"I know you; I walked with you once upon a dream.

I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.

And I know it's true

That visions are seldom all they seem,

But if I know you,

I know what you'll do; you'll love me at once,

The way you did once upon a dream."

Lana Del Rey- "Once Upon a Dream"

The pain felt agonizing. Rachel found herself shrieking as blood spewed from between her thighs. It pooled on the bare mattress and stained her white chemise. Her body temperature rose, her hair dampening and sticking to her forehead. Her screams echoed in the large, dimly lit room. Rachel didn't know what caused her pain or where she was. She could only smell blood moving thickly through the air. The longer she pushed, the worse it became.

"Don't worry. It'll all be over soon."

In her blurred vision, she spotted herself. At least, someone who resembled her. The doppelganger stood right beside the mattress, staring down at her with emotionless eyes. She wore the same dress also covered in blood. In her arms, she cradled a small blue bundle. Rachel heard no cries or saw reaching fingers. Her child was lifeless, but she held him nevertheless.

"I am you. You are me."

Rachel jolted awake. Her heart drummed in her ears and her dry throat itched. Sheets damp from sweat, Rachel rolled away from James's embrace and sat up in bed. Her mind raced with thoughts of Mrs. March standing over her. Rachel almost felt herself being split in two as the child slowly pushed itself out of her. It'd all felt so real and vivid. Rachel ran her hands through her hair, trying to forget the dead woman repeating her infamous mantra.

"I am you. You are me," she whispered to herself.

Sliding out of the bed, Rachel took in her surroundings. Claudia Bankson's room hadn't been the grandest of them. Her room was as musty and dank as the rest of them. She was sure this disappointed Claudia. Her feet shuffling on the shagged carpet, Rachel looked through Claudia's opened suitcase. The woman certainly didn't fake her wealth. Designer clothes, authentic jewelry, and expensive make-up products told Rachel she took her image seriously. An editor for Vogue magazine needed to keep up appearances. Well, not anymore. Turning around, she faced the bed. James still laid beside the lifeless Claudia, who'd been robbed of her satin nightwear. Rachel shivered as she recalled the previous night. Their souls once again danced to the tune of blood curdling screams. They'd nearly forgotten the dying woman beside them as they came together in eternal bliss. However, it didn't stop James from taking the opportunity.

"Dearest," he opened his eyes and looked at her. She doubted James really needed any rest. It was kind of him to pretend for her. Nothing put her to sleep as good as being in his arms. "Are you alright?"

"Bad dream," she said, moving towards him.

"Hm," he sat up in the bed, pulling himself away from the dead woman. He came to her, pushing a strand of hair from her face, "Well…"

She sensed his awkwardness. She touched his hand, "I'm fine, James."

"I hope it wasn't because of last night. It was your first time alone."

"Not at all," she confirmed. "If anything, it should've given me pleasant dreams." She wouldn't upset him by talking about Joanne again. She kissed him softly, whispering, "I'm sure you enjoyed the show, hm?"

He laughed, "Oh darling, 'enjoyed' is an understatement." He brought her close to him, kissing her deeply. When he broke away, he said, "Now, I can show you the basics of disposal. I won't start with anything too complicated for you. Perhaps points of dismemberment and boiling acid?"

"After my bath," she answered. "Being so sticky bothers me when I wake up."

He sighed, "If you insist, my love."

He certainly didn't mind joining her. Rachel knew James didn't need to eat, sleep or even bathe. However, he insisted upon it anyway. It gave him a routine, he said. It made him feel alive again. Also, if it meant he'd have a chance at seeing her naked, he certainly wouldn't refuse. Rachel continued thinking of the departed Mrs. March. She never made herself known after she'd destroyed the room. It'd only be a matter of time before she did so again.

"About John Lowe…" Rachel started as they shared a warm bath.

"Ah yes," he nodded. He wiped the cloth across her shoulder, pecking his lips where he wiped. "I will arrange something for you, dearest. Then maybe I can show you the little joint project we've been working on."

"Joint project?" she turned to face him, "You mean you're working together?"

"In a way," he said. "You can say I passed the torch over. For now, dearest," he briefly kissed her, "I think I should finish cleaning this gorgeous figure of yours. I'd hate to gloss over any intimate parts."

The two of them laughed as he continued his work. Rachel left the world behind with each kiss and touch. Her terrible dream and the woman in it drowned in his love.

"So that's it? It's over between us?"

Elizabeth sighed heavily. She knew he'd react this way. She'd hoped he'd understand she wasn't marrying Will out of love. She hardly cared for him. She only needed his money. "I never said that," she said. "This is for us. All our money is gone, love. I need more if you want to keep living this way. It's just business."

"He won't like me being around," he said to her. "You'll be his wife. It wouldn't look good if his wife was fucking another man."

"That's why you have to go away," she said. She pressed against him, her hands on his shoulders. She examined his features closely. His straight jawline, his exceptional blue eyes, his soft lips and smooth face were to die for. He reminded her of Rudy. Yet, despite her efforts, Donovan never lived up to him. She touched his jaw, "I can't have you here."

He looked over her face. He grabbed her wrists and pushed her away. "You're getting rid of me," he hissed. "You're throwing me out? I love you," he whispered, "I love you."

"And I love you," she said, "But it isn't our virus that makes you. It isn't who you kill. It isn't who you screw. It's the heartbreaks; the bigger the better. I know better than any of us. I'll let you pack your things."

There was a moment of silence. She turned away from him and lit a cigarette. Her care for him slowly slipped away. She thought of Rachel in that moment. Rachel wouldn't give her as much trouble as Donovan. She agreed with Elizabeth's plan, even though she kept her distance. That could always change, of course. Suddenly, a glass smashed behind her. Donovan turned her roughly, keeping a hold on her arms. "You said when you made me," he lifted her onto the sofa and stood between her legs, "That it was the closest thing you ever had to a spiritual experience. Tell me, you tell me that wasn't true. Tell me that you felt that with that crazy bitch you're so fond of."

She saw the desperation in his eyes. He wanted to keep her so badly. She pitied him. "Rachel," she said, staring right back at him, "Is the most erotic fuck I've ever experienced. Her venom is addicting. I only want more when I'm with her. When we're close to each other, I get lost in the feel of her. You've grown dull and spoiled. She didn't cry when I told her about Will. She might even help me." She pushed him off her.

"If she's around for it," he threatened.

Elizabeth glared at him, "If you're going to make threats, make it to the person's face. If she doesn't kill you, Jimmy will. So would I."

Elizabeth continued looking at him as she went up the stairs. The look of pain on his face reminded her of all the others. She'd broken their hearts. They never broke hers. They can't break something that's already broken. Entering her bedroom, she closed the door on him. Donovan won't be happy with this turn of events. He'll want blood, and he's already set it on someone.

She pitied him even more.

"Oh Miss! I'm terribly sorry you've come back to such a mess! I've already cleaned most of the destruction, but it's taken some effort."

Rachel shouldn't have been surprised. Coming back into her bedroom, wrapped in her satin bathrobe and hair tied back, she spotted the newest attack. Her bed stripped of its sheets, blood pooled in the middle of the mattress. Like her dream, bloody handprints faded along the sides and on the pillowcases. The faint smell of bleach told her Ms. Evers spent some time attempting to clean it. Joanne hadn't written anything this time. Rachel stared down at the spot on her mattress. The image of Joanne in her bloody chemise dress flashed through her head.

"It's alright, Ms. Evers," she said. "Don't bother cleaning it. Have it changed out for a new one instead."

"Yes, Miss," Ms. Evers nodded. "It's not the first time she's left such a mess. The last time she did, the guest vomited and ran out of the room. The stain was glorious, of course. It took me ages to remove it. I personally think she makes the messes for me."

"You do love a good mess," Rachel grinned amused. Then a thought came across her mind. "Were you there?"

"Was I where?"

"When she died," she said. "Were you there when it happened?"

Ms. Evers hesitated, and then said, "I was. It'd happened unexpectedly. One moment we were discussing carpeting for the rooms and then the contractions started. It was too late to take her to a hospital, you see. The child was coming out too quickly. Some workmen helped her into a guest room and placed her on the mattress." Rachel spotted a tear roll from the corner of her eye. "Thankfully, Dr. Montgomery was there. It'd been quite a difficult birth and far more blood than usual. He'd said something about a rupture. It…" she sniffled, "The poor babe. He didn't even take his first breath. He came out purple, bloody and lifeless. Our hearts broke instantly. Mrs. March was already dying, but seeing her dead child drove her over. She passed shortly after the birth. I'd never seen The Master cry before that day."

"She's still here," Rachel gestured towards the bed.

"In spirit, yes," she said. "Though, it's never as good as the real thing." She picked up the laundry basket, "I'll have someone come by to change your mattress, Miss. In the meantime, I'm sure The Master wouldn't mind having you stay in his room."

"No, he wouldn't."

She smiled and dismissed Ms. Evers. Joanne hadn't touched anything else other than the bed. Her laptop, notes, and personal things remained the same. She frowned at the damage. Joanne suffered a terrible death. Running her hand over the blood stains, she imagined Joanne's last living moments. Lying on a bare mattress in an unfinished room, she would've desperately tried searching for him. She'd try hearing for his cries ripping through the air. Instead, she'd heard silence. She must've known. A deep pain tore Rachel's heart thinking of him. She pictured a healthy baby boy. He would've been a miniature James. They'd spend whole days together. Their boy would want for nothing. Tears stung her eyes and a lump fitted her throat. Joanne died knowing it'd been for nothing. Now, she spent eternity trapped within the walls her husband built for her.

Finding suitable clothes for the day, she couldn't shake the feeling. Feeling for others didn't come naturally to Rachel. It took much skill and gritting teeth to fake the empathy. However, thinking of Joanne's pain stirred her own. Joanne wanted a family. She knew an heir would please James. She'd absolutely adored Ms. Ever's boy, but she wished for her own. She died never even seeing him. The longer Rachel dwelled on her nightmare, the clearer the message became.

'I am you. You are me.'

To James, they were one in the same. She supposed she should be upset he didn't see her as only Rachel. Yet, the feeling was unattainable. She loved him no matter who he envisioned. Rachel pulled on her clothes and began her day. She jotted down some questions for John while browsing the internet. She wrote down every source and factoid she discovered of the murders. A majority of it was speculation. John and James would set the record straight with her. The idea of hearing the details from the killer excited her. The books written by or with the killer are the best ones.

Her phone eventually rang, and she answered absentmindedly. "Hello?" she scribbled across the page, planning to mention possible previous murders.

"Rae…" Jeanine's voice stabbed an icicle in her. "It's me."

"I know."

"You haven't been returning my calls."

"Reception in this place is pretty shotty," she said. "Calls come in and out."

"It would've been nice to hear from you. You know, after what happened and everything." Rachel knew this game. She refused to play along. "You said some messed up things and they hurt my-"

"-They hurt your feelings," she finished for her. An article stated the possibility of previous murders. She'd have to ask about those. "I already know your whole spiel. You say that I'm the one who fucked up. You say it's me who should apologize. You'll completely ignore the fact that you're just as much to blame as me. You've been doing it since college, Jeanine. You're always in the right and I'm always wrong. Grow up and start taking some responsibility, and then I might take you seriously."

"You think you can just forget me?" she said. "I made you. You would have never gotten a book deal without me."

"Here we go again," she sighed. "Keep going if it makes you feel better."

"I'm the reason you even had friends in college. All those parties? Yeah, they didn't want you there."

Rachel laughed, "You think I cared? I hated them anyways."

"You know something? Those crazy murders that have been happening there? I wouldn't be surprised if it was you." Rachel heard the implication in her voice. "Yeah, you're definitely capable of something like that. You're crazy and disturbed enough. It'd be a shame if somebody tipped off the police about you. Especially since you already threatened me."

Rachel stifled her laughter, "Really? You're seriously doing this?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Over a small spat? You're threatening me because I hurt your feelings? That's ridiculous even for you."

She felt somebody enter the room. Turning around, she saw Elizabeth already inside. Rachel hadn't even heard her enter. Wearing a Mandarin collared dress of black silk and red embroidery, she was a vision. She smiled at Rachel as she approached her. Rachel nearly forgot about the woman on the other end. Elizabeth took the phone from her and placed it to her ear.

"I'm sorry," she said in a smooth voice, "But Rachel's suddenly become preoccupied with something more interesting. Please hang up and never call back." She hung up the phone with ease. She looked at the bloodstained bed and sighed. "She's done the same to me, you know. It's her way of displaying her pain."

"She wanted you to know she suffered?"

She nodded. "I thought Jimmy killed her at first. I thought she was warning me about him. Instead, she was asserting dominance. It was her way of saying that she was still number one in his heart. Not that I cared anyways, I never loved Jimmy. I married him because I was alone. I think she knows that now. She doesn't come around me as often anymore."

"Is it wrong that I'm not surprised?"

She chuckled, "No. I'm not either. I don't think she's doing that with you though. My bed was in tatters. Here, it looks like-"

"-A birthing bed?"

"Something like that," she said, "But I didn't come here to talk about her. I want to marry Will Drake."

"Yeah, I know," she replied, "You told me."

"But in order for that to happen, I need someone out of the way."

Rachel could only think of one person, "Donovan?"

"He didn't like me marrying Will," she said, "So I kicked him out."

"Then you already got rid of him."

"Oh no, he'll come back," she answered certainly, "And when he does-"

"-You want me to kill him." It wasn't a question.

"If he doesn't try to kill you first…"

"What? Why? What the hell did I do to him?"

"He thinks you stole me from him," she sighed. "Men can be so possessive. It's ridiculous."

Rachel didn't want to tell her the truth. Donovan loved her because she created him. She was his whole world and she'd tossed him out for someone else. Then again, it'd been as James said. She treated lovers like playthings. She grew bored and sent them away. "So he thinks killing me will win you back?"

"No, that it'll hurt me."

"So, you're giving me fair warning then?"

"It'd be killing two birds with one stone," she touched her hand. "Getting rid of him before he ruins things is the best plan right now."

Rachel knew exactly what she was doing. She wasn't sure if she was okay doing other people's dirty work. Elizabeth must've killed several people in her lifetime. She didn't understand why Donovan would be such an issue. Will Drake shouldn't be a problem either, so why was she coming to Rachel? Rachel looked over her face. No matter how many times they met, she couldn't forget her beauty. She understood why James chose her. She knew why she chose her. "If it happens, it happens," she said. "I think he'll be too heartbroken to show his face for a while, but if he does come, I'll make sure he doesn't even get passed the lobby."

Elizabeth smiled and kissed her.