Family Ties (Rewritten)

The Cabin (Part Three)

⚠️ Chapter Contains Violence ⚠️

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Vincent:

Doctor Greer lost all hope for survival when his sister was slain in front of him, I could see it in his eyes.  It was strange.  There was a small part of me that truly pitied him.  He and Beverly were close, and though their bizarre relationship turned them into unfeeling psychopaths, I couldn't help but wonder how badly it must have hurt him to watch her, and his unborn nephew, be slaughtered.

I remembered my childhood pastor preaching to the congregation about demonic possession.  I never really believed in it-until I saw Stella's horrifying transformation from a sweet nurse, to a vengeful goddess with a lust for the blood of her enemies.

How was I going to rid myself of her once all of this was done?  Would she kill me if I tried?  I was too frightened to consider the answer.

"Vincent," She said, "Please let me up."

That was the Stella I knew, the girl with a voice sweeter than honey.  I nodded my head and climbed off of her.  She stood up and walked over to Beverly's dead body, running her hand over her stomach. Her hand trembled.  "Oh my God."

"Stella?"  I watched her warily. 

"I....I have to use the bathroom."  She ran to the back of the cabin before I could stop her, slamming the bathroom door shut. The lock clicked.

Elliot sniffled. His eyes were still fixed on his dead sister. His fingers were swelling from the tightness of the ropes around his wrists. He finally pried his gaze away from Beverly and on to me.

"Vincent," His voice was cracked. It was the first time in a while he called me by my first name. I didn't like it. It felt much too personal. "We're dealing with someone more dangerous than yourself. We need to get out of here before she comes back.  She'll kill us if we don't."

"That's not true." I said, though I wasn't so sure.

"Believe me, I have seen shit like this from some of the other patients." He looked down and shook his head. "I can't believe I didn't see it before."

"You didn't see what?" I don't know why I was listening to him.  Every word from his mouth was a bald face lie.  He would say anything to get himself out of this predicament, I was sure of it.

"She has DID."

"What? Like multiple personalities?"

"Precisely."

I picked up the bloody scalpel and placed it on the kitchen table. "She does not have DID. She's just having a meltdown because of what you did."

"No, it's more than that, Graves. Did you see her eyes when she was......stabbing Beverly? Did you hear her voice? She wasn't herself."

"Stress does that shit to people." The words sounded stupid coming out of my mouth.

"You know better than that."  He was talking to me like we were old friends.  It pissed me off.  "You've been around people with mental illnesses for the last seven years.  That girl is sick.  She needs help."