Transmigrated as the Villain Between the Heroine and the Villainess

Eric fell knees-first onto the dirt.

The truth, held back for years by a dam of pure hatred, washed over him. All the memories he had lost after accepting the demonic power came flooding back.

He could hear a voice in his head, cold and familiar. 'What are you doing? You are not that stupid anymore. Get up. Fulfill what we desire.'

He ignored it.

All he could see was Mariam.

And then, a new memory, a horrifying one, played in his mind.

He saw himself, a monster of grey skin and bone, grabbing the neck of a small child.

His daughter.

His own hand instinctively went to his throat, his fingers digging into his skin. "What have I done?" he whispered to himself.

He let his hand fall, looking at his bony, grey fingers with disgust. "I have killed the only one I had left in this world," he choked out. "I have killed her with these filthy hands."

"When she protected me, she took it all for herself," he cried, the black tears streaming from his empty eye sockets. "And yet I was blinded. I suspected her. I... I killed her."

He started beating his fist against the ground, again and again.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The hard-packed earth cracked under the force of his blows, and his fist started to bleed, a thick, black ichor. "It wasn't enough," he sobbed. "I grabbed the neck of my daughter with these hands." With a sickening crunch, he broke the fingers of his own hand.

The memory of the havoc he had created at the party played in his mind.

He saw himself, a blur of rage and death, killing everyone.

He saw Mariam. His daughter. Everyone.

He got to his feet. He plunged his fist into his own chest, grabbing his still-beating heart, and turned his face to the sky.

"Mariam, I am coming," he said, his voice a broken wreck. "I don't know how I will face you, but this sinner just wants to apologize."

He tried to crush the heart in his hand, to end his own miserable existence.

But his hand was stopped, held in place by an invisible force, and then thrown back.

His hand burned with a black fire.

The voice in his head returned, this time a cold, angry command. 'You forgot the pact we made. This body now belongs to me.'

The rest of the students trembled, watching the scene unfold. They could see the monster returning, the rage coming back, this time more demonic, more evil than before.

Elvara didn't waste a second. She shot a beam of her starlight power, the pure, white energy slamming into the creature.

He took the hit, stumbling back, yet still tried to move towards the figure in front of him. Azrael.

But Azrael stood tall.

A crystal prison, thick and glittering, erupted from the ground, caging the monster. It was Seraphina. He punched the wall, and it cracked.

She put up another cage, and another. Outside the crystal, a wall of black ice formed, created by Selvara, trapping him completely.

He broke through the layers of crystal, his fists bloody stumps. Now, only a thin layer of ice separated him from Azrael.

They were face to face.

"You are doing the same thing again," Azrael said, his voice calm. "I thought you would change. I thought you wouldn't be so pathetic."

"You are still the weak boy who couldn't fight back, who couldn't find the right path," he continued. "Today, you could have had everything. Mariam. Your daughter. Everything that meant the world to you. But your naïveté, your ego, your rage... it took it all away from you. And the one most responsible for it is right inside you. Your inner monster. And yet, you are listening to him, rather than showing him what he has done to you."

He could see the expression on the creature's face changing. The fist was now opening.

"You wanted to know where I got that pendant?" Azrael asked. "The one you gave to Mariam, the one she gave as her most precious thing to her daughter?"

"I got it from the survivor of the havoc you created that evening." He pointed to the old woman, who was no longer hiding, but standing tall, a strange lack of fear in her eyes.

"And she was not the only survivor," he said, the words hitting Eric's heart. "There were two of them. The old woman, and the one she took with her. The one the pendant belonged to. Yes. Your daughter."

Eric's rage was gone, replaced by a desperate, fragile hope.

Azrael pointed his finger to the young woman who had called the old woman inside when the old women was unfolding the story.

The one who had a kind, worried face. Beside her, a man was now standing, his hand on her shoulder.

Eric looked at her, then at Azrael, his gaze a silent, pleading question. 'Are you telling the truth? Is that my daughter?'

Azrael knew what he meant. He nodded. "She is the same. The one you failed to kill."

Eric burst into tears, the sound a raw, broken wail of a man who had lost and found everything in a single moment.

Seeing his pain, Selvara let her ice wall shatter into a shower of glittering dust.

Eric didn't know what to do. The guilt in his eyes was a physical thing.

How could he confront her? How could he show his monstrous face to his own child?

But then, his daughter came forward.

She walked slowly, hesitantly, until she reached him. She took his broken, bloody fist in both of her hands.

"I know," she said, her voice soft and full of a sad understanding. "I know what happened. I know the pain." She did not point or shout. She did not call him a monster or a liar.

She forgave him.

She called him quietly, slowly - "Father."

The sound of that word broke the night open.

Eric's whole body shuddered. He could not speak. He let the word fill him like water.

For a moment, hope and shame locked together in his chest. But the wound was too deep.

The evil he had become was still inside him, and it had eaten too much. The pact in his bones pulled at him like chains.

He looked at his hands one last time. He shook his head.

He could not let his presence hurt them anymore. He had been corrupted.

He could not wear his daughter's forgiveness and still keep the dark thing inside him.

With a small, broken sound, Eric bowed his head. He did not make a speech. He did not ask for mercy. He only said one more time, so soft no one could hear it but himself, "I am sorry."

This time, with a force born from a father's love, he plunged his hand into his own chest and ripped out his heart.

His daughter looked at him, tears streaming down her face. "Father... I wanted to tell you so many things. But you are leaving me too, just like everyone else."

He patted her head, his touch surprisingly gentle. "I need to go. Otherwise, I will commit the same mistakes again." He smiled, a real, human smile. "And I eagerly want to meet your mother. I will tell her that you have grown into a fine woman."

She wiped her tears. "Then tell her this too." She signaled to the young man, who came and stood beside her. "I have a loving husband, just like you, Father." She then touched her belly. "And tell her this too - soon, she will be a grandmother. And Father... you will be a grandfather." She had a happy, tearful smile.

After hearing that, a soft light seemed to glow from within Eric.

He coughed, a wet, rattling sound. "I will," he rasped. "And we will be watching you, and your family." He looked at her husband. "Take care of her. Don't make the same mistakes I did. Give her every happiness in the world. She deserves it."

He looked at his daughter again. "Your mother lied in the diary."

She looked at him, confused.

He smiled. "You look more like your mother, the eyes the hairs and that same cute nose".

His last breath came, a soft rattle. "Take care... my daughter."

"It's Sabrina," she whispered.

His dying voice was a faint whisper. "It was the name... of Mariam's mother. She said if we had a girl... we would name her that."

The last hand to pet her hair came, then it went lifeless, dropping from her head to her face, then to the ground.

All the people who had watched the scene were in tears.