Mercy killing

Growing up with a twin wasn’t that different from what the media often showed. There was an unspoken connection between siblings, an unconditional support, not even their parents were able to match. The filial love Mercy and Agatha had for each other was similar to loving their own person, just as natural, but somehow easier, almost instinctive. One would not cry without the other, one would never laugh alone. That's why as they grew older, as they became more independent, as their connection started to lose its comfortable intensity, an unusual anxiety started to settle on Mercy’s heart.   

During adulthood this breach between the ginger twins only grew. It was the little changes that unnerved Mercy. When she cut her hair, Agatha let hers grow. While she struggled to maintain a simple job, her sister exceled in med school. The differences only seemed to grow by the day. And, even though outsiders saw their relationship as endearingly close, Mercy was left fearing that that distance would never truly disappear. The tipping point came when Phineas entered the equation. He was a dark-haired, young gentleman who instantly took a liking to Agatha’s kindness. It wasn't long before they became romantically involved. The closeness between the couple brought the stranger into Mercy’s life without any invitation. And though the man was decent, and even likable to some extent, the single sister could not ignore how this intruder seemed to be taking her place as Agatha’s most trusted individual.  

A dormant danger awoke the night the couple got engaged. They were so joyful, holding hands, with bright eyes and wide smiles. Seeing it happen didn’t feel overwhelming. It was rather like the snap of a rope, sudden but quiet, and oh so very problematic. Mercy realized that, in order to get her sister back, she could no longer afford to just sit back and wait for her to return. So, when the news of the affair Phineas was maintaining reached her ears, Mercy’s fantasies developed into plans.  

But it wasn’t until a cold October night that Mercy’s most secret desires crawled out into the spotlight. She had been asked by her sister to take care of her dog, a small grey schnauzer, during the day. With the happy couple working long hours at the hospital and the office, neither could look after the sick puppy, so that duty fell onto Mercy. As agreed with Agatha, the unsuspecting redhead brought back the dog in the early hours of the night, knowing that only Phineas would be at home, having just arrived from work.  

On her way to the back of the bright modern house, the eye of the young ginger got caught by the shadows forming on the curtains of the window. The movement was confusing, and the silhouettes blurry, but the noises coming from within were clear enough. The moaning and groans belonged to a scene Mercy was not comfortable thinking about. That is until the information of what was happening finally clicked into place: her sister was not at home, but at the hospital, working. The man inside was undoubtedly her husband, but the one with him, the other culprit, she could not recognize.  

Mercy had caught the focus of her deep, dark hatred red handed. If she confronted him, the situation could be solved easily, before Agatha ever felt the pain of the truth herself. But the ginger did not move. Her limbs felt frozen into place as her instinct fought her morals inside her. Although her rational side understood the kind plan, there was still a beast lurking, waiting to get out and fulfil her obsessive desires, and this was the perfect moment to pounce.  

Soon the scene had changed. The lovers were no longer in the bedroom, but rather making their way through the corridors. The session had just ended, so they proceeded to erase the evidence. By the time someone could discover what was happening, the sheets would be cleaned, the third party would be gone, and all that was left would be the pleasurable memories of the guilty ones. But, while they shared their goodbyes at the front door, Mercy had moved without a conscious thought. She was no longer standing outside. She had entered the home through the back door, a dark look in her eyes, her body strangely relaxed, just as a predator stalking its prey.   

Finally, Mercy and Phineas met inside the house. The man was taken aback by the sudden appearance of his sister-in-law, and it prompted the rise of an anxiousness inside him. Had she seen his lover? Did she know his secret? Would she rattle him out? Through his nervousness he failed to perceive the darkness growing inside the ginger woman. He should have noticed the coldness of the smile, or how the lack of a response only made the approach of the short female much more sinister.  

It wasn’t until Mercy had passed right next to Phineas in complete silence that the dark-haired man finally stopped his anxious questions. He turned around in time to see the short-haired woman looking fondly at a picture of the three of them. The twins and the man who separated them, smiling happily at the camera, as if everything would be perfectly fine from then on, as if their happy ending had just arrived.   

As Phineas opened his mouth to question her actions, a sudden tension settled in the room, and a rapid movement managed to break it in a moment. Mercy had grabbed the picture and swung it with great force towards his victim's head, striking him on his right temple. Soon there was blood everywhere, falling from the wound on the head, flooding the floor, becoming the background of a macabre scene. The body had fallen limp on the floor, the life it once had dissipating completely.  

The deed was done, but as it was, it didn’t mean a thing. Even if the problem was gone, she needed to send a message. Her feelings had to reach Agatha. So, she painted a picture: with blood and tears she made the motive clear. As she saw the devil’s horns above the corpse, she painted them on the photograph. As she saw the crack on the flimsy matrimony between angel and demon, she broke the rings that had united them, and settled them where they would be clearly seen. And, when she was done, when her urges were finally satisfied, she left. A small, innocent smile on her round, easygoing face. No one would suspect a loving, shy, peaceful woman like herself to be the killer, but her sister would get the message.