I Became A Ghost In A Horror Game

"After that, I defined the emotion of anger as evil. So I tried my best to hold back my anger, but in the end, I ended up erupting in a fit of rage again."

I can't even laugh at how pathetic it is.

I had to endure and endure, but what on earth gave me the courage to do that?

I'm stupid.

"Every time I see monsters treating people like livestock, I remember the past and commit the evil called anger, turning people into wolves, turning cities into forests. Over and over again. Like that."

In the dark night,

Where I pass through the bushes, only madness-filled anger remains.

Because the anger I couldn't control myself ended up corroding others, turning them into wolves.

Why does my anger only end after hurting something greatly?

I know all this anger is evil, so why am I, who aimed to be a good kid, still committing evil?

My anger. My own anger.

My anger swept over the livestock like a wave.

And in the end, nothing remained.

It's selfish.

The act of corroding others with my anger, turning them into beasts like wolves, and ultimately making them get hit by arrows.

How is that any different from the monsters who treat people like livestock?

Why am I still wandering around with Maria?

Did I think I could change?

Did I think I could atone?

Me, who just swings around recklessly?

Alice appears next to me as I keep reproaching herself.

Alice speaks.

"Yet, you are still committing the evil called anger, Little Red Riding Hood. If you want to uproot that evil, you need to understand where that anger comes from." ᚱάＮO͍ΒĚS

Badump.

What am I angry about?

The moment I see irrational monsters corroding people, the miserable sight of humans losing their humanity and turning into monsters.

I thought they were like livestock.

I got angry remembering my past mistakes.

"That must have made you angry too. But look deeper."

Badump.

...I was very angry when Mr. Pig tried to get eaten in my place.

It was because I cherished Mr. Pig.

"Is that really all?"

Badump.

...No.

I'm not such a good kid!!!

I'm a terribly selfish person, you see.

I was angry.

Not just because something I cared about got hurt, but because of the idiot who calmly accepted such irrational treatment!

Damn it! Why don't you resist? Why don't you question? Why don't you get angry!

Yes! Now I realize.

I was angry at myself!

The self that couldn't boldly say what it wanted.

The self that couldn't overcome fear.

The self that didn't rebel.

The self that pretended not to know, pretended not to understand, and tried to remain a good kid.

The self that couldn't push itself forward.

That's right!

Do you know why I got angry when that bullied boy tried to comply?!

Because I saw myself in him!

And I saw myself in the livestock too!

The sight of conforming to the absurd and the infuriating.

The sight of not resisting, just lazily accepting it!

It was like looking in a mirror, and it made me furious!

"You thought it was okay to endure, but when you saw your reflection in the other, was it miserable?"

Yes!

I wished that boy would suddenly become fierce, fight back regardless of getting hurt, and even if he became unhappy later!

Even if he became as bad as the wicked wolves, I wished he would be fiercer and scarier!

I'm that selfish, you see.

Even though the people turned into livestock would die painfully if they resisted, because they were powerless, and even though they had reasons to comply, I broke the order just because I was angry.

This is the result.

With my anger, I turned the people who had become livestock into wolves, and like hitting a rock with an egg, they all died in the end.

The result of powerless flailing was this miserable.

"You've faced your anger. But don't just focus on the bad aspects. Isn't that right, Mister Pig?"

Mr. Pig?

Mr. Pig walked up from behind Alice.

He should have died from an arrow.

I stepped back slightly in fear.

He must resent me.

But Mr. Pig's voice carried a feeling of joy.

"You know, Little Red Riding Hood. Do you remember that time? When we went for a night walk."

I remember.

The full moon bloomed beautifully, and enchanted by its energy, we ran around, and I chattered with Mr. Pig.

"That time was very precious to me."

Why are you speaking so softly?

Why are you speaking so nostalgically?

At that time, I only took you along for my own sake.

"You know, Little Red Riding Hood. That's why you were precious to me. Living as just an animal in hell, I never felt the preciousness of life. It felt like I spent precious time back then that I never would have had even as a human being. I lived a very passive life before falling into hell."

"...Me too."

"That's why, when the hungry ghosts attacked you. I unconsciously stepped forward and took the attack for you. I was afraid of losing you."

I hugged Mr. Pig. I wanted to hear that story closer.

"We are those who have become accustomed to compliance, ultimately forgetting how to get angry. In our previous lives, we committed the sin of sloth by not standing up for ourselves, and we were punished to live as animals."

What are you trying to say?

"But when you turned us into wolves, we finally learned how to get angry for ourselves. Even if the result isn't good, we learned how to get angry. We are originally those who, even if we die, are reborn in the barn and repeat the pain. Do you now understand why we didn't resurrect as livestock?"

The things I did... Did they all have meaning?

Really?

Even though I did bad things?

Even though I selfishly scattered one-sided anger!

Someone like me doesn't deserve to be comforted by the thought that the result was good... Right?

"I'm a bad kid..."

"The order set by the world isn't kind, so sometimes you need to bare your teeth. If it's hard to do alone, sometimes you need a bad friend to push you forward."

Sometimes you need a bad friend...

"What do you want to do?"

"I."

What I want.

"I want to become the moon."

Looking up, the full moon comes into view.

A moon tinged with red.

The red light is subtle and beautiful, yet in the West, this moon is often depicted as an ominous presence.

Like the adjective "lunatic", meaning madness.

I wanted to share the madness to ignore the overwhelming order that everyone thinks is inevitable.

Madness is perceived negatively.

It must be due to the trend of this era that considers it a sin to not stand alone with reason.

But in ancient times, madness was classified as inspiration given by the gods.

A gift that pushes reason forward, one step ahead.

"I want to become the moon. I want to push people forward and help them get angry. I only expressed my own anger when I saw myself in those who suffer, but at the same time, I didn't want them to suffer like me. Even if they have reasons to hold back their anger, even if this is my selfishness, I want to believe... That it's right."

Because I too...

"When I was scolded by my parents, I wished someone would push me forward so I could rebel and say I was right."

The backs of those who endure because they have no choice.

I want to stretch out my red, dry anger with my hands and be their bad friend, pushing them forward.

Of course, the result might not be good.

They might even get hurt.

But even so, I want to urge them to forget their fears and all their powerlessness, even if they get hurt, to bite back.

To get angry.

To growl.

To rampage.

As a devil committing evil.

But I hope this evil is part of a greater good.

That the evil of human anger defeats external evil.

...

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