𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒚

𝐷𝑒𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚

𝐓𝐰; nondescript mention of torture, mention of death
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 433

"𝑺𝒆𝒆? 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅."
The distorted voice echoed in her dreams. The sound of waves crashing against tall rocksvmasked the overwhelming sense of dread soon to wash upon the shore.

"𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆?"
It speaks again, millions of whispers loud and hushed forming into a single voice. One that came from everything and everywhere at once, but also from the deepest depths of her subconscious.

"Why should i? What do i get from telling you my name?"

"𝑨𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘."

"I don't. So go on, enlighten me."

Anger flares up so easily, it's honesty a shame that such a powerful emotion exists within her for only a few seconds. But alas, if it lasted longer we'd have a wildfire that would never stop burning, even if the only thing left to burn was the world itself.

"𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓,"
The voice stopped for a second, almost as if it was getting annoyed.

"𝑨𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔. 𝑰𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒗𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅."
That was 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦𝑛'𝑠 final mistake.

One might say trusting a mysterious voice in your head that sounds like death itself was a horrible idea, but that's not what broke her.

What truly messed with her head was how true to it's word the voice stayed.

"𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏, 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆."

"𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦𝑛"

"𝑰 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓."
If the voice was annoyed before, it was beyond pissed now.

"𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓."

"Then there is no reason for me to tell you. After all, you already know."

Ah, poor Elizabeth, always wanting to have the last laugh.

But things beyond our understanding like this one don't take kindly to being talked to like that. And so, the voice showed Elizabeth all it knew.

All the people it saw die in their beds with their eyes gouged out, all the houses set ablaze by accidents that never happened, all the murders no one ever saw, all the answers to all her questions.

The guilt of killing her sister already ate her alive, what was left of Elizabeth was nothing but a ghost. But even ghosts can be torn apart and tortured with the right information.

Elizabeth bit off more than she could chew, she played a game she knew she couldn't win, and now, she must suffer the consequences.

Ellie Montgomery,
Time of death; 3:59 am.