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(Warning: This part of the story contains themes and imagery that my disturb and/or distress some readers as well as including heavy gore. The content is not suitable for children or those who have suffered abuse. For the sake of avoiding spoilers I am not going to say what content appears but read at your own peril. If you would rather avoid any undue distress but still want to know what happens in this part, please send me a note asking what happens and I will respond as soon as possible.)


“Do you believe in Hell?” Alice asked her long lost sister.
I was left in shock and disbelief. She had finally spoken. After five years of silence, five years of maddening silence the Ravenwatch Slasher had finally spoken. I was left speechless. Ironic really. I had never expected her to speak when she didn't at Dorothy’s house.
Dorothy herself was quiet now, but she didn't realise how momentous this was. All she cared about was an explanation for why her own sister killed her parents. How she could have gone so long without remembering.
“I believe in Hell.” Alice continued as she painstakingly leant down and picked up the music box with her good hand, then put it in the other and held her wounded shoulder. “Not in the spiritual sense, of course. Religion never did anything to help me. No, for me Hell is something altogether more real.
“It's all around us.” Alice gestured around her. “And in here.” Then she pointed to her head.
“Have you ever felt like everyone hates you, even the people you love, and are meant to love you? Like you were never meant to be born? Like you are a burden, and when you're not a burden you're a toy to be used however people want? That is how I felt everyday of my life. And it wasn't depression, it is all true. Now that is Hell.
“It's like drowning in a sea of complete inky black. There is no way of knowing which way is up or down, left or right. And all around are monsters and demons swimming about and holding you down and hurting you and screaming at you. Doing everything they can to drag you further down and make it as painful as they can. All that inky black corruption is filling your lungs and your mind and making you hate yourself too. That's Hell: an inky black sea full of monsters.

“I didn't ask for your philosophies on Hell and your sob story.” Dorothy waved her gun at Alice. “I want to know why you killed my parents, your parents, OUR parents.”

“Yes, I suppose you would rather know that. And you have every right to know. I've been wanting to tell you, really, I never shared my sorrows before. It's just that I haven't spoken for so long. You are the only person I've wanted to talk to. I've been thinking about what to say. To tell you why. I could never get the words right. But I had no idea that you had forgotten me.”

“I thought you, mum and dad died in a car crash, and that Alex adopted me. I think forgetting you and replacing the memory was a perfectly rational move considering what you did. But it's too late now. Hurry up and tell me.” Dorothy growled.

“Yes, I'm sorry. I suppose I should start from the beginning, otherwise you might not understand.
“A woman visited New York when she was young. Twenty or so, I would think. In New York she met a man. She met him down in a dark, secluded alley where he took advantage of that young, weak woman, and raped her. She was left humiliated and defiled. She didn't report it. She never told anyone. She just wanted to go home and forget it ever happened. However, when she got home she found out that she was pregnant. Pregnant with that man’s child. She had options open to her, as does any mother in England. She could have had it aborted, set it up for adoption, or even abandoned it completely. But she didn't. Who knows why. What ever her reason, nine months later I was born.
“Your mother looked after me, in a sense. Food, clothes, shelter. They were never of great quality, that was fine, but there was no love. I was nothing to her but a burden, a waste of space, a mistake, and she never failed to remind me of that every single day. I had seen how children loved their mothers and how their mothers loved them. I tried to convince myself that in some way, some small way, that your mother loved me. In the end though I knew that wasn't true. I tried to love her, only to receive hate in return. I was content though. It was something, at least. And that was only the first three years of my life.”

“Why didn't you do something?” Dorothy asked skeptically. “Surely there was someone you could have told? Someone who noticed something was wrong?”

“I was three, Dorothy. I was powerless, voiceless, helpless. Besides, no one wants to deal with someone else's problems. There was nothing I could do.
“Things got better after she met your father, though. Finally I was getting good food, warm clothes, a bed, toys, books. Almost everything a normal child should have. As it turned out though, it all came at a price, a very, very step price: me. You see, your father loved your mother, but she couldn't satisfy him and his… desires. And so it fell to me. I became he's doll. I really don't want to revisit those memories, I'm sure you get the picture.
“Did you mother know, you might wonder? Yes, she knew. And what did she do about it? She blamed me. She was jealous because I was receiving the attention she wanted. And for that she beat me. It wasn't his fault. It was mine.”
“There I was in that dark sea I call Hell, drowning in pain and hate. Monsters with stingers and tentacles swimming about me. I had no where to go, because I didn't know which way was out. I had no way to escape. No light to guide me. No angels to save me…”
Alice lifted her head back to Dorothy, with bloody tears streaming down her cheeks.” Alice's head drooped down, staring at the ground in sadness.
“And then you were born.” She said, lifting her head as more of her bloody tears cascaded from her face. She did her best to dry them with the back of her hand. “I remember when I heard the news that your mother was pregnant and that nine months later you would be born. I was scared, honestly. I was afraid that you would be just like them, or that you would end up like me.
“Seeing you for the first time, you were so small and beautiful, and you were being showered with love by your parents. The love I never received. I hated you. I hated you and I was jealous. Then your mother called me over to see you more closely. I held out my hand for you, and your tiny little hand reached out for mine, and your fingers wrapped around my finger. At that moment all my hatred for you disappeared like a vapour. Finally, I could see a light shining down through the surface of the dark water, bathing me in warmth. I loved you. For the first time in my life I felt something other than despair and self-loathing, and you loved me. You were my angel.” Alice sniffed and wiped away more of her tears.
Dorothy had lowered her gun to her side, and try as she might to fight it her eyes were watery and she was on the verge of crying.
“You remember this music box, don't you?” Alice asked Dorothy.

“Yes,” Dorothy sighed somewhat mournfully, “I remember. It was supposed to be for your eighth birthday, but I gave it to you early to cheer you up while you were recovering in hospital from the surgery on your skull. You carried it with you everywhere and listened to it whenever you could. You were obsessed with it.”

“It was the most meaningful gift I had ever received. One of the few, really.” Alice told her sister. “It provided me with some escape from my life when you weren't around. A piece of you left with me.
“However, despite everything you had done for me I was still stuck in Hell, and it only got worse with everyday that passed.
“It wasn't just your mother and father who tortured me. The children at school could sense I was suffering, and because I was suffering I was different, and it is human nature to persecute the different. I was like a suspected witch in a village of fanatics. In primary school kids just avoided me, they left me to wallow in my loneliness. After the incident with my eyes things got worse. Gossip, rumours, extortion, teasing, and even beatings. The teachers tried to help, but eventually they gave up on me. One teacher even… I don't even what to talk about that creep. In secondary school it just kept getting worse. In the end you, and only you, were my friend.
“Even still, Hell was becoming a part of me. Its ink slithered down my throat and my nose and stained my skin and my eyes and my mind. So many times I looked at a bottle of bleach and wanted to chug it, to see a building and wish to leap from the roof, to hold a blade and desire to cut open my throat. I couldn't though. I couldn't abandon you. I loved you too much, my angel. So I stayed and endured. As long as I could bath in that glimmer of light you gave me I would remain.”
“When I was fifteen though my outlook changed. I was walking home from school, the day you took off sick. I took my usual route, the one near the woods and passed by the abandoned construction project, happily listening to the recording I made of the tune from the music box. That's strange, I know, but that tune means a lot to me. Anyway, as I walked by the construction project I noticed a hooded man smoking what I guessed was weed with plenty of empty beer cans at his feet. I ignored him. I just wanted to get home and forget about school and see you. As I walked by I suddenly felt myself being knocked to the ground and the man in the hood fumbling drunkly to take my trousers off. I knew what was coming, I had experienced it enough times.
“Everyone. Everyone! Wanted to use me in some way.” Alice’s tone became angry and resentful. “I was just a toy for everyone, there to be used and treated like crap. At that moment something in my head finally snapped. Have you ever had that? I could almost literally feel something in my head snap.”
Alice bent double and began to make a sound like crying. “I snatched up a piece of glass,” she uttered, “and cut that pig’s throat open, HAHAHAHAAHA,” Alice bellowed and laughed manically.
“The look on his face. Haha. The horror heheheeehee. I pushed him over and stab at him over and over again, and when the grass finally shattered in my hand I just grabbed another shard and kept going. Hahahe. It was like all of my rage, all of my anger and hatred was flowing out of me like the blood from him. Haha. After years of abuse, it was him. Him! A random stranger who finally pushed me over the edge into UTTER FUCKIN’ MADNESS! HAHAHEHAAHAHAH HAHAHAHAAHA.
“The feeling of causing pain. Of killing someone. It's a kind of bliss that you can only achieve if you've lived in Hell your whole life like I have. HAHAAHHAHEEEHE.”
Eventually Alice's insane laughter became reduced to snickers, then nothing.
“I can see the way you’re looking at me, like I'm some kind of monster.” Alice's tone became harsh and cold once again.
“Well it was them who made me like this. Even with all your light and music they're hate and beatings left me near hollow and broke me. The inky dark filled me and awoke something they wish they'd hadn't. With that pig’s blood splashing my face I decided that it was time to end my suffering and anguish, and I would kill them to see that happen. Preferably making it as painful as possible.”

At this point my head was going dizzy and my eyes weak, but I couldn't give in just yet. I had to know everything. Why she did it all, how she does it, how she is so smart and so dangerous.

“And that is where I began.” Alice continued. “I would take away everything they used to hurt me, including their lives. I was in constant fear of being caught. As I'm sure you know I wasn't exactly delicate when I killed them and I didn't bother hiding the bodies. But it seemed no one suspected me. Well, almost everyone. Inspector Blake had some inkling, however, in the end how could a fifteen year old girl do such damage to people, taking down boys three times her strength? I'm not as delicate as I look, and far more skilled too. They were too busy looking for Jack the Ripper back from the dead or insane surgeons. In the end it was a fifteen year old girl mutilating those little pricks.
“I couldn't… I couldn't kill them all. I couldn't kill your parents. I had no love for them, I hated them, but you did, and they loved you. I couldn't take that happiness away from you. I loved you too much to hurt you.”

“Then what changed?” Dorothy asked. “WHAT CHANGED?” She screamed. “You killed them right in front of me! I begged you to stop, screaming and shrieking for you to stop, but you didn't! You wouldn't stop.”

“I know.” Alice wailed and cried out more blood. “I know. Nothing in my entire life, my entire piece of shit life hurt more than when I finally stopped and looked at your face covered in blood and tears, crying for you parents and staring at me like I was the monster from you worst nightmare. That pained me more than anything else, and worse knowing that it was me who did that to you. Who made you cry and took away everything you ever cared for. That face has haunted my every dream for five whole years. But I had to kill them. I had no choice.
“What changed, you ask? We changed. I was fifteen and for a long time your father had been losing interest in me. That night I saw him look at you in the way that he used to look at me and I knew what was going to happen. Your mother saw it too and that jealous look on her face appeared. I knew what was going to happen. It was going to start all over again but with you instead of me. I wouldn't let that happen and I was willing to pay any price to make sure that it didn't happen. I just flew into a rage and it wasn't until your voice finally broke through the red silence that I could stop. The horror of seeing what I anguish I had caused you was unimaginable, leaving me frozen to the spot until the police arrived.”
Alice wiped away the bloody tears as Dorothy’s tears began to stream harder.
“I don't expect you to forgive me. What I did was unforgivable. I am not going to apologise for what I did, though. I was protecting you.
“For all those years that I was locked away you were all I could think about. All I wanted to do was see you and talk to you, but you never came, you never visited. I knew that you hated me. I just wanted to tell you why I did it. To stop you from hating me. But when I escaped I was too afraid to find you. So I decided to take care of some unfinished business. In the end though I came to you. I didn't know you had forgotten me though. I almost regret doing this. You were curious though. You didn't even believe your own delusion.
“It's over now though. My targets are dead, and you know the truth.”

A click penetrated through the rain as Dorothy raised her gun and aimed at Alice. “Not yet. It’s not over until you're gone. The bloodshed won't stop until you die.” Dorothy said as I began to feel worse. “Goodbye Alice.” She pulled the trigger.

I expected to see Alice fall down dead. I should have known better. With amazing speed and agility she side stepped her sister’s bullet. Her hand left her shoulder and shot into her back pocket, and before Dorothy could fire again Alice aimed her second gun and fired. Blood spirited from Dorothy’s shoulder and she fell to the ground, dropping her gun and crying out in pain as she held her shoulder. The second gun, the one Alice and I found in the cabin the night we commandeered it. I'd forgotten all about it.
“I'm sorry, Dorothy.” Alice said as she walked towards her downed sister. “I'm so sorry. I didn't want to do that. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you ever, but I'm afraid I have no intention of being killed by my own sister. I want to go out on my own terms.” When Alice reached her sister, who was hunched up on the floor, she kicked her gun away. She knelt down and lovingly cradled her wheezing sister in her arms before planting a goodbye kiss on her check.
My sight and hearing were going fuzzy, but I could hear the whining of police sirens and the flash of red and blue lights.
Alice laid her sister back down and walked away. She awkwardly picked up her mask and managed to buckle it to the belt loops of her jeans. “Don't worry about Inspector Blake. He’ll survive the gun shot. And so will you. You don't need to worry about me anymore. Goodbye, my angel.” Alice stepped up onto the edge of the roof, directly overlooking the Thames, her gun still in her hand.

“Wait… Alice.” I coughed as my sight faded way more and more. A blurred Alice turned around to face me.

“Thank you, Doctor. Our time together has been… Therapeutic.” She said. And as my eyes closed the last thing I heard that day was the sound of a gunshot and Alice splashing into the water below.
This is the part that I've been the most anxious about.
Please give me your completely honest opinions.
Other than that I hope you enjoy the final part of The Envelope.
previous part: d3ad-mad-hatt3r.deviantart.com…
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:iconrjdubbya:
rjdubbya Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
woah, that is a very well written piece! i couldn't stop reading... i'm glad i found this story! great job :)
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:icond3ad-mad-hatt3r:
D3AD-MAD-HATT3R Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you. Did you read it from the first part?
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:iconrjdubbya:
rjdubbya Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
i just read this last deviation
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:icond3ad-mad-hatt3r:
D3AD-MAD-HATT3R Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
I'm glad you enjoyed it. My next series will be something a little different.
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:iconrjdubbya:
rjdubbya Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
cool... i will catch that one from the beginning then! :)
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:iconmelancholita:
Melancholita Featured By Owner Aug 6, 2016   Traditional Artist
Hm, certainly good written. The end itself is also fitting in my opinion. Just the reveals from Alice's past are indeed a bit much because they explain everything. Being a bit more subtle there and leaving some mysteries around her would have maybe been more beneficial if you get what I mean. At least to me, I like having some spaces left which I can fill with my imagination. Nevertheless, I enjoyed your short story a lot!
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:icond3ad-mad-hatt3r:
D3AD-MAD-HATT3R Featured By Owner Aug 6, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Perhaps I should rewrite it, but it's a bit late now. Still, I might. I left her eyes out though.
Still, it's a lot of detail.
Thanks. I appreciate the honesty :)
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:iconmelancholita:
Melancholita Featured By Owner Aug 6, 2016   Traditional Artist
Nah I wouldn't rewrite it. Just a thing to keep in mind for future projects which I hope will come soon!
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:icond3ad-mad-hatt3r:
D3AD-MAD-HATT3R Featured By Owner Aug 6, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
I've been thinking about stories to do after this, so hopefully I'll have one coming soon. I may post a journal with the titles and the general themes to help me focus on a specific one.
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:iconmuttmix:
MuttMix Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
A fitting end.  Sad as it was, I enjoyed it.
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:icond3ad-mad-hatt3r:
D3AD-MAD-HATT3R Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you. Was it a good ending?
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:iconmuttmix:
MuttMix Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Yes sir, it was!
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:icond3ad-mad-hatt3r:
D3AD-MAD-HATT3R Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you. I was afraid I over did it with the reveal of Alice's past.
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