Giselle. Michel: A merchant's daughter became an abigail at a noble house? Could you come up with a more obvious lie?! Giselle: ...Ngh... Michel: You look perplexed. Michel: I may be imprisoned in this house, not free to move about as I please, but I have my ways. Giselle: ................ Michel: I know everything. Michel: Oh, yes, I do know. Giselle: Pl... Plea... Giselle: ...d... don't...! Michel: In your quest for money-- Giselle: ...Don't say it--! Michel: --you slept with my father.
At that, Giselle panicked, screaming, knocking Michel aside and running, running, running, until she was out of the house, into the rain.
Michel is in the dark mansion again, pitch black but for the light of the single candle he's holding. He hears a distant knock, and begins making his way across the mansion toward it. As he's making his way, he hears yelling-- picks up speed, but catches a bit of conversation as he's approaching the scene. A beautiful woman, a different one from before, this one pale and red-eyed as he himself is... is by the open door, pinned under a strange, scruffy man who is shouting at her. She seems helpless and terrified.
Vagrant: God? If I believed in God, would I come beggin' to a witch? I don't fear 'im, and I sure as 'ell don't fear people! Oo's gonna show at a 'ouse in the middle of nowhere? Oo's gonna call me out? Oo's gonna stop me? No one, that's oo. No one's gonna stop me, and no one's gonna offer me salvation! WHG: —! Vagrant: Aah, there's a thought. Ye're a woman, so afore I kill ye— Michel bellows: What are you doing?! Vagrant: What?! There're other people 'here?!
As soon as Michel grasps the situation, he tosses his candlestick aside and hurls himself at the man. The candle goes out with a clang, plunging the mansion into near total darkness. However, there is a glint of something sharp in the man's hand--
Michel: N...rgh...! White Haired Girl: ██████!! Vagrant: Hah, hahah! 'Ow stupid must ye be to come at me unarmed?!
In his hand the man held a knife, its tip dripping with Michel's blood. There was a gash in his arm, bleeding heavier by the second.
Michel: ....... Vagrant: Ye're the only other person 'ere, by the looks of it, eh? Perfect! I'll take ye both out! Michel: You... Vagrant: What? Michel: You don't appear to know whose house you tried to break into... Vagrant: What're ye on about? Michel: Regret your ignorance to your very last breath... Vagrant: Ye're messed up in the 'ead, ye madman! Ay, stay the 'ell back! Take one more step an'—
Michel reaches out and grabs the man's face in one hand.
Vagrant: —?! Michel: I inherited the witch's curse. Vagrant: L— Let— Let go—!
The strength seems to drain from him, and he drops the knife. He writhes in Michel's grip, face seeming to wither away.
Vagrant: Ah, aaaah! M-Me face! Me face! Gaah, I can't breathe! Ng, ngggh, rrrgh! Michel: Leave this place immediately. Though you won't get far afflicted with my curse.
The bandit screams helplessly and runs away, unable to even consider fighting back. Michel and the White Haired Girl are left alone, him bleeding.
Michel: ....... Michel: That was quite disturbing for you, I'm sure. White Haired Girl: ...No, no, not at all! It's my fault, anyway. If I hadn't been so careless... Oh, your arm! We need to get that wrapped up! Michel: Please, do not touch me. You mustn't touch me. The wound is hardly fatal. White Haired Girl: It's all my fault... I'm so sorry! Michel: No, a degree of the blame falls on me for saying nothing. Next time someone comes to the door, let me know. White Haired Girl: I'm sorry... Michel: Please, you don't need to apologize. I... um, well... White Haired Girl: Yes? Michel: For once, I'm actually proud of myself. Proud that I could use this terrible ability to do more than just take life — to protect someone I care about. White Haired Girl: ...! Michel: Ah, erm, uh... So like I said... please don't apologize... White Haired Girl: All right. Thank you. Um, ██████? Michel: ...? White Haired Girl: I'm glad you're here. I care about you too. Michel: ....... Michel: Th... thank you...
The memory ends with soft fuzzy feelings in almost complete darkness.
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MEMORY 1
Giselle: Why would anyone...
Giselle: She was surely a most beautiful woman... Angelic, even...
Michel: You saw it, didn't you?
Giselle: ...!
Michel: You saw the painting, didn't you?
Giselle: Ah...
Michel: You entered my room without my permission... and you saw the painting, didn't you?
Giselle: I, um--!
Michel: "Angelic," you say? There's nothing angelic about that damn woman.
He holds her at knifepoint. She hyperventilates, reduced to incoherence by her terror.
Giselle: Nnh... ah...
Michel: Why did you enter my chambers?
Giselle: ...[REDACTED NAME FRAGMENTS]...
Michel: What were you looking for?
Giselle: Ah... nnh...
Michel: Answer me.
Giselle: Ah... ahh... aah...
Michel: What were you trying to find, and what were you planning to do with it?
Giselle: Nng... nnh...!
Michel: Answer me.
Giselle: Hahh...
Michel: Another thing you refuse to tell me, then?
Michel: That's fine, though. You don't have to tell me. I have a pretty good idea.
Michel: Money is what brought you to [REDACTED]. And it's what brought you to me too.
Giselle: ...!
Michel: There are countless people who would love to see that house fall. And a noble family fears nothing more than disrepute.
Giselle: Hahh... ah...
Michel: You were, I presume, approached by someone scheming [REDACTED]'s downfall.
Giselle: ...N...no...
Michel: And as it just so happens, [REDACTED] have a very unfortunate secret-- one they are quite desperate to keep under wraps. Me.
Giselle: ...Nngh...!
Michel: Someone suspected I might still be alive, so they sent you to dig up information about me. My very existence threatens to tear down that house. The cursed youngest son of [REDACTED].
Michel: [REDACTED], who made a pact with the Devil-- who is supposed to be dead, but is very much alive.
Giselle: .................
Michel: You sweet-talked your way into that house, and into information about me and my present situation, and you meant to trade that information for money. I bet whoever it was put quite a handsome price on it too.
Michel: Or maybe the one plotting to ruin [REDACTED] is you.
Giselle: ...N...No!
Giselle: No... th... that's... not true!
Michel: Then enlighten me.
Giselle: Please... h-he-- hear me out...
Giselle: I didn't know anything about you...
Giselle: I-- I wasn't... sniffing around... or trying... to bring you harm in any way...!
Michel: Then tell me. If that's not the reason you wormed your way into [REDACTED], and that's not what you're doing here, then tell me what is.
Giselle: I-- I- I--
Michel: Tell me why you came to this mansion.
Michel: Tell me.
Michel: I must assume I'm right, then, Giselle.
Michel: A merchant's daughter became an abigail at a noble house? Could you come up with a more obvious lie?!
Giselle: ...Ngh...
Michel: You look perplexed.
Michel: I may be imprisoned in this house, not free to move about as I please, but I have my ways.
Giselle: ................
Michel: I know everything.
Michel: Oh, yes, I do know.
Giselle: Pl... Plea...
Giselle: ...d... don't...!
Michel: In your quest for money--
Giselle: ...Don't say it--!
Michel: --you slept with my father.
At that, Giselle panicked, screaming, knocking Michel aside and running, running, running, until she was out of the house, into the rain.
MEMORY 2
Vagrant: God? If I believed in God, would I come beggin' to a witch? I don't fear 'im, and I sure as 'ell don't fear people! Oo's gonna show at a 'ouse in the middle of nowhere? Oo's gonna call me out? Oo's gonna stop me? No one, that's oo. No one's gonna stop me, and no one's gonna offer me salvation!
WHG: —!
Vagrant: Aah, there's a thought. Ye're a woman, so afore I kill ye—
Michel bellows: What are you doing?!
Vagrant: What?! There're other people 'here?!
As soon as Michel grasps the situation, he tosses his candlestick aside and hurls himself at the man. The candle goes out with a clang, plunging the mansion into near total darkness. However, there is a glint of something sharp in the man's hand--
Michel: N...rgh...!
White Haired Girl: ██████!!
Vagrant: Hah, hahah! 'Ow stupid must ye be to come at me unarmed?!
In his hand the man held a knife, its tip dripping with Michel's blood. There was a gash in his arm, bleeding heavier by the second.
Michel: .......
Vagrant: Ye're the only other person 'ere, by the looks of it, eh? Perfect! I'll take ye both out!
Michel: You...
Vagrant: What?
Michel: You don't appear to know whose house you tried to break into...
Vagrant: What're ye on about?
Michel: Regret your ignorance to your very last breath...
Vagrant: Ye're messed up in the 'ead, ye madman! Ay, stay the 'ell back! Take one more step an'—
Michel reaches out and grabs the man's face in one hand.
Vagrant: —?!
Michel: I inherited the witch's curse.
Vagrant: L— Let— Let go—!
The man raises his knife to fight back, but...
Vagrant: Ngh, rrgh, nnh, mmmmnph! A-Ahh, what, what's 'appenin'?!
The strength seems to drain from him, and he drops the knife. He writhes in Michel's grip, face seeming to wither away.
Vagrant: Ah, aaaah! M-Me face! Me face! Gaah, I can't breathe! Ng, ngggh, rrrgh!
Michel: Leave this place immediately. Though you won't get far afflicted with my curse.
The bandit screams helplessly and runs away, unable to even consider fighting back. Michel and the White Haired Girl are left alone, him bleeding.
Michel: .......
Michel: That was quite disturbing for you, I'm sure.
White Haired Girl: ...No, no, not at all! It's my fault, anyway. If I hadn't been so careless... Oh, your arm! We need to get that wrapped up!
Michel: Please, do not touch me. You mustn't touch me. The wound is hardly fatal.
White Haired Girl: It's all my fault... I'm so sorry!
Michel: No, a degree of the blame falls on me for saying nothing. Next time someone comes to the door, let me know.
White Haired Girl: I'm sorry...
Michel: Please, you don't need to apologize. I... um, well...
White Haired Girl: Yes?
Michel: For once, I'm actually proud of myself. Proud that I could use this terrible ability to do more than just take life — to protect someone I care about.
White Haired Girl: ...!
Michel: Ah, erm, uh... So like I said... please don't apologize...
White Haired Girl: All right. Thank you. Um, ██████?
Michel: ...?
White Haired Girl: I'm glad you're here. I care about you too.
Michel: .......
Michel: Th... thank you...
The memory ends with soft fuzzy feelings in almost complete darkness.