Greta Hayes didn't know how to feel.
In life, she had loved her older brother. Billy Hayes had been a good person, but somewhere down the line he taken the wrong path. Looking back on it, Greta could see how it had happened, how the sword had slowly poisoned his mind. She wished she could have seen the signs when they appeared.
Greta remembered Billy how had read her before bed since she'd been old enough to ask him, but it was only when she turned nine that a certain sword began to make an appearance. The Sword of Beowulf, something Billy had lost sleep over since first becoming enthralled.
He had dreamt of nothing but the sword, knowing he needed innocence and purity to use its power.
But, when Greta and Billy's parents died, a part of his innocence had joined them. Billy had gotten angry, had become withdrawn. Greta's brother was hell-bent on gaining the sword, and now that he had the responsibility of raising his younger sister, Billy was losing his chance. He was growing up.
"I cannot be pure," he had told her. It had hurt Greta to see him that way- so lost and broken.
"Yes you can!" she'd told him, wrapping her arms around her older brother. "You'll find a way to be pure, Billy. I know you will!"
Greta had believed in him. Greta had trusted him. If she hadn't been wrapped around his side, Greta might have seen the almost insane smile that crossed his face as he realised how to become pure. Was it her fault that her brother had become Harm? Greta Hayes had been innocent too, how could she have known that that would trigger his madness?
His obsession had been too complex for her to fully grasp in her time amongst the living. It was buried so deep inside of him that not even Greta could find it. She imagined it would have been like staring down into the deepest corner of the ocean and hoping to see the bottom. Then again, Greta had never been to the ocean, and never would. She couldn't allow herself to think on that however, else she would become even more attached to a world she could no longer be a part of.
She wasn't Greta anymore, she was Secret and Secret was her. It was all she remembered how to say- a word burnt into her eyes and into her soul. Billy Hayes had died the same night Greta had. He was Harm now.
A small part of her hoped that he could be saved. A part of her wished that when he next found himself in a position to take another life, he would choose not to. Greta wanted to be there to see it, so she followed him. At first she was a breath of wind, then a shadow across the wall, following him wherever he went.
As Harm got stronger, so too did Secret.
When Harm thought he was ready, he went after the sword. Secret was ashamed of herself, because despite her desperate tries to get the sword away from him, Harm managed to get it. Secret had felt the sting of his words when Harm had explained his philosophy to the man in the museum. Pure of heart, and pure evil.
That night was a special one, and Harm seemed to know it.
To him it meant greater power came from the sword. After all, it was one of the best nights for users of the mystic arts. To Secret, it was something else entirely.
The barrier between the world of the dead and the world of the living was torn, and Secret found that if she concentrated hard enough, she take a form mirroring her appearance on the night of her death. She could be seen, perhaps even heard. That didn't stop her from hiding while Harm looked for prey.
He had looked for worthy opponents from the shadows, and she had watched, horrified, as he singled out his targets. The girl with arrows and the girl who spoke backwards didn't stand much of a chance against Harm. Secret didn't want to see any more deaths, so she drew them away.
She led them to the one place she could always get to- her home. The centre of her being, the one place Secret might stand a chance against someone as powerful as Harm. She hadn't been able to save herself, but maybe she could help the two girls.
And now they were running through the dak house, having escaped the rooms Harm put them in with a little more help. She hadn't meant for them to get caught, and the green-dressed girl was still angry at her.
She wished she had the words to explain.
Secret led the girl's outside, to her place of unrest. It was her grave- her simple looking grave with its' wooden headstone. Nearby, the little vase of flowers sat. Black haired, backwards-speaking girl understood, seemed to pity Secret. The blonde girl in green seemed shocked.
'H-How did you die?' the dark haired girl asked.
Secret frowned, not understanding the question. She stared at her hand, summoning an image of Harm's dagger. It had been something she'd never seen until the night Billy had come home looking excited- the night she had died.
'Harm's dagger,' the blonde girl said.
That was the answer, wasn't it? After all, it was the dagger that had killed her. Then again, maybe she should have summoned an image of Harm, since he was the one who had wielded it.
There was a bang and a crackle of energy, breaking the unearthly silence in night had bestowed. Harm had endured the explosion, just as Secret knew he would. She was only visible to the two girls, but that didn't stop her from sinking down into the damp earth.
'They defile Harm's holy place,' Secret heard Harm hiss. His voice should have been muffled, but Secret heard him clearly. She imagined him stalking towards the girls and a flash of anger ran through her. There was nothing holy about the backyard, as her spirit seemed to know.
'We defile it?!' That was definitely the green girl. She seemed to have a temper rivalling Harm's. 'You did this! To your own sister!' There was a pause and Secret closed her eyes, waiting for Harm's response. This was his chance, his last chance. 'You're proud of it?' Secret squeezed her eyes shut a little tighter. 'And you had the gall to write "beloved"!' Her voice was harsh and fierce.
'Not gall, truth,' Secret heard Harm say. 'She was the only thing Harm ever loved. That's why she had to go. Harm's heart had to be pure. Greta had to be cut out- excised like an infection.'
Any lingering doubts on her purpose faded as Secret rose from her grave. She glowed silver and bright; making sure Harm could see her. Recognition and shock flashed in Harm's eyes. Maybe he was remembering how she had looked that night- Secret had been wearing the white, poncho-like hoodie she always wore to bed, along with grey leggings and white ugg-boots. Maybe Harm was looking at the little silver pendant that she had never taken off since he gave it to her.
Secret stared at Harm with an air of dead calm, though her eyes burned into his. She was indifferent to his fate now.
'Ah, it casts another illusion spell.' Harm said, as the flash of fear wiped clean from his face.
'Except I didn't speak,' the black haired girl replied. 'Harm knows it can't cast a spell without speaking.'
Harm gasped in fear or in shock, though Secret no longer cared which. She was already halfway toward him.
'You asked how we found this place?' the other one added sharply. 'Face it, Harm, your secret's out.'
'No!' Harm was frightened now, Secret could clearly see it. Was he feeling remorseful? She didn't know, but she saw the weakness in his soul as clearly as the scars on his face. They were still red, and Secret was glad that she had made a mark on him. It had been Secret's last effort to try and get away from him. Did he think of her when he saw those scars? Did he see the fear in her eyes, the way she saw it in his? 'Harm's heart is pure! Harm's not sorry! I'm not!'
Secret stared right into Harm's eyes, walking straight through the sword he held out in front of him. Her form became more transparent, glowing a little brighter. Secret kept her eyes on his face, as she softly reached into his chest and to his pure heart. She wanted to see the look in his eyes, the way he had seen the look in hers.
Secret pulled it out.
Just like he had. He had broken her heart, broken the bond between in one short blow. She would settle for this.
He gasped in pain, and she glared at the light in her palm. The power, the hate, the anger and the evil. Harm fell to the ground, and Secret held the heart in her hand until he got up and looked at it. Secret extinguished the light, taking her brother's power and claiming compensation for her death.
If she could have spoken a word other than the one that had shone through the darkness on the last second of her life, Secret would have told him that she wasn't sorry either…
…Because he wasn't pure enough.