Machida Sonoko let out a complicated sigh as she read through the tragic story laid out in words.
The Ellen depicted in the game's background was undeniably loathsome—someone to be hated and despised.
Her actions had long since crossed the boundary of humanity.
But after reading this diary, Machida suddenly had a realization: Was it truly Ellen's fault that she had become the monster in the game?
The answer was clear—no, it wasn't.
Born into misfortune, she had to shackled her true nature, suppressing herself in order to win her mother's love.
She tried to be obedient, mature—everything a "good" child should be.
Yet, even then, a small mistake was enough for her to lose her mother's affection entirely.
She was abandoned, discarded without a second thought.
And the man she called her father? Even when Ellen herself admitted to killing her own mother, he barely spared her a glance.
Not even for a second.
The one thing she longed for most—her mother's love—was shattered, turning to dust before her very eyes.
All of this—the pain, the neglect, the rejection—had laid the foundation for the tragedy to come.
Machida didn't know how to feel.
"Why did they have to create such a complex character?"
No, that wasn't quite right.
"Why couldn't the story just end when the game ended? Why did they have to flesh out her background like this?!"
She felt overwhelmed, torn between conflicting emotions. She sympathized with Ellen's suffering, yet she couldn't forget the atrocities she had committed.
Two opposing emotions twisted together, creating something even more unbearable.
And as a professional editor with years of experience, felt this way, she could only imagine how other readers were reacting.
Taking a deep breath, she continued reading.
By all accounts, the story should have ended there.
But the sudden appearance of a demon changed everything.
With the enticing promise of a "home," Ellen agreed without hesitation, and the story moved into its next chapter.
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In this new home, under the influence of magic, Ellen became... normal.
She had a beautiful face, a strong and healthy body.
The price? She could never leave the house.
What would happen if she did? The demon never said, and Ellen never asked.
At first, the house provided everything she could want. It was comfortable, warm, filled with beautiful things.
But one thing was missing—people.
The house was maintained by creatures born from magic, but Ellen, as a human, felt a deep loneliness.
After all, humans are social beings.
Cut off from the world for too long, isolation had a way of driving people mad.
"I want a friend."
One day, Ellen went to the demon and made her wish known.
"That's easy," the demon said. "Just bring them here."
Ellen couldn't leave the house—but she could lure others in.
As a witch, her magic extended throughout the entire forest.
The house was her brain, the surrounding woods her limbs. If she tried hard enough, she could invite people inside.
So she did.
And soon, the house welcomed its first guest—a young boy.
He eagerly accepted Ellen's invitation to tea, stepping inside without hesitation.
As they spent time together, Ellen, nervous but hopeful, finally asked, "Will you... be my friend?"
The boy started visiting regularly, playing with her, laughing with her.
He called her name. He waved at her, and she waved back.
For the first time, Ellen felt happiness.
Ever since she had made a friend, the black cat hadn't appeared again.
Time passed.
One day, the boy said something unexpected.
"Hey, Ellen. You should come outside sometimes."
His invitation made her hesitate.
She refused.
The black cat's warning echoed in her mind—she must never leave the house.
But why? She didn't know.
So, instinctively, she used an excuse.
"I... I'm sick."
"Sick? But you look fine," the boy replied. "It's just for a little bit. It should be okay, right?"
It was such a tempting offer.
The black cat's words faded from her memory.
'Just for a little bit. It should be okay, right?' That thought took hold.
So, Ellen took a step outside.
And then—
'Thud.'
A searing pain slammed into her skull, as if she had been struck with a hammer.
She collapsed onto the dirt.
Her right eye burned. She clutched it instinctively, feeling a warm liquid seep through her fingers.
Blood.
The boy realized it before she did. He stumbled back in horror.
Desperate to reassure him, she forced a smile—only for the skin on her face to peel away, falling in jagged flakes.
There was no doubt.
Faced with such a horrific sight, the boy screamed and ran.
His expression—the sheer terror in his eyes—was like looking at someone staring at a monster.
The look stabbed through Ellen like a knife.
There were no words to describe the pain in her heart.
The truth was clear.
Even a "friend" would abandon her in the face of such horror.
As the boy disappeared, the black cat reappeared.
"Doing nothing won't make you better."
Magic could maintain her body as long as she stayed inside.
She wouldn't heal—but she wouldn't die either.
Even as her illness worsened—even if her legs rotted away, even if her eyes lost all sight, even if her face became so ruined that no one could recognize her—she would still live.
Forever.
Because now, Ellen was a witch.
Despair swallowed her whole.
Then, that despair twisted into hatred. Hatred for the demon who had tricked her.
But demons, by nature, could see through the hearts of humans.
And before she even realized it, a knife had found its way into her clenched fist.
Ellen screamed, slashing at the black cat with all her might. She didn't care where the blade landed—she just wanted to silence its taunting voice.
Yet, even when the knife plunged into its heart, the demon did not die.
It spoke with the same calm tone, its cruel words stripping away the last of Ellen's defenses.
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"No one ever loved you. Not a single person."
"Your father never even looked at you. Your mother was planning to abandon you. You wanted so desperately to be loved. To love someone in return."
"It's all because of this illness. That's why no one loved you."
"How strange. You deserve love, don't you?"
"That boy, too—he left you the moment you got sick."
"So cruel, isn't it? Everything is because of your illness."
"But you already know what you truly want, don't you?"
———————————————————————
Yes.
Ellen knew the answer.
A healthy body.
And so, before the broken girl, the demon offered her one thing—hope.
But hope always comes with a price.
And the demon was ready to name its terms.
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