She sat there on the bed the moonlight splashing off her bare back, her blond hair floating around her shoulders. She was beautiful. But when she turned around the black-haired girl couldn't help but shudder. Her eyes were wide and malevolent and she was grinning her pointy teeth bared. Her spider-like fingers crawled up her sister's skin and she stood up and left, leaving the green puff shivering under the covers.
Something was wrong with her. Dreadfully wrong. Buttercup would bang her up against the wall and scream in her face, "what the fuck is up with you, Bubbles?" Then she would stare, half fascinated, half terrified as she watched her sister slowly lick her lips and her arms would rest on the black-haired girl's neck.
"Oh nothing is wrong, my dear sister. I feel completely fine," and she would giggle softly, her lips brushing against her sister's ear.
Bubbles disgusted her. Her sweet, innocent sister made her feel sick to the stomach. Looking at her pale, naked body in the middle of the night was both beautiful and sickening. Her small little grin and cunning eyes caught her off guard every time.
Why had she suddenly become so…evil? Suddenly as disgusting as a cockroach crawling over a dead person's face? When?
Why was she targeting her black-haired sister? Not anyone else but her? Buttercup heard her one day talking to Blossom. Her voice was as sweet and innocent as always. She was saying in a shaking voice, "she scares me Blossom. The way she looks at me…she's like an animal. I…I don't know where my sister's gone."
She heard Blossom's voice say, "I'll always protect you, Bubbles. I won't let her hurt you."
People who used to look at her with respect started to glare and walk away whispering. People pointed, people talked snidely about her, not bothering to see if she could here. Blossom never looked her in the eyes anymore. Just ignored her.
When she was in bed her blond sister's words whispered out to her in the dark, "come over here dear sister. Come over here and make me happy. I know you want to. I know you need me," her awful giggle would float out in the dark. "Touch me sister. I want you to touch me…your so good at it. Oh please sister…"
Buttercup tried so hard to ignore the mad laughter, the freezing cold, the whispers in her head. She always failed. Every time she ended up in her sister's warm arms. Every time she would end up losing control and letting her desires take hold.
Every time the sniggering would drive her into a frenzy. She tried so hard to wipe that evil smirk off her face. Tried so hard to make her scream. Tried to make her cry. Tried to bring her down in the mud where her black-haired sister wallowed in.
Years afterwards in the padded cell, confined all alone Buttercup would shake terribly.
Because she was never alone. Her sister would always be there pointing and laughing at her black-haired sister. Laughing at her poor insane slave sadistically.
Why…why…will she ever leave me alone? Will…will she ever just leave me here to die in peace? To let me rot away in this cell?
Of course…the answer was no. She'd never be free of her. Buttercup would be her stupid, little slave for evermore.