Jay barely had time to push back from the table before the flash of steel drove into his chest. The force knocked the air out of him—pain and heat bursting through his ribs. His wine glass shattered against the floor, red spilling across the tiles like blood racing to join his own.
Elisha's smile didn't falter. She stood slowly, the dim kitchen light sliding across her figure like a predator emerging from shadow.
"It's such a shame you didn't remember me, Jay," she said, her tone warm but vibrating with something unhinged. "I gave you everything back then. The way I always stood on your left so you could write without bumping elbows. The way I remembered your coffee order better than you did. The way I made sure every case report we worked on had your name first."
Her eyes narrowed, and the warmth in her tone curdled. "And not once did any of it ring a bell for you? No. It's Mary's fault. If she was out of the picture, maybe you'd have chosen me back then."
At some point, a faint recognition flickered in Jay's eyes—like a shadow stirring in the deep. It was small, almost hesitant, but Elisha saw it. For that fleeting heartbeat, his pupils shrank, his lips parted as if the truth had finally broken through the fog.
She took a slow step forward, the blade of her shadow stretching over him.
"Crazy, isn't it? I went out of my way to join the detective force just to be side by side with you. Every day. Every case. And you still looked right through me."
Her voice dropped to a dangerous hush. "But if I can't have you…" Her eyes glinted with fever. "…no one can."
Jay gasped, choking on iron. His fingers clawed uselessly at the wound, his knees giving way. The kitchen swam in and out of focus, as he desperately crawled with his strength. But, his wound was vital, and he was losing blood drastically.
Steadily, Elisha walked and knelt beside him, her face close, her breath warm against his ear. "I killed her for you, Jay. Slit her throat so you could finally have me all to yourself. But it seems you kept a little too much of her alive inside you. And I'm tired of waiting."
Blood flecked his lips as he rasped, "You… won't… get away with this. My blood… on your hands. And your dress."
Elisha didn't respond. Instead, She leaned in casually, drew jay's face in close and kissed him. The kiss was slow, and deliberate, morbidly intertwining their lips and soaking in saliva and blood. She tasted iron, warm and thick on her tongue, but far more intoxicating was the taste of Jay's fading soul—his life force, surrendering beneath her lips. Jay, however, tasted only fear. His eyes grew wider, the whites quivering with a desperate, silent scream.
The faint sound of music swelled in the background, a haunting melody that wrapped around them like a mockery of romance.
Jay stared at Elisha with wide eyes, trembling. He was bleeding, dying and the one responsible was violating him... upon being the killer of his wife. None of it made sense, and it didn't matter if it: because in the next moment after Elisha slowly unlocked her lips from his, a red tainted silver sharp steel flashed. And then—a knife drove into Jay's skull from the side. His body jolted once, twice, and the light dimmed from his blue eyes, turning them into lifeless, deep pools of dark ocean. His body went slack, and just like that, Jay died.
Then, Elisha arose and walked over to the counter. Picking up her glass of wine to finish her drink, she tilted her head toward the mirror. Right there she saw a woman—a stellar figure. With zero emotion from her being, she calmly examined herself. Her black hair was disheveled, lips smeared with a dead man's blood. Her vermilion tailored outfit looked like fire incarnate, now painted in deeper red—the mingling of its own dye, spilled wine, and her lover's blood.
Expressionless, she stared back at herself. Those hollow onyx eyes held nothing but an abyss. Her face was cold, drained, measured, and fearing. But worst of all—calm.
Then, just before she finally finished her wine glass and set it aside, the surface of her stillness cracked. Her lips curled slightly into a smile—a dangerous one.
Her gaze lingered from the mirror onto Jay's lifeless body. In an upbeat tone, she said:
"Well, you said it, didn't you? I always looked better in red."