Nenavysta ran her tongue against the blade of the knife she had used on Tybalt. The sweet metallic taste of blood filled her mouth and she smiled. She looked back at his body on the bed; he moaned quietly Nenavysta shivered with residual bloodletting excitement.
“Stop your complaining you aren’t dead yet. Besides I’m pretty sure your sister called while you were fooling around,” she said to the nearly unconscious Tybalt. “All I really have to say to you is you should not pick up strangers no matter how well you think you know them. You men are all so simple falling for the same tricks over and over again.”
She laughed and kissed the knife. She walked over to where he lay and sat on the bed next to him and ran her fingers over his raw, bloody skin.
“Now darling if you will excuse me I have some work to catch up on. But this has been fun we should do it again sometime,” she giggled kissing his bloody lips. “But always remember... I let you live,” she hissed in Tybalt’s ear, making him shudder. She was wearing Ana’s skirt and one of Tybalt’s dress shirts and some boots. She filled a bag with his money and valuables.
As Nenavysta Hradi left Tybalt, bleeding to death on his bed a cart arrived in town. It stopped in front of Guineviva’s house and three individuals stepped out. One a woman in her late thirties guiding the second, a young girl with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes that saw nothing but permanent shadows. The final to step out was a young man, about twenty years old tall with brown hair and green eyes.
Nenavysta stood at a distance watching the Priest of the Unther Temple of Order moving around talking to the temple’s loyal patrons who likely come to pray every time they feel any emotion at all. It made Nenavysta laugh to think of the fools who waste their lives praying and hoping for the gods to fix their problems for them. This was one sentiment that the two girls who inhabit the body agree on. This was the argument that Nenavysta won, even if the means were still in dispute.
Order was destroying people’s lives because it taught them to suppress emotions, to be obedient, and to be docile. The philosophies developed based on Order made almost everyone a criminal punishable with death or eternal servitude. Ana’s father was dead because of these teachings, her mother likely the same, and her sister in hiding. Then the laws had so many loopholes and flaws that victims of crimes can be prosecuted as well as offenders. And of course, if you know the right people or can pay the right price, then evidence seems to disappear or become unimportant. If Ana had reported being raped then she could have been charged with the crime of having sex outside of marriage or for tempting a man who was “too good for her”.
Nenavysta clutched the gun in her belt loop feeling the cold of the barrel under her fingers, the ecstasy and anticipation mounting as she waited for the crowds to die down. She really hated to use guns, they took away from the thrill of bloodletting but they were good to incapacitate a victim that could over power her if she was not careful enough, which she seldom was but there had been enough narrow escapes to make her wary. A shot to the knee was always good for incapacitating, and left time for Nenavysta to have… fun.
Soon there was just the priest left alone and he began closing the doors to the temple. It was now common to find deadbolt locks on the doors of the temples to keep out Nenavysta or any of her followers. If any of those holy men honestly believed that would stop my dear Nenavysta Hradi from entering and killing then they had been sorely misinformed.
There was a service entrance to the temple for those who were paid to come and clean the floors, tapestries, etc. Nenavysta entered through there and got to work swiftly.
Even before she regained consciousness Ana knew something bad had happened. She knew without opening her eyes, she knew even if she had not witnessed moments of the blood and gore at Tybalt’s house. Her breathing was heavy and sweat covered every inch of her body. There was a metallic taste in her mouth and the air was polluted with the odour of flesh already beginning to decompose. Her hands were wet and the substance on them was thick, almost like warm syrup... blood.
She felt around the floor that she sat on. Her fingers brushed a blade and she grabbed the knife from the floor and tucked it into her belt. Her wandering fingers found a puddle of blood and Ana refused to venture farther, but the darkness under her eyelids made her feel claustrophobic. She opened her eyes slightly and saw the dark red liquid all over herself and the floor; her hands were a bloody mess. Laying in a puddle of blood to her right was an older man perhaps in his late fifties. His eyes were gone but there was something vaguely familiar about him. She did not investigate further, how this man came to his demise but she could tell it had not ended well. His mouth was frozen in a scream that would never end but would never be heard.
The room was dimly lit. Once again, Nenavysta had blown out most of the candles on the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Only about ten remained. Ana knew she was in a temple, they had killed another man, but she did not know where she was. The answer should have been obvious but if they ever stayed in one place for long then Nenavysta would avoid killing near where they were stationed. Murderers do not kill in their own back yard.
She looked at a box set up at the front meant to collect donations for the Temple. Ana limped over to the box and took a long look at it then back at the man on the floor and deep inside something clicked.
Daddy, daddy, daddy can I put the coin in the box please! A little girl from so many years ago cried pulling on her father’s arm while her pregnant mother smiled fondly at her.
“Oh...” Ana said aloud. Her knees suddenly felt weak and she covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. That man, the one on the floor who had his eyes ripped from their socket as he slowly bled to death under the knife of a sadomasochist, had been the priest who accused her father of blasphemy eight years earlier. He had been the priest who had Mr. Tanner taken away while his wife and children starved, and the reason why Ana’s life had fallen into a vicious circle of Chaos.
Ana was happy.
A hysterical laugh bubbled from her lips and she stood there grinning. She would become tolerant, and distant. She had never been grateful for anything Nenavysta had done, ever, but in that moment, she was truly happy that this man was dead.
This all has to stop, she thought madly. She lifted the knife and examined it. She could not let them go on as they were. She could not be happy about someone’s death no matter how deserving he had been. It was one thing that separated her from Nenavysta. Nenavysta enjoyed murder Ana did not. However, right then Ana felt dirty; they had hurt Tybalt and killed a man. She was happy!
She turned and limped from the building shaking with suppressed laughter... or was it tears?
“He deserved it; do not waste your emotions on men who deserve to die,” Nenavysta hissed in Ana’s ear.
“Shut up!” Ana screamed. “Shut up! I do not want this! I don’t want to kill people!”
“So you say. But you cannot deny the joy you felt when you saw that man. When you realized who it was and remember what he’d done to you...”
Ana put the knife to her wrist and Nenavysta fell silent.
Think about this Ana. You do not want to do this.
“I like killing people. You said it yourself. I don’t see the difference, between slitting my wrists and slitting another’s,” Ana said. Before Nenavysta could reclaim control of their body Ana slashed at her wrist, blood seemed to erupt from the small cut.
“No!” Nenavysta screamed.