Page 57 of Fragmented Illusions

You saw something you shouldn’t have

But now it’s too late to go back

You know what we are

But not who

Ever the mystery

We will always be watching

Waiting

Playing

All in the shadows

You could finally know who we are

Our names

Our faces

We want to trust you

Knowing your secrets makes that even more so

We could be together

But trust is a fickle thing…

The next move is up to you

Wanna play in the dark with us, pretty girl?

“You’ve always been good with words, brother,” Spencer says as he leans over my shoulder, reading what I wrote. It’s funny, really, how I never put a single thought into what I write her. Granted this is only the second time, but still.

The words I want to tell her come to me as easily as breathing. Adding the bit about wanting to play in the dark is merely for Spencer’s benefit, but I still like it. It doesn’t sound wholly like me saying it—but like the two of us, Spencer and me, wrote it together. And I guess, in a way, we did.

“Your turn,” I tell him as I push back my chair and get up so he can take my place. He picks up the paper and fans it back and forth a few times before flipping it over. He pulls out a pencil from the drawer and gets to work on his drawing.

That was something about Spencer which surprised me—his ability to draw. Not that I didn’t think he was talented because that is not the case. His skill in which he carves our victims with that knife he always carries is remarkable, but the way he can handle the delicacy of a pencil against paper is mesmerizing in its own way, and I can’t help but to study the way his hand moves as the pencil marks the paper.

I trace the veins along the surface of his hand, their blue-ish green hue contrasting against his slightly sun-tanned skin. My eyes trace up his forearm and the dark hair covering them, to his thick biceps with crescent moon shapes cut into the backs of them—courtesy of our pretty girl.

Our pretty girl…

Fuck. I can’t believe I find myself actually hoping this works out—as if it ever could.

She’s a sick girl, that much I know. The records I found on her were vague to say the least, but we still found out enough. Yet so much of her remains a mystery.

A mystery I’m desperate to solve.

Although, I’m sure the same could be said about Spencer and me. Not a single soul but us knows about our lives. I guess that’s a perk to having zero family members. Even when we were children it was only ever us and Mother.

Until it was just us.

I smirk a little at the memory of our first kill. The utter elation we both felt.