Blood drips from the scalpel clenched within her palm as Ana stares at the deep red liquid slowly pooling around her feet. 

The room is dark. 

Too dark for her to see her reflection, but she knows it's there. She can feel her own empty gaze staring back up at her through the shadowy outline of her bloodied face.

She touches the skin of her cheek, watching the vague shadow mimic the motion in the puddle. Nothing hurts.

It should hurt.

She wipes the blood from her mouth and turns her gaze away from the dark, viscous liquid staining the edges of her hiking boots.

Medical instruments and broken idols lie scattered across the room. The stone beds have had their canvas sheets stripped and thrown to the floor, bloodied and torn beyond repair. 

Ana takes a step further into the puddle. The dark liquid slowly closes the gaps on the messy stone floor left behind by her shoes. 

It’s already beginning to coagulate. 

Something glints in the torchlight to her right. Ana turns to see two familiar sets of chains dangling from the cave ceiling. She absentmindedly runs her fingers across the smooth skin of her wrist. It used to hurt.

She glances down at the bloodied fingerprints she’d left behind. Her wrist is completely unharmed. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

Ana ignores the broken mirror secured to the opposite wall and turns her gaze to the woman’s corpse just two feet away from the tips of her boots.

The body is covered in thin cuts and tears from the scalpel clenched in Ana’s right hand. Her chopped, dark red hair is matted against her face and her bright, red eyes… in the dim torchlight, they look black. Soulless.

Just like the blood slowly draining from the gaping wound at the base of her neck.

The scalpel slips from Ana’s hand and lands in the puddle with a quiet plop. 

A tiny amount of blood spatter hits the top of her boot. The corners of her lips twitch down. She can’t see it.

It blends right in.

Something clatters to the floor behind her. She blinks and slowly turns towards the sound to see her boyfriend staring back at her with wide, terrified eyes.

Ana glances down at the blood covering her clothes so thoroughly that it's hard to tell what colours they’re really supposed to be. She absentmindedly runs her fingers over the bloodied, flower-shaped locket hanging from her neck.

She’ll need to get that cleaned, won’t she?

Where was the river again?

“Annie…?”

Blake’s voice is muffled and meek—shaking from more than the cuts and tears covering his own body. He’s covering his mouth with both hands and staring…

Ah.

He's seen the body.

Ana’s heart distantly thumps beneath her sweater. 

She touches her chest and lets her fingertips feel the beat. It’s fast—too fast, as if the adrenaline from the fight is still desperately pumping through her veins. It probably is.

Ana drops her hand.

She feels numb.

“What have you done…?” Blake asks in a trembling voice, the fear in his tone so palpable that she can taste it in the air.

She smiles and crinkles her eyes to reassure him that everything is okay. Because he’s safe now.

And that’s all that matters. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

Three weeks ago…

Ana watches through the old, time-worn doorframe of her brother’s room as he packs the last of his belongings into the old suitcase lying near the edge of his sofa bed. The contents are barely enough to fill up the bag.

“You ready?” Ana asks in a gentle voice—Allen jumps and spins around with wide eyes.

He deflates once he makes eye contact with his sister and presses his hand against his heart, “You scared me.”

Ana smiles.

“Sorry,” she replies with a chuckle before gesturing down the hall towards the door, “Blake’s just sent me a text—they’re outside.”

“Already?” Allen asks—zipping the old suitcase shut and standing it upright on the floor. He extends the handle and clicks it into place—he pauses, “Is Helen…?”

“Passed out on the sofa,” Ana sighs, pushing herself off the door jam, “As usual.”

Allen shakes his head with an unimpressed look on his face, “Of course she is.” He gestures towards the door at the end of the hall, “You head out first.”

Ana furrows her brow.

“What if she wakes up—”

“I’ll be fine,” Allen interrupts with a soft smile—he gently rests his hand on his little sister’s shoulder, “I promise.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

“Who’s ready for vacation?” Jenna shouts with a wide grin and a tone full of glee as Allen slips into the car seat behind her. She twists around in her seat to get a better look at the black-haired man as he buckles himself in— “Holy shit, what happened to your face?”

Allen stills, instinctually reaching up to cover the red handprint on his left cheek.

Blake jabs his older sister in the side—hard.

“Ow!”

“Have some tact, asshole,” Blake snaps before turning to face Allen with an apologetic look, “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Allen replies in a strained voice as Ana buckles herself in alongside him, “Let’s go.”

“Eugh, your mum is such an ass,” Jenna says with disgust as she turns around to face the dash.

Blake shoots Allen a worried look through the rearview mirror before starting the car and pulling away from the curb. A loud pinging begins emanating from the front seat prompting Blake to groan in frustration.

“Jen, seatbelt,” he snaps, “Come on.”

She rolls her eyes and slips her sunglasses from the top of her head down to her face. She then grabs her seatbelt and clips it on before Blake has a literal conniption behind the wheel.

“You’re so annoying,” Blake growls under his breath.

“Bite me,” Jenna drones.

“So!” Ana interrupts in a pointedly cheerful voice, “What’s the plan?”

Jenna pulls a stick of gum out of her pocket and pops it into her mouth.

“Well,” Jenna starts, taking a moment to let the strawberry flavour of the gum settle in her mouth, “First stop is the flat. We’ll drop off your stuff, hand you the keys and do all of that shiny new tenant stuff.” She blows a quick bubble before sucking the gum back into her mouth, “Then we’ll get your real bags and head straight to the airport. You’re cool with airport food, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” Allen replies, “I’ll make sure to pay—”

“Ah-buh-buh,” Jenna interrupts with a loud clap.

Blake smacks her arm, “Can you not?”

“Blake, shut up—Allen,” Jenna shifts around in her seat until she can see Allen giving her a look from the back seat, “You’ve just spent the last four years in call centre hell putting Annie through college. You are not screwing that up just to pay for the vacation we booked to celebrate it.”

“I thought we booked it to celebrate the move—also sit properly, God,” Blake interjects in an irritated tone, “I am not getting a ticket because you’re too stupid to know how chairs work.”

Jenna rolls her eyes and flips him the middle-fingered salute before turning back around, “Jerk.”

“Nitwit.”

“Asshole.”

“Moron—”

“Okay! Okay, enough,” Allen interrupts from the back seat, “We’re all adults here, come on.”

Jenna hums skeptically and blows another bubble.

“Well, technically—” she starts.

“I’m turning twenty-one in eight months, back off,” Blake growls.

Jenna rolls her eyes and shifts to face Ana nestled in the seat behind him, “You’re turning twenty in three weeks, right?”

“Yeah,” she replies with a bashful smile, “I am.”

Jenna grins and turns back to Allen.

“Remind me when we’re back to start planning something—it’s gotta be out of this world.”