"You're bleeding."

"Yes, that's what happens when you stab someone."

My eyes darted between the sarcasm in her eyes and the hand pressed against her bleeding side.

"They bleed."

I wielded a knife in my hand. Not of my own accord, it seemed, I was responsible for her wound. My hand trembled as I tried my damndest to keep my grip on the knife's hilt, its braided leather no doubt leaving its mark on my palm.

Before I could begin to form a response, the girl twirled a knife in her hand that was twin to my own. A wicked grin contorted her face, the mischief in her eyes transforming into something cruel.

Any apologies I had considered swiftly avoided leaving my lips. My grip on the weapon tightened.

So, this is how it will be, then.

She agilely dodged my first attack, meant to strike her in the shoulder. She careened backward, her lithe physique serving her well to keep her balance and prepare her for a strike of her own.

Somehow, I managed to maintain my composure. I did not feel like myself. Some deranged, evil thing had corrupted me, corrupted my body and mind. I desperately tried to hold onto what semblance of myself remained, but my mind was slipping.

I thought no more of concern for the girl before me, no more of how she fared. I thought only of the knife in my hand and the damage I intended to inflict.

A quick glance at her lips informed me that she was going to make some sort of snide comment.

Her wits were no match to my blade.

Before a sound escaped her, I lunged forward with the knife in my palm. She attempted to avoid the strike, but I caught her in the arm and pulled her back into me. I caressed my blade against her throat, ruefully teasing the point into her pale skin.

"And what happens when you slice their throat? Do they bleed then, too?"

I felt the girl's breath hitch under the weight of my hand and I smiled at her fear.

A minuscule part of my brain begged me to stop. This is cruel.

The thought was quickly suppressed by those of malice. She deserves this.

As soon as my hand, with a mind of its own, began to press the blade's edge further into the girl's throat, she gripped my arm and threw it forward, knocking me off balance and removing my hold on her.

She abused the sudden movement and moved herself a great distance from me, brandishing her knife and open arm before her. Though her eyes revealed the extent of her pain from the wound in her side, her lips twitched with the whisper of a grin, as though she were amused. I worried if she could see the battle inside my mind.

Our labored breaths echoed in tandem throughout the cavern walls. I noticed unconsciously that her empty hand trembled ever so slightly, illuminating her fear.

Part of my brain sinfully delighted in this knowledge, reveled in it. The part of my brain that was still my own recoiled at the observation.

We circled one another, our footprints leaving imprints in the dirt.

I falsely lunged forward and, as anticipated, the girl moved to dodge my assault. As she did, though, I flicked my hand towards her abdomen, releasing my knife from its grip.

I watched the blade sink into her torso. Blood seeped out from her wound, soaking her shirt in a vicious circle of hurt. Horror etched her features. The twin blade fell from her hand. Fingers creeped up to put pressure on her new injury.

I watched with panic.

From the very moment my silver blade embedded itself into her skin, the wretched possessor of my body and mind released its hold on me.

What had I done?

I collapsed to my knees at the same moment she did, crawling on my hands and knees toward her. My knife fell from my grip, dropping next to its twin. A burning feeling inched up my throat, sobs threatening to break.

My sister, my sister. What had I done to my sister?

Her eyes stared blankly at the cavern's roof. There was no trace of the girl with whom I had once stolen paint from the market alongside, with whom I painted the walls of our tiny home. As sure as I was that there was no trace of me left in my body, there was no trace of my sister.

I sobbed over her body. My sister, my sister. My twin.

"Guess what happens when someone bleeds out," she croaked.

I soundlessly pressed my hand harder against her torso, begging with every god to keep her alive.

I waited.

And waited.

After too long, my hands shook as they closed my sister's eyes, relieving her from the pain and horrors of this world.