Vivian's senses were fuzzy, the sharp ache in her head clouding reality. A voice, distant yet familiar, kept calling her name. "Vivian… Vivian… wake up!" Someone was stroking her face gently, trying to rouse her. Through her heavy eyelids, she barely made out the face of her brother, Rupert, hovering over her.
"Come on, Viv… get up!" His voice sounded strangely calm, yet the urgency was undeniable.
She groaned as she stirred, her whole body protesting the movement. He helped her sit up. It all felt like a dream—her bloody hands, the chaos, the nightmare she just escaped. Her back throbbed with pain, yet everything around her looked eerily… clean. There were no bloodstains, no bodies. Not even a speck of dust on the polished floor. Everything was pristine and clear.
Confused, she glanced around. Her mother wasn't there. The horror she'd just witnessed—or had she caused it?—seemed to have evaporated into nothingness. Only Rupert remained. He looked at her with an unreadable expression.
"Where is Mother?" she asked cautiously, feeling the unease settle into her bones.
Rupert's eyes darkened. "In the room upstairs," he said quietly, a cold edge in his tone.
"And that man?" Her voice quivered. She could barely bring herself to say Father.
Rupert's lips tightened. "Also in the room."
Vivian tried to stand, though her legs wobbled beneath her. She could hardly feel the ground beneath her feet, as if her body was no longer hers. Her bloody back throbbed painfully, but the overwhelming numbness inside made it all feel unreal. She limped toward the staircase, needing to see them, needing to prove to herself this was all just some cruel dream.
But as she neared the stairs, Rupert's hand grabbed her arm tightly, yanking her back. "Where are you going?"
"To see Mother…" she whispered, her voice fragile but hopeful. "She's okay, right?" A strained smile pulled at her lips, as though clinging to some false hope.
Rupert stared at her, the look on his face growing darker. "She's dead, Vivian," he said flatly, his voice cold and unrelenting.
Vivian froze. His words pierced her like the knife she had tried to pull from her mother's chest. "No… no, no, no, that's not possible. It was just a dream," she muttered, shaking her head as if trying to shake off the nightmare.
But Rupert's next words hit her even harder. "It wasn't a dream," he said quietly, the finality of his words weighing down on her.
Her stomach twisted violently. "Then… Father?" she asked, barely able to get the words out. Her heart raced, her throat dry.
Rupert nodded, his face grim. "He's dead too."
Her chest tightened, and tears welled in her eyes. She stared at her brother, a realization dawning on her that she couldn't accept. "I… I killed him," she whispered hoarsely, tears streaming down her face. The weight of her confession hung in the air like a storm cloud about to break.
Rupert's expression didn't change. "No," he said, his voice softer, almost detached. "He killed himself… after he killed Mother."
Vivian's heart pounded in her chest. Her mind spun in a dizzying whirlpool of guilt and horror. She saw flashes of blood, her father's eyes bulging as she thrust the knife into him, her mother's cold, lifeless face. It was all her fault.
"NO!" she screamed, her voice shaking with hysteria. "No, I did it… I killed him! I stabbed him!" Her body trembled uncontrollably, as if trying to shake free from the unbearable truth. "I killed them all!"
Suddenly, Rupert slapped her hard across the face. The force of the blow sent her stumbling back, gasping for air. Her skin stung, but it was the shock that left her breathless.
"YOU DID NOTHING!"
Rupert's voice roared in her ears. His face was inches from hers, his eyes blazing.
"Do you understand? You weren't even here. None of this is on you."
Vivian's mind refused to process the words. It felt like the floor had been ripped out from beneath her. "But I was here… I was here," she cried weakly, struggling against his grasp, her nails digging into his skin. She felt suffocated, the weight of her guilt crushing her.
"It's your fault! You didn't protect her! You let him kill her!" Her voice cracked, filled with accusation and grief. "You let that monster… you let him take her from us!"
Rupert's face twisted in anguish. "Yes, it's my fault," he murmured, pulling her close, his voice breaking as he held her struggling form. "It's all my fault." His grip tightened as she thrashed against him, hitting him with every ounce of her strength remaining in her injured arms, her body convulsing like a dying fish gasping for air.
Vivian was unraveling, her strength slipping away with each sob. She felt the life drain out of her, her limbs growing weak, her mind collapsing into a pit of despair. Her vision blurred, and her knees buckled under her as she collapsed in Rupert's arms, her sobs growing weaker until the world around her faded to black.
"Vivian… Vivian…!" Her brother's desperate voice echoed in her ears as she fell into the abyss.
---
When her eyes finally opened again, the familiar coldness of the jail cell greeted her. She lay on the hard ground, her body curled into itself, her face damp with tears. "Rupert," she whispered, her voice hoarse, calling out into the void.
But Rupert was dead. He had been dead for days now.
And here she was, locked away, accused of murdering the only person she would never harm.
Her body ached with the same unbearable pain she had felt all those years ago. The weight of loss, the horror of betrayal. It all crashed down on her like a tidal wave, drowning her in the relentless agony of her past.
Sobbing uncontrollably, she curled into herself, her mind spiraling into the darkest corners of her memories. And in the shadows, Detective Sarah Blake stood quietly, watching her.