“They say you killed her.” 

“I didn’t. She was my sister! How could I ever do such a thing?” 

“They say you treated her as your lover.” 

“Well, that’s silly – why couldn’t she have been both?” 

The man interrogating me, Arthur, scoffs, a look akin to disbelief on his face. 

“How could you say such things, Fletcher? That’s an act of blasphemy in its own right, not even putting into thought what I’m accusing you of.” 

It’s my turn to sneer, hatred flooding my veins with fire so hot I nearly cry at its intensity. I may have loved her, and I may have killed her, but there was no way in which anyone was supposed to find out. It was, dare I say, the perfect crime.  

The man speaks again, this time with a dangerous sort of lilt to his voice. “I loved Eveline as much as your family did, but we both know I’m not doing this for her. What did you do to Jacob- why did you frame my nephew?” 

Jacob hadn’t always been my enemy. But now, his name alone makes me seethe in pure rage. I’m taken back to the grotesque look of horror on his face, the way his blood smelled so disgusting compared to hers. How, before he died, he cried for his lover. The way he didn’t even scream when I slit his neck open and watched it gush.  

“I did nothing to him, although he certainly wished to do something undoubtedly sinister to me. That man’s hatred for me was more pungent than the smell of wine in this cellar.”  

Indignation flares over Arthur’s features as he gets ready to speak – or rather yell – but no words come out. He shuts his mouth, grinding his teeth together as he stands up, walking over to the seat I’m imprisoned upon. His plump finger finds its way between my eyes as his voice once again makes itself known, this time with a sort of vicious quiet that fills the room with thunder. 

“You can fool them all Fletcher, but you can’t fool me. I am not the idiot you assume I am. I know you killed them both, and I know you made it look like Jacob killed her before doing the same to himself. I know you loved your sister in some twisted, unnatural way, and when you couldn’t keep her to yourself, you took her out altogether.” As he pauses for a breath, something makes its way behind his eyes, alighting them with a flame bright enough to burn a town to ashes. “But don’t you worry, Fletcher. When you join them both in the afterlife, you will find your eternal paradise to be replaced with the burning hell you wished for Jacob. This world you are in now – this life – will be the only taste you will ever get to any form of heaven. And when you die, no one will honor your name; no one will sing your praises or wish you well in what comes after. Your legacy will forever be overshadowed by the wrongs in which you can never right.”  

I glower at him, his words leaving a searing brand in my mind. They course under my skin, leaving bitterness in the place where meat and blood should be. This isn’t fair, not at all. 

I never wanted to hurt Eveline. In fact, the day of her death was supposed to be the day of her revelation, the day she would start a new life without that wretched man. I told her how dirty of a man Jacob was, how he would only make her miserable. On that day, I finally revealed my love for her. Yet she denounced me and my devotion, calling me sick. She said she never wanted to see my face again- that I was a horrible monster. Now, I simply couldn’t have that, so in a fit of rage I grabbed a nearby tome and slammed it over her skull. I try not to remember the way she crumpled to the ground, the sound she made when she hit the floor. 

I only wanted things to be like they once were. When me and Eveline were children, I was her world. She never let me be, and eventually I began to enjoy more than just her friendship. But when we got older, she stopped spending time with me. I gave her the freedom to make friends, but I hadn’t realized just how much I had permitted her to do. When she came to the house with Jacob on her arm, his grin sweet to everyone but me, I nearly killed him then and there. But I was weak, and I know it is my fault that their love grew. I allowed her to have too much freedom, and now I’m suffering the consequences. 

Arthur turns around, headed for the door. At first, I stare, confused, before realizing he plans to leave me here to rot. Immediately I begin to pull against my bonds, a strange mania consuming me. Desperation leads to the next words I speak – anything to escape, even if all I plan to do is end it myself. 

“Before he died, Jacob cried for Eveline. He cried for all they had, and all they now couldn’t. When I slid that blade against his neck, he didn’t seem to care- no screams, no cries for help. He welcomed it. He wanted to die. After all, what’s a dog without his bitch?” 

My tone is dripping with venom, and I watch in satisfaction as it infects my kidnapper’s body like a disease. Arthur stalls, his hand never touching the doorknob. I see him shaking, as if holding back tears, until he finally spins around, the look of a wild beast within his gaze. His steps are quiet and filled with what I can only describe as grief and suppressed fury mixed into a deadly cocktail of human emotion potent enough to kill a man. If I could compare Arthur to one thing in this moment, it would be a man on fire with nothing to lose and everything to gain. 

“I was going to let you rot in this cellar, Fletcher. I was going to give you mercy – you were like a son to me; I couldn’t bear doing much else. But now? You are simply begging me to hand you the death you deserve. It seems you just don’t understand when to stop, do you?” 

He pulls a small, rusted dagger from his pocket, and I smile a toothy grin as I deal the final blow.  

“Of course not- if I could, Eveline would still be here. Though I will say, it’s within my beliefs that Jacob was always destined to die by my hands. Have you ever heard the sounds a man makes when he’s watching himself bleed out? It’s marvelous.” 

Immediately, the man lunges, dagger poised for my heart. I lean to the left, letting the weapon graze my arm while also cutting through my bonds. They fall away from my body, leaving me free to fight back. He jumps at me once again, but this time I grab the wrist that holds his dagger and twists it, causing him to cry out in pain and drop it. Without any flourish or grandiose, I grab the dagger and promptly stuff it in the man’s neck. Immediately he begins making a gurgling sound, blood spewing down his body like a fountain. He falls to the ground, producing a loud thud. A smile once again finds its way to my mouth as I see the man begin to cry, not so silent tears joining the sea of red pooling underneath him. 

“You have failed. No one will know it was me- they may think it was, but they’ll never be able to confirm it. You, sir, were the last to know the truth. And you died before you could tell it.” 

He begins writhing on the ground, but the movement only causes the dagger to lodge itself deeper into his throat. I watch with queer fascination as he eventually slows to a stop, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling, drops of clear liquid clinging to his eyelashes. A calm washes over me when he finally stops, knowing my secret is indefinitely safe. But I know there isn’t any point in staying here. They will somehow know it’s me who killed him, and they will hunt me for it. The only way to keep my honor is to cut off the problem from the source. Knowing this, I take the dagger out of Arthur’s throat and put it to my own, a giddy ebullience bubbling throughout my body. 

“I can’t wait to see you, my sweet Eveline.”