The air in Jennifer's room was thick. A charged atmosphere still floated in it, and a strange aroma permeated everything.
Jennifer was curled up in Lief's arms, completely languid, like someone who, after being fed to satiety, has been left without a single bone in their body. Her breathing was deep and stable, a warm murmur against his chest.
On her pale skin, especially on her neck and shoulders, a delicate blush still persisted.
When her eyelids finally fluttered and opened, those blue eyes, usually devouring, had recovered a glimmer of clarity. However, the mist of fatigue and absolute satiety that swam in them made them, if possible, even more hypnotic.
"Master…" her voice was barely a whisper, a thread of breath, "I... think that... I can't take anymore…"
It was a declaration of total exhaustion, a surrender.
Lief lowered his gaze toward her. His face was impassive, but inside, he was analyzing the experience.
He could still feel the echo of the connection, the addictive sensation that had shot between them before returning to a state of calm.
He had just experienced, firsthand, what his "exchange" really meant.
It had not been just a physical act, it had been something deeper. He had felt waves of his own life force, pure and inexhaustible, flowing from him toward her, like a river pouring into a pond. And in exchange, he had felt the reflux: a completely different energy, warmer, peculiar, with an intoxicating nuance that could only be her essence, flowing back toward him.
It was, without a doubt, a transaction in which both won. Jennifer obtained the sustenance she needed to grow, to be. And Lief, in turn, could feel how that return energy settled in his own body, strengthening him in a subtle, but definitive way.
Only that...
'Is that your limit?'
Lief shook his head with slight dissatisfaction.
His own endurance seemed inexhaustible. The energy he had released, the flow he had let out toward her, but it had been nothing more than a drop of water in an ocean.
It felt as if he had barely opened the faucet.
She, on the other hand...
She was like a delicate and empty crystal glass. And he had tried to fill her from a torrent. With just an instant of charge, she was already overflowing, completely saturated to the point of cracking.
"Sigh…"
He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead with a deliberate softness. Then, with care, he lifted her just enough to settle her better in the bed, covering her with the sheet.
Jennifer did not move.
The impact of the energy transfer had been so intense that her body had simply shut down to process it.
After surrendering, she had fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep, a biological defense mechanism necessary to assimilate what she had just received.
Her breathing was rhythmic, and the blush on her cheeks gave her a deceptively innocent look, very far from the hungry creature she had been a few minutes ago.
Lief watched her a moment longer and his pulse did not accelerate, his heart remained in an absolute calm.
"Rest," he murmured, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
He did not stay any longer. He turned around, left the apartment and closed the door softly, leaving his "project" to evolve in the darkness.
Now came the difficult part of the day: returning home and seeing what was left of it.
...
The trip back was quiet, but Lief's mind was working calculating probabilities. What would he find upon opening the door? Screams? Blood on the walls? His parents calling the police because the girls had disappeared?
With those three, any apocalyptic scenario was plausible.
He put the key in the lock, turned the knob preparing for the impact and pushed the door.
What received him was so unexpected that, for a second, he thought he had the wrong house.
There was no blood.
There were no screams.
There was no fire.
In the living room, the TV was on, emitting the soft glow of some cartoons. The volume was low, respectful, creating a hypnotic background buzz.
On the main rug, someone had spread a padded play blanket with prints of strawberries and bunnies. And there, in the center of that idyllic scene, were the three of them.
Lillith, Esther, and Emma were sitting in a circle, with their legs crossed.
In front of them was a miniature porcelain tea set, one of those that look like toys but cost a fortune: a delicate teapot, tiny cups on their saucers, and a three tiered tray full of fresh strawberries and butter cookies in the shape of bears.
"Oh, let me pour you a little more, dear." Lillith's voice broke the silence.
She held the small teapot with an aristocratic elegance and poured strawberry milk into Esther's cup with extreme care.
Her expression was the definition of serenity; a soft smile, and her eyes shined with a sweetness that would have fooled the Pope himself.
"Be careful, Esther" she warned with a solicitous tone, "we don't want it to spill, right?"
By her side, Emma was completely into her role. She took one of the bear shaped cookies and, with a radiant and innocent smile that showed her white teeth, held it up to Esther's mouth.
"Come on, big sister!" insisted Emma, "You have to try this one. Mom bought them at the bakery downtown. They are to die for!"
And in the middle of them was Esther.
The "adult" trapped in the body of a girl was sitting with her back so straight that it looked like her spine was going to break. She had her hands clenched on her knees and her knuckles white from the tension.
"..."
She looked at the cookie that Emma was pushing against her lips, then looked at the milk that Lillith was pouring her, and on her face a smile was drawn… very forced.
It was the smile of a hostage who knows that there is a sniper aiming at her head and that her life depends on acting naturally.
"Thank you, Lillith... Thank you, Emma…" Her voice came out a little high pitched, but she forced herself to maintain the tone, "You are... you are too kind to me."
The scene was a masterpiece.
It was warm. It was harmonious. It was full of a "deep sisterly affection". It looked like an illustration taken from a storybook, one of those where children are always good and the sun always shines.
Any parent who entered at that moment would have put their hands to their chest, moved to tears by how quickly their daughters had connected.
Lief stood petrified with his hand still resting on the knob of the open door, feeling that a vein was beginning to throb dangerously in his right temple.
"..."
He remained silent, unable to immediately process the image he had in front of him.
What the hell was happening here?
For a moment, he seriously considered the possibility of having crossed a dimensional portal upon opening the door.
Or maybe he had entered the film set of a family comedy from the fifties.
It had to be a joke!
Just a few hours ago, the tension in that house was so dense it could be cut with a knife. These three were about to tear each other apart…
And now... what was this? The "Mini Villains' Tea Time"?
Lief closed the door slowly behind him, without taking his eyes off them, and dedicated himself to analyzing the picture.
First he looked at Lillith. Her performance was, simply, impeccable.
That expression of sweetness, the submissive and attentive tilt of the head, the delicate way in which she served the tea... there was not a single flaw. If anyone saw her from the outside, they would swear that she was born to be the perfect big sister, the embodiment of innocence and responsibility.
But Leif knew the truth.
He knew that, beneath that porcelain mask and exquisite manners, lay the absolute coldness of an ancient demon. This performance was not an effort for her, it was the pastime of a superpredator having fun playing with its food before devouring it.
Then there was Emma.
She was the one who hid it the least, and paradoxically, the one who seemed the most genuine.
She laughed, and her laugh sounded truly happy. But Leif noticed the nuance: that joy did not come from a sudden "sisterly love" nor from the warmth of the home. No, Emma was radiant because she found the game incredibly fun.
She looked at Lillith and then at Esther with a shine in her eyes, a mix of adoration and excitement. It was the look of someone who has finally found her equals... someone who has discovered a playground where normal rules do not apply.
She was enjoying the farce, delighting in the shared lie.
And finally, there was Esther. The only real "spectator" in this theater of the absurd.
Her smile was a masterpiece of tragedy... it was rigid, tense. Beneath that layer of shyness and forced gratitude, Leif could see the pure terror, a submission born of the survival instinct. Esther looked exactly like what she was: a rabbit trapped in a cage with a tiger and a hyena, forced to play house while praying that they don't decide it is dinner time.
Leif let out a long sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose.
What a scene.
He had in his living room a Hollywood level method actress, a little lunatic delighted with the chaos and a prisoner of war trembling with fear.
Honestly, the Film Academy should start sending the statuettes already, because the level of acting on this strawberry rug was worthy of an Oscar for best picture.
"Ahem!"
Leif cleared his throat deliberately loud to break the spell that seemed to have fallen over the room.
!
The movements of the three stopped in unison and then, with a disturbing synchronization, the three heads turned simultaneously toward him.
In a fraction of a second, the masks adjusted and the expressions changed.
"Brother!" exclaimed Lillith, the first to react, and her smile widened until it became radiant.
"Leif, you're back!" squealed Emma waving her hand enthusiastically from the floor.
Esther, for her part, jumped to her feet, smoothing her dress with nervous hands.
"Brother…" she murmured, lowering her gaze shyly.
Leif took off his shoes at the entrance and walked toward the living room, carefully dodging the edge of the strawberry mat so as not to step on the "idyllic" tea setting.
He stopped for a moment, observing the display of manufactured innocence.
"What are you playing?" he asked, but it was not a real question, he knew the answer, or at least, he knew that the answer they would give him would be a lie.
"We are just helping our new sister feel at home," answered Lillith without missing a beat, lifting her angelic little face with an expression of absolute virtue, "Mom said it was important that we get along and become a real family. So we are practicing."
While she spoke, she reached out and took Esther's hand, intertwining their fingers with a gesture of possessive affection.
"..."
Leif clearly saw how Esther's body went rigid at the contact, as if she had just touched a high voltage wire. However, the "big sister" forced a trembling smile and nodded, fulfilling her role.
"Yes…" Esther's voice came out a little strangled, "Lillith and Emma are... are very good little sisters."
Upon seeing that expression of contained panic and feigned gratitude that made it look like she was about to burst into tears, Leif felt a wave of second hand fatigue.
'Poor devil'
"Oh, really?" He commented despite his thoughts.
He didn't say anything else and walked to the large sofa, dropped heavily and leaned back, letting the cushions absorb the weight of his body.
He closed his eyes for a second and exhaled.
Honestly, he had no intention of intervening.
Really, he didn't.
He made a quick cost-benefit calculation: as long as these three didn't demolish the structure of the house, as long as there were no corpses to hide and as long as they didn't get him into a legal problem of biblical proportions, what they did in private with their little power games didn't give a damn to him.
If he thought about it coldly, this was even positive. It was a kind of ecological balance, a Pax Romana imposed by force.
Having Lillith, who was basically the final boss of the video game, keeping the other two at bay, was infinitely easier to manage than having three independent entities sowing chaos on their own. If the price of peace in the house was that Esther had to suffer a couple of terrifying tea parties under Lillith's supervision... well, it was a price he was willing to pay.
"Brother?"
Leif opened one eye.
Emma was standing in front of him, holding one of the toy cups with both hands, as if it were a sacred offering, looking at him with eyes full of a shining expectation.
"Do you want some milk?"
?
Leif lowered his gaze toward the cup no bigger than a thimble, full to the brim with a thick pink liquid.
"..."
He looked at Emma, then at the cup.
With a sigh of resignation, he reached out. He used only his index finger and thumb to grab the tiny handle and brought the cup to his lips.
He drank the contents in a single gulp.
Emma watched him without blinking, waiting for his verdict.
Leif left the empty cup delicately on the coffee table and leaned back again, maintaining his expression completely neutral.
"Mmm~ Delicious."
"Hee hee hee!"
Emma let out a giggle of triumph, and ran back to her place on the rug.
"..."
Leif stayed looking at them a second longer.
God, what exhaustion…
His mind flew involuntarily toward the apartment he had just left. Compared to this, dealing with Jennifer was a walk in the park.
Yes, sure, Jennifer was a succubus with the biological potential to leave him dry in the future, but at least she was... simple.
She was direct. She had basic instincts: feed, sleep, obey. And, let's be honest, she was a spectacularly sensual woman who did not require four dimensional chess mind games.
But these three...
This was another level. Each of them was a method actress competing for the spotlight, and each one was exponentially more dangerous than the previous one. It was like living in a house full of explosives with random timers.
"Well" he said standing up abruptly. Staying a second longer submerged in this atmosphere of toxic saccharin was going to end his patience, "You keep... playing."
He stretched, making his back crack.
"I am tired. I am going to my room to rest a while before Dad and Mom arrive."
He turned and headed toward the stairs, dragging his feet with a fatigue he did not have to fake.
"Bye, brother!" hummed Lillith behind his back.
"Rest well, Leif!" added Emma with enthusiasm.
"Bye... brother" whispered Esther, fulfilling her part.
Leif didn't even bother to look back. He simply raised a hand while he went up.
"Don't stay up too late" He warned with a carefree tone but one that carried an implied warning, "And try not to leave the house a mess, okay?"
He reached the floor above, entered his room and closed the door.
Boom
The sound of the closing acted like a final switch.
Downstairs, in the living room, the change was instantaneous. It was as if someone had lowered the temperature of the room ten degrees at once. Even the sound of the cartoons on the television seemed to become more irrelevant.
Lillith's angelic smile evaporated from her face.
Her features relaxed into a mask of total indifference. She raised her own cup, which was still full, and drank the strawberry milk in a single gulp, with the cold efficiency of someone drinking a shot of vodka, not a childish drink.
Emma, for her part, did not stop smiling. But the quality of her smile mutated. The innocence drained away, making way for that twisted, excited and deeply disturbing grimace that was her true face.
She turned her head slowly toward Esther, "Sister…" she whispered dragging the syllables, "Brother is gone. But the game has not ended yet."
Esther felt her blood freeze in her veins.
________
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