"O-kun! I'm coming over to play." The child sang.

His small feet lightly tread over the grass, still damp from the morning dew. A thick patch of forestry provided the only separation between the two large estates. The boy pushed his way through trees and bushes until he came upon the stone house only a fifteen minutes' walk from his own. He skipped up the steps and knocked on the back door, but there was no answer.

"O-kun?" He called.

Silence. Frowning slightly, the boy jogged around the area looking for his friend. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a little wooden shed sitting near the forest, carefully hidden behind some foliage. Curiosity got the best of him and the boy went over to examine it.

With a slight touch, the door creaked open on its rusty hinges. The child warily stepped in and reached for the light. As the room illuminated, his eyes opened in shock.

Pictures of his sister lined every wall and crevice of the room. There were photos of her playing in the trees, skipping back home, laughing, smiling, engaging in conversation, having fun, crying, and sleeping. The boy himself was in several of them. A small digital camera hung in the corner.

Shaking, the boy walked over and lifted the camera. Etched into the strap was the name of his best friend. Horror slowly spread across his face as realization struck him. Tottering back a few steps, the boy fell out of the shed and sprinted back to his house at full speed.


She avoids me everywhere with an awkward and flustered expression on her face. She's bad at it, too. I constantly catch her ducking behind walls or attempting to dissolve into the crowd. A game of cat and mouse would have interested me, if she wasn't hiding with a British insect.

He enjoys spending time with her very deliberately when he senses my presence. The vermin goes out of his way to touch her, help her, and get close to her. My chest tightens in rage as I watch them from afar.

This has gone on far too long. I spare them one last glance before heading back home to pick out some knives.

Blinding light envelopes the basement as I flick a switch. Numerous chains, weapons, and chairs bolted to the ground litter the area. On a particularly large wall, a wide array of knives hangs in the center. To its right, a collection of pistols and shotguns. To its left, an assortment of maces and clubs.

My hand closes around the hilt of a knife with a curved, jagged blade perfect for carving out body parts. There is no sheath, so I simply slip it into my shirt, not noticing as it cuts my skin ever so slightly as I walk. A bead of blood trickles down my chest and seeps into the top of my jeans. Soon, I would be spilling a lot more than a drop.

Luckily, the demon is walking back to my house hand in hand with her. I suppress my mixed emotions of excitement and anger and duck behind a pillar to welcome them.

"Thanks for walking me back, Oliver-kun!" She beams at him and releases his hand.

"Of course. Your safety is my biggest concern!" The twat replies.

He waits until she opens the door and enters the house before sighing and turning away. I silently follow him down the path and through the bushes until I reach an isolated spot in a small clearing.

He stops.

"Come out."

I grin. He was speaking to the wrong location.

I slip out from the shadows and stand behind him. He glances around and jumps a bit when he registers me. Faltering back, he quickly regains his composure and glares me down. I give a light chuckle at his idiocy.

"How close you seem to be with my beloved. I'm truly, truly envious." I say.

The corner of his lip twitches. "Good. I'm only getting started."

"Me too."

I yank the knife out from my clothes and slash at him, pushing him to the ground. I pin him in place and hold the blade so close to his neck that blood dribbles out and stains the silvery metal. His eye widens in fear and he gulps, only to have more blood spill out.

"Whatever crap you're trying to accomplish, stop now before I skin you alive." I spit out.

He breathes and responds, despite the steady flow of rouge streaming from the intersection between my knife and his skin. "Never. I will have my vengeance on you, no matter the cost."

"What a stupid child. Do you honestly think you can harm me? I could kill you now if I wanted." I snarl back.

His face stretches into a grotesque smile. "Oh but you won't. Why? Because she's still alive. And if you kill me, she's going to be tortured beyond insanity. I guarantee it. Go ahead and try. I dare you. I dare you! Kill me!"

A gold pendant gleams around his neck. Hanging from it is a locket with a music note intricately engraved into it. It can't be. He follows my glance and starts to laugh.

"Bring back any memories? She gave me this. Willingly, maybe not." He gloats.

I clench my jaw. "Where did you get that?"

"Need more proof?" He reaches into his jacket and flings an endless amount of photos into the air.

They swirl and land all over the place. Her face is in each one, scrunched in pain but alive. She's older than when I last saw her, her body matured and feminine. Covered in marks and crying, but very clearly alive.

Alive. My face pales and I fight back the tremors taking hold of my body. Alive? That's impossible. She's dead. I saw her. Cold and ashen on the ground with blood pooling around her. I saw her. The blond hair I once tried to braid tangled and matted with gore. He's lying. The bastard. He's lying to take advantage of me. I don't believe him. I don't believe him. I don't believe him. I..I…Who is he? How does he know? What is he?

My hand tightens despite my trembling limbs. He notices. A wave of panic washes over me and I can't control the tears slipping out of my sockets. No…no…stop. I don't want this. Please…stop. I hate this. His laughter escalates. Now he is gasping for air, shaking and snickering with glee.

"Kill me! Kill me! I'd like to see you try, you coward! You're a coward! Nothing but a pathetic coward hiding behind his fetishes!" He chokes out between pants.

The blood is everywhere. It mercilessly pours from his neck as he scrapes against the blade I shakily hold there. Blood from the cuts on my chest stain the white shirt I'm wearing. Blood. Her blood. Her blood fills my mind as I'm painfully struck by flashbacks.

I glace at the pictures. An odd pain erupts in my chest. She was supposed to be dead. A kitchen knife in her hand, a crumpled note in the other. Stab wounds painted her stomach. I screamed when I saw her. I wept uncontrollably for days. How could she do this? The blood wouldn't go away. It wouldn't go away no matter how much I scrubbed and washed. Every time I opened my eyes, the blood would be all over the place.

The only way to get rid of her blood was to replace it with someone else's. My list of victims grew.

Why? Why? Why is this happening? Why is this boy mocking me? Why am I so upset? Why is she alive? How? How is this happening? My breath comes out in uneven wheezes.

"I can't believe you're this shaken! You're such a weak little boy, Len. This will be easier than I thought. Why don't you come home with me? Let's play. The three of us. Let's play, Len!" He shrieks.

"Come on, Len! Let's play." She calls. Her small figure dashes through the trees, a boy with feathery hair and a foreign school uniform follows. I follow them as fast as I can on my short legs.

The girl turns and takes our hands, smiling as bright as the sun. The three of us skip along the grass as the sun shines on our heads. What game would we play today? Yesterday it was tag. Today, maybe hide and seek. Whatever it was, we would have fun.

Her strides quicken and I fall behind. "Wait up, onee-chan!"

She innocently giggles, blue eyes lighting up with childish happiness. The boy next to me watches her with fervent admiration in his eyes. He blushes and clutches her hand tighter. I frown slightly but flit back to her side.

I want to be with my sister forever.

No…NO! I yell and raise the knife. Make it stop. My arm muscles tense. Make him stop. I send the blade flying through the air. A small, white hand stops it before it can slice his neck in half.

Blood explodes from the hand and hits my face with sickening warmth. A deep cut lies across its palm, so deep I might have hit bone. The dark liquid continuously pours like an abyss opened in the flesh. The small hand trembles and falls to the ground.

I look over into her eyes, corrupted with intensifying pain. She makes a strangled cry of agony as her eyes fill with clear fluid. My knife clatters to the ground. He stares at her as well, with horror and confusion. She closes and opens her eyes, sucking in air.

"Stop it." She whimpers. I don't know which one of us she is talking to. Maybe me. Maybe him. Probably both.

He springs into action. "Are you okay?! Oh my goodness! Rin-nee! Rin-nee!"

With a swift rip, he tears off the hem of his shirt and tightly bounds it over her hand. He ties it like a tourniquet and dabs away some of the blood with his jacket.

He glowers at me and is about to jump on me, but she cuts him off. "Please leave us alone, Oliver-kun."

A troubled expression crosses his face, but he reluctantly stands and walks away. From the corner of my eye, I see him getting into a car while a butler fusses over him. They drive off, but this fight is clearly not over.

My body feels numb. I can't move. I can't stop shivering. I feel so cold. I feel so miserable. What did that child do to me? The chills are overpowering and I weakly cry out. She pulls me into her arms and warmth from her body flows into me.

I long for more of that warmth and bury my face into her shoulder. Without sound, she continues to stroke my back with her unharmed hand until I stop quaking. I'm so delirious on her heat that I don't even feel embarrassed by my feebleness. Please don't go. Can we stay like this for another year? Please.

She moves and I desperately grab to hold onto her. She returns my grasps and shifts me onto her back, supporting me while we stand. I lean on her the entire walk back to the house, savoring the warmth for as long as I can.

Everything is a blur as we enter the living room. A swirl of faces and lights overwhelm me and I collapse.