"Did you kill him, Lorelei?"
Silvia seemed to lean even closer, almost as if she meant to devour her. Lorelei could feel the emotions pouring off her, yet Silvia's face stayed calm and composed.
"Answer me."
Her tone was nothing like the one she'd used a few minutes earlier. She seemed like a whole other person—Lorelei could no longer find the Silvia who had taken care of her.
"No… I don't know who he is."
Silvia turned and pulled a cloth-wrapped pair of glasses from her pocket, holding them out to Lorelei. Lorelei's eyes widened. They were the same glasses the merchant in town had worn.
"So I can tell from your expression that you were lying to me, weren't you? How—and why—did you kill him?"
Silvia stood up from the bed, startling Lorelei. She began pacing back and forth while Lorelei tried to make herself small with guilt on the mattress.
"Did you kill him with your so-called power? When they found his body, there was no sign of a struggle, no internal wounds. At first they told me it was heart failure—but that couldn't be, because there was no swelling in his legs or belly. His body was just like the ones in the massacre. Completely clean, completely untouched. I may not look it, but I know quite a lot about what you are. At first I wanted to believe you were just a helpless little girl who'd run away from the forest. But as the weeks went by, I started to notice something. You never take that glove off. Even so, I still believe you, Lorelei. Despite everything, I still believe you. So take your hand out of that glove, and give me your hand."
Silvia walked toward Lorelei, turning her head to stare right into her eyes. Lorelei couldn't move. She didn't know if it was fear or guilt. Since Silvia had shown her that family photograph, she'd known who the man was—and she'd kept acting as if she knew nothing. She'd hidden from them the truth they had every right to know. She'd hidden from Maria the death of her father. She'd hidden from Silvia the death of her husband.
"Please, Lorelei. Do it. Let me believe in you."
"I… I killed him."
Silvia took a few steps back, then stood looking at the ceiling.
"I see…"
She walked out of the room, leaving the door half-open. Lorelei was too frightened even to get up and close it. She stayed on the bed with her eyes shut. The moment she closed them, the memory of the merchant came back—his expression after he'd dropped to the ground in front of his carriage. But the expression seemed distorted, slowly spiraling in a circle, dragging the world around it into the spiral until Lorelei was utterly absorbed.
Just then, she opened her eyes. She looked toward the door and saw Silvia standing over the bed, her right hand hidden behind her arm. She was smiling.
"Dear, oh dear. Did you have a bad dream? I only left for a few minutes. It's all right… I'm here now. Everything will be fine."
Silvia raised her right hand high, revealing what she'd been holding—the big knife she used to slice cabbage into thin pieces. She turned it, exposing the blade to Lorelei, who saw her own reflection in the steel. Then Silvia struck at her in one quick motion.
At that exact moment, the world seemed to slow. Lorelei couldn't recognize Silvia anymore; she didn't even know if the person in front of her was still the woman she'd once known. Before she could process another thought, her body leapt for the ground on instinct, and she rolled from the impact. Looking up, she saw Silvia walking slowly toward her, the knife still in hand. Lorelei scrambled up and ran for the door.
"Dear, oh dear. Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
When she glanced back, Silvia was stepping out of the room and breaking into a run. Startled, Lorelei didn't see the stairs and tumbled down to the first floor.
"It must hurt. Stay there—let me tend your wounds."
Silvia came down the staircase slowly, each step making Lorelei's heart pound harder. She could feel blood rushing through every part of her body, and yet she couldn't move an inch. Silvia reached her and tried to drive the knife into her chest. Lorelei forced herself to move, catching the blade in her palm. The sharp edges cut into her fingers, and blood dripped from her hand. Silvia leaned her weight onto the handle, pushing harder toward Lorelei's chest. The knife sank lower, and Lorelei's arm began to give out. She felt the blade graze her skin before she kicked Silvia away. Lorelei scrambled up, seized the knife from Silvia's hand, and after a fierce struggle ended on top of her.
Silvia was still smiling.
"Darling. Let me help you now. You've done enough for me."
She took the blade in both hands and lowered it to her own throat. Seeing Silvia so helpless, Lorelei wanted to let go—but something had hold of her. A deep, inexplicable anger. An uncontrollable ecstasy. She raised the knife and drove it into Silvia's chest. She raised it again and struck once more. Again and again she stabbed. Silvia gently lifted a trembling hand and caressed Lorelei's cheek.
"See? I'm helpful, aren't I?"
Silvia had already lost herself entirely. Until the very end, what she saw before her was probably never Lorelei. Lorelei stabbed her once more, and Silvia's hand dropped to the ground. Her hair tie came loose as the blood spread across the floor, and her hair fanned out through the puddle like roots burying themselves in the earth. For some reason Lorelei kept stabbing until a voice came from upstairs.
"Mom? Lorelei? What's all this noise?"
It was Maria, still half-asleep, rubbing her eyes on the way down. Lorelei pulled the knife from Silvia's body and stared at her—until Maria stopped rubbing her eyes and looked.
"Lorelei? What are you doing? Why are you all red? What is this?"
Lorelei rose from Silvia's body, the knife still in hand. Maria ran to her but stopped short of her mother's body, then dropped to the ground beside it.
"Mom! Mom! Wake up!"
She shook Silvia back and forth, willing her to wake, then turned her gaze on Lorelei, who was staring at the floor.
"Tell me this is a joke, won't you? Please. Lorelei, please! Tell me this is a joke. This must…"
She began to cry, clutching Silvia in her arms.
"Lorelei! Why? Why? We helped you, didn't we? So why…"
It was the first time Lorelei had ever seen Maria cry like this. She was always bright, always happy—but this wasn't the same Maria. All Lorelei could do was watch her from where she stood. Maria let Silvia go and got up.
"We're friends, aren't we? What did Mother ever do to you? Why is this world so cruel… Does being kind to one another come with a punishment now?! TELL ME, LORELEI!"
Maria raised her fist and hit Lorelei across the face. Lorelei tried to defend herself, but it was useless—Maria kept striking, leaving her no time to breathe. Lorelei lost her grip on the knife, and Maria grabbed it. Lorelei backed away, but Maria rushed her, shoving her to the ground. She climbed on top of her, took the knife in both hands, and swung—an attack Lorelei barely dodged, sacrificing her hand. With the knife lodged in her hand, she used the opening to twist and throw Maria off against the wall. When she got up, she kicked Maria into the wall and seized the knife from her arm with her mouth. She lunged, blade angling toward Maria's thigh, and drove it home. Maria cried out, clutching her leg and groaning.
Lorelei retrieved the knife. That same ecstasy swept over her again, and her vision warped. What she saw before her was no longer Maria—it was someone trying to kill her. So she didn't hold back. She stabbed the figure again and again until her sight returned. When it did, beneath her was a bloody, unrecognizable mess. She rose from what had once been Maria and walked toward the staircase, her clothes drenched in blood. Each step rang a ticking sound in her mind, growing louder and louder until she couldn't bear it and beat her head against the wall to make it stop. She kept doing that until she reached the bathroom, the knife still in her hand, and stared at herself in the mirror.
She saw her reflection—and immediately knew it wasn't her. It was the same reflection she'd seen back at the river. It held a blood-covered knife, just as she did. Her hair had lost its metallic silver sheen and was now dyed a plain red. The clothes Silvia had given her were soaked in the blood of both mother and daughter. As she stared, it spoke.
"I told you, didn't I? You're a murderer. A sinner. A devil of a kind—but that's what I am, too. I've always been watching you, Lorelei. I will always be watching you. We are one and the same. Didn't killing them bring you satisfaction? Didn't you feel it? The thrill of piercing their flesh. The excitement surging through your body. You felt it, didn't you? That alone proves you truly are a monster—but once again, that is what I am. Think of me as your ally. I will guide you through the hell that awaits us. Until both of our objectives are accomplished… and then I shall grant you an end befitting an angel. Come to me Lorelei. Stab yourself and come to me."
The figure vanished, leaving Lorelei staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes had darkened, as if their color had changed—the once fiery, brown, sparkling eyes now flat and gray. She rinsed her hands and the knife and walked back downstairs, then hid the bodies in the back room where the cabbages were stored. She bowed. For some reason, she felt no hatred toward herself, no guilt for what she'd done—only amusement. The feeling of stabbing through their flesh, the sight of the light slowly dying in their eyes, was mesmerizing. For the first time since she'd willingly killed someone, she felt nothing but excitement and thrill.