She's in the bathroom, blood dripping around her feet, a bit like her period except there's so much. And it's not coming out of her, which is good, although also not because then where is it coming from?
"Not a big deal," says the girl in the mirror. April tilts her head, because she's the girl in the mirror, isn't she?
The mirror shrugs. "Not always." She's smiling, arms hanging over her sides, exposing her naked flesh. Because yes, April's naked, except for the crystal around her throat (she knows the crystal's still there because she can feel it's reassuring weight, but she can't see it it the mirror).
April instinctively covers her breasts with her arms, but the other girl doesn't move. She just smiles, teeth bared, her hair fluttering in a nonexistent wind.
"Black Swan vibes, yeah?" One hand reaches out and drums on the glass thoughtfully. April winces at the sound. "Only I'll assure you, it's very real." There's blood in other-April's teeth, and when April licks her own lips, she finds blood there, too.
Red. Red as their hair, red as lipstick, red as a kiss--
"There's a man," she says suddenly, and yes, when she turns to look at the half-open door she can see into the larger room, see a person, or what used to be a person. She's not sure how she knows it's a man, because once someone's been...unraveled like that, and spread out over the walls, it's hard to tell.
Her heart stutters. "I need to call someone--"
"Oh really?" Her reflection quirks an eyebrow, unimpressed. "And what will you say when you ask them who did this?"
April's world tilts, and she grabs the bathroom counter for purchase. "No."
"Oh, yes." And she can see it in her--their?--mind: the smoky lights of the bar, the man smiling at her from the counter, the plastic smile she put on in her return. Following him to what he said was his house, hips pressing together in the darkened room, their lips met, and then she closed her eyes and reached--
"Why?" Her voice is a cracked rasp.
The creature in the mirror looks at her levelly. "Because he was a monster. We read his mind, didn't we?"
His mind.... A blur of images hits her like a punch. Women and girls, forgotten souls lured off the street and into his home. Hurt. Damaged. Killed.
He hadn't even wanted to take her: she was healthy enough and rich enough and put-together enough and sane enough and white enough to attract attention. She'd made him take her home, and then she'd taken revenge for all the havoc he'd wreaked.
It was glorious. She remembers the lightning pulsing through her veins, remembers the terror in her eyes, remember how she'd trembled with power it had threatened to undo the very fabric of the world. It was the kind of thing you could get drunk on, addicted to, if you only held on long enough.
"But I don't kill." Her voice is a whisper, trembling in the stillness. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, that's how it gouges, and she doesn't want that--right? Right?
"You do what you have to do, April," her doppelgänger says. She brushes a hand across her hip and April stiffens, feeling the touch on your own skin. "You always have."
Her teeth glint like fangs. Her eyes are jet black one second, burning white the next. "Now, come, let me take care of you."
April's breath hitches as a bloody hand dips between her legs. Only she's not touching herself, but the girl in the mirror is, her free hand teasing at her own nipples. April gasps at the sensation, knees locking while hands far more skilled than her own toy with her cunt.
"Stop..." she rasps, trailing off into her moan. She--she needs it to stop, right? But it feels so good, good enough to burn away the sense of blood crusting on her skin, the steady dripping from the next room. "Stop?"
"That's not what you want." The voice is deeper now, and something about it makes April think of humming stars and fluttering wings. The thought vanishes before it can form, and then the fingers at her cunt are moving deeper, the ones at her breasts pinching harder and faster.
"Let me take care of you, child," and she's staggering away from the mirror, not looking back to see if her reflection is still there. The first shudders hit and the hands keep touching her, all through the orgasm and then dragging her towards the next one.
"We're going to do amazing things, you and I." April can't speak, all she can do is pant and tremble and moan. At some point the shower clicks on seemingly by itself and then the blood is flowing off of her body as she spasms on the ground.
(She wakes up at home, dark memories wiped clean, but she feels something vicious and ugly marked under her skin anyway. She can't name it, but she knows it's here to stay).