“A Native American elder once described his own inner struggles in this manner: Inside of me there are two dogs. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean dog fights the good dog all the time. When asked which dog wins, he reflected for a moment and replied, 'The one I feed the most'.”

― George Bernard Shaw

*****

"Could you rephrase that, please? I'm not sure I understand the question." She smiled. To anyone who didn't know better, she would seem the epitome of politeness at that moment, but I knew better.

"Where the hell have you been all week, Grace?" I tried to sound calm but failed to keep the rising panic out of my voice. It was never good when she went off for days without a word.

"But that's not really what you're asking, is it, dear brother?" She peeled a grape slowly, holding it delicately between perfectly manicured fingers. "Don't be shy, Kale. Go on, ask me what you really want to know."

"Okay. What have you been up to, Grace?" My eyes drifted toward the dried blood splatters that stood out starkly against her white t-shirt. There was no doubt in my mind that the dark Black Veil Brides jacket she wore over it would be soiled as well. "Are you... are you hurt?"

"Ohh I've been up to nothing you would approve of, brother. I fear that details might just make you lose your breakfast, but needless to worry, the blood isn't mine." She popped the freshly peeled grape into her mouth and chewed slowly.

She was right, I didn’t want to hear about it, yet didn't need details to make my stomach churn at all the possible scenarios running through my mind. My questions to her were all a part of the usual rhetoric, mere formalities on the off chance that my little sister was not yet beyond redemption.

"Is there anything I need to know, Grace? Is there anything that will follow you home?" I sighed. I was tired of cleaning up after my stepsister, but despite my threats in the past, I could never bring myself to turn my back on her.

"I was careful. Promise." She sidled up to me, her fingers running lightly across my lips. "I need you, kiss me." She raised herself onto tiptoe, her lips brushing mine briefly before I turned away from her. Her soft laughter carried no merriment, it was one I had become accustomed to, a sound I loathed. "You're so predictable, Brother."

"Go get cleaned up."

"Are they back yet?" she asked after our parents whom we've not heard from in two months since they had left on vacation to Bali. Their absences over the years had ceased to bother me, but I knew how much it hurt Grace, despite her protests to the contrary.

"No. Not yet, but Greg's dad has had a few e-mails from my dad. He says that they will be back in a few days."

"Ohh whoopee! Something to look forward to - lectures on proper etiquette for a young lady from my whoring gold-digging mother and those awkward disapproving silences that seem to cling to your father like tights on a superhero. I can hardly wait." She threw her hands up in the air and laughed as she made her way up the stairs. "Just one big happy fucking family, aren't we?"

*****

"Local authorities remain baffled by a recent spate of murders in the Red District. The killer, aptly named 'Lolita', has claimed her fifth victim last night. While witnesses claim that each of the victims was last seen with a young woman, none could accurately describe the suspect. Police are urging anyone with information that could lead to an arrest to step forward."

"Fucking idiots... they couldn't catch a rabbit in a barrel." Her voice dripped with disgust. It was all a game of 'Catch me if you can' to her.

"Fish." I didn't turn to look at her, instead, continuing to watch the rest of the news report.

"What?"

"It's like shooting fish in a barrel, not a rabbit."

"Why would anyone want to catch a fish in a barrel? They fucking smell like... well, like fish."

"So this was you? Again?" I turned to look at her briefly, to gauge her reaction to my question. 

"I was having a bad day." She shrugged nonchalantly. "We've all had days like that, Kale. You know those days when you make one tiny mistake and it leads to a bigger mistake, which leads to an even bigger one? Like when you spill coffee on your shirt and you run back upstairs to change. So then the new shirt doesn't match your skirt and you change your skirt, but then you need a different bag and you have to use the stepladder to reach the bag, you know... anyway, you're rushing and your foot slips and you take a tumble. You feel fine, just a bruised leg and you get on with your day. Months later, you have a seizure, because you never had that bruise checked. A blood clot formed and slowly travelled to your brain. Now you have a blood clot in your brain that'll likely kill you, all because you spilt your coffee."

"This has to stop, Grace." Still, I didn't turn to face her. I did not want to see the look in her eyes as she mocked me for having a conscience. "I'm not sure how much longer I can do this."

"Do what, Kale?" And there it was, her voice dripping sarcasm. "Do what?" She came around and knelt in front of me. "Raise your hands, Kale. Let's see the blood on your hands. Oh, wait! There isn't any, because you're a fucking pussy. So don't you fucking lecture me."

"It wasn't a lecture, Grace. It was a warning. The last one you'll get from me."

"Or what? You'll turn me in? Call the cops? Collect the reward?" She threw her head back and laughed. "Don't you dare criticise me for something you've never tried. Feeling the life force seep slowly out of someone is the greatest high ever. And knowing that it was at your hands? Fuck! Nothing compares, Kale. So don't you fucking judge me for wanting to feel that rush." Her face was alive; every part of her seemed animated as she spoke.

"I don't need to walk a single step in your shoes to know that you know that it's wrong. As I said, I love you, Gracie, but this is where I have to draw the line. It stops. Now."

She grabbed my phone off the table, dialled a number and held it to my ear. Her eyes locked on mine as I listened to the emergency services recording about their lines being busy.

"Just be patient, they will answer. What number are you in the queue?" She was taunting me, like she always did. "Go on then, tell them that your sister is a serial killer. They may not believe you at first, but I'd bet that if you told them that she's just threatened to slice off your balls..." Her hand darted between my legs and squeezed. I'm not ashamed to admit that I whimpered like a little girl, which only made her squeeze harder. "Oh wait, I forgot... you don't have any." She pushed me away from her roughly.

"Don't get mad at me, I didn't cause any of this. Where do you think this will end?"

She turned back to face me, darkness clouding the usual mirth in her eyes. "Would you do it? I mean for real."

"Do what?"

"You know, saddle that self-righteous horse of yours and give me up." Something about the way her eyes bore into me made me uncomfortable. Something about her was different. "Could you take away my life like that"

"I wouldn't be taking away your life. Don't be overly dramatic."

"My freedom then. Fucking pedantic dick. Could you take away my freedom?" Her voice rose shrilly.

"I don't know." I averted my gaze, something in her eyes reminded me of a trapped wild animal about to chew off its own paw purely out of instinct. "Time will tell, Grace."

"Yes, only time will tell. You know that I will get caught, right? I think we both know that it’s inevitable." She smiled, but it did nothing to banish the darkness in her eyes. "I guess it would be more special if it was you turning me in. The lights, the cameras, the interviews, the public baying for my blood. The cult following. You will have to wait a while longer though... you know, just until I reach cult status." She paused, then cocked her head slightly, as if to reflect on her words. "There's only one thing that would be a bummer."

"What is that?" I asked, not because I needed an answer, but more to break the silence that seemed to go on for forever.

She looked up at me and smiled, in her eyes I saw a brief glimmer of the girl she used to be. "Being locked up like an animal in a cage." I smiled back at her moments before I felt the blade slip into my gut and heard her whisper, "I love you, big brother."