They can smell the blood. They want more.
She knows she is almost there.
In the living room, with the streetlight pouring in through the window, she takes off her gloves and examines her hands, wrinkled more today than they were even yesterday.
The reason is simple. The ceremony has been interrupted.
But she knows that now everything will go back to the way it is supposed to be.
As soon as she is finished with the female cop. Yes, everything will once again be as it should be.
The thirsty gods are whispering with ever increasing insistence.
They want the scarlet feast.
She won’t make them wait any longer.
She gently unfolds the velvet cloth on the table. Her wrinkled hands close around the porcelain mask that was encased in it.
57
In the dark, in her memories, Eva is gasping for air.
She no longer knows where she is.
She no longer knows how old she is. Six, or thirty, as if there were a difference. The monsters are always there.
She has returned to a place in her mind that she has tried to keep locked away all these years. That red zone of memories that had to be isolated and banished so that she could pretend this place never existed.
She is hurled once again into the heart of her childhood.
She wants to move. She can’t. She’s still tied down.
“You have to remember,” her sister whispers in her ear.
Eva looks down. She can feel Justyna’s tiny body snuggled against hers. This little six-year-old girl who died so that she could live.
“Justyna,” she says softly.
“You have to accept it,” the little girl says.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s been twenty-four years. It’s about time,” Justyna insists. “You have to do it.”
“To do what?”
“To remember.”
“No. I don’t want to.”
“You have to.”
“
The little girl snuggles even closer. She softly kisses Eva’s trembling eyelids and her tears. “Now,” she whispers. “Before it’s too late.”
Eva is sobbing.
“I’m so afraid. If you only knew how afraid I am, Justyna.”
She has never been so scared.
And not knowing what else to do, she holds her sister in her arms in a corner of the living room.
They are such vulnerable prey. Waiting, breathless, for the monster to appear.
They did not see him kill Mrs. Rieux, but they know that is what happened. They heard the cry, short and high-pitched. They heard the crashing of glasses, pots and pans as her body was hurled across the kitchen. No need to see.
Eva and Justyna get up, shaking. They do not look at each other. They stare at the front door. They know that only this door separates them from the street and all the people who are out there. They think about everything that Mommy has taught them. Run. Run away, making as much noise as possible to attract attention.
And that is exactly what the two little girls with white hair do. They dash for the door, screaming.
They almost make it.
When the monster steps out of the kitchen and plants himself in front of the exit, blocking their way.
The monster is a man. Tall and thin, dressed in black from head to toe.
They can see that his hair is like theirs: as white as milk.
And his eyes. His gaze, too, is like theirs. Two burning embers staring at them with obvious glee.
The girls scream at the top of their lungs. They try to run in the other direction, but the man is on them. He snatches them with no difficulty at all. They fight back as best they can. Like six-year-old girls. They claw and bite him. Then he takes each one by the neck and squeezes. He pins them both against his chest. They can feel his heart pounding.
“Oh, at last,” he says.
Justyna tries to kick him with her heel of her shoe. The man tightens his grip on them, while out on the street, a police officer is slowly walking by.
If only the officer would turn his head their way, if only he would peek inside the house through the window. He woukdd see them.
The man pulls them out of view.
The police officer glances inside the house.
He sees nothing, nothing at all.
Did he even really look? He continues walking until a neighbor stops him. They begin to talk less than ten yards from Mrs. Rieux’s door.
In the entrance hall, the man finds the door leading to the basement.
“I came for you, my sweet little things. For you and nobody else. Your mother, that slut, she really drove me nuts, you know.”
The little girls do not understand. They are hurt. They are scared. They know what bad men do. They can see blood seeping in streams from the kitchen like languid red snakes.
The man opens the door and tosses the twins down the stairs. They tumble, they fall, and they slam into each other.
Standing at the top of the stairs, the man looks down at them.
“It is time.” he says.
He starts down the steps toward the terrified little girls.
“It is time to wake up, little tiger.”
Eva opens her eyes. The masked woman is standing over her.
“You know that you talk in your sleep?”
Eva swallows. She can hardly breathe. Six years old or thirty, it makes no difference. The monsters are always after her. She does not even know how long she has been in this basement. An hour? A day? Or has it been even longer? She can’t remember. She thinks she has already started losing her mind. Soon she is going to mistake fantasy for reality.
She tries to pull on the rope. She has spent so much time trying to cut into it, strand after strand. But the rope is still holding. Maybe she hasn’t worn it away at all. She no longer has the strength to try.
“Who’s Justyna?” the masked woman asks.
Eva says nothing. She will
If only she could free herself. Just one hand. She is certain that she could fight back then, as she always has. Her entire life has been a fight. It cannot come to an end this way. Not now. She starts moving her wrist again. Starts working on the rope. Up. Down.
The woman grabs her by the throat.
Slowly, she squeezes.
“You were talking to someone named Justyna. I heard you. Who is she?”
“Nobody!” Eva spits out.
