Inherited memories

What is the relationship between us? The question rang in my head for the following days.

The corridor had been scrubbed clean of the bloody mess. I never saw who did it but at least the blood was gone. I was lying on the bench in the garden outside the dining room, trying not to think about that man slaughter when a crow landed beside me. I turned to look at it. It felt strange to see a living thing after so long, even a crow.

I began to hum, slowly and softly, a tune that grew familiar the longer I listened. I closed my eyes, trying to recall where I had heard it.

"That's my favorite melody."

She stood over me. The crow flew to the tree beside the bench. She still wore the dark stained dress from that day, stiff at the hem. I noticed that her hands were clean today, that was a pleasant change since she was refusing to wash off the blood. Taking my arm she pulled me off the bench.

I followed her inside while she danced her way down the corridor. We entered an enormous room that held a single piano. She sat me down in front of it.

"Play it."

"Excuse me?"

"Play the melody. I want to dance." She took my face in one hand and squeezed. When she let go, there was no laughter in her eyes.

"I never learned to..."

"You always could." Her glare held me still.

Was my father's cousin a pianist, or one of the other ancestors? From her tone, it must have been one of them. I looked at the keys. I wished she knew that I was someone new.

My fingers found a key and pressed it. Then the next, then another. Before I knew it, I was playing the melody I had been humming, my hands moving swiftly from one key to the next, effortlessly.

How?

She began to turn, her skirt flaring behind her as her arms and legs moved with an elegance that made my chest ache. Between steps, she glanced at me and smiled. I played, and she danced, it was a moment worth cherishing.

"You see?" she said, over the music. "You always could."

I smiled and nodded. But how could she know that I would be able to play? Skill isn't something you inherit. Perhaps she had cast a spell over me, the way she'd made the amulet appear from nowhere. It had to be magic. There was no other explanation.

She hugged me from behind, and her fangs scraped against my skin. I flinched but didn't move. I stopped playing and put a hand on her head.

She lifted her face, her cheeks flushed. "There's a sweet fruit I want you to try. I'll get it."

"For me?"

She nodded and kissed the place on my neck where she had bitten me. When I turned to look at her, she was gone.

I walked back to my room. I took the long corridors without a single wrong turn. I had no idea when I'd learned them, or how. Perhaps I was, in fact, a genius.

In my room, I went to bathe. It was always uncomfortable with her around, since she had no sense of privacy, and I was glad she was away. I took off my clothes and the family amulet. It felt so good to be without it, light and clear.

When I came out, she was already back, holding something like an apple.

"You're back fast. I decided to bathe." I walked over and took her hand.

She slapped it away.

My heart sank. "W-what happened?"

She pointed at my neck. "The amulet."

"I took it off..."

She shoved me to the floor, and her eyes hovered over me as if I were prey. "This has happened twice now. I'll warn you once. Wear the amulet at all times, or you may have to die again."

She tossed the apple at me and walked past. I sat on the floor, blank. Why was that stone so important to her? When she said die again, she meant my ancestors, didn't she? Did she still believe we were all one person?

I was still lost in my thoughts when something slid across my neck. I grabbed it instinctively, my fingers closed around the stone.

"Relax. It's only the amulet." She had fastened it behind me, and now she stood with her hands on my shoulders. It was warm. The blankness drained out of me like water from a basin, and I tilted my head back to look up at her.

"I love you." I hadn't decided to say it. The words came out already finished, in a voice slightly lower than mine.

"I love you too."

"Do you love this me?" The question left me without a second thought. I always wanted to know what she felt about me as a separate person not a collection of people acting as one.

"You've become very clingy."

That's all she had to say before leaving me alone in the room.

My days continued with her. I decided not to risk it and wore the amulet the entire time. I bathed in it. I slept in it. Slowly I grew so used to it that its weight felt natural.

The white figure I had seen the day I was chosen had slipped out of my mind. That day, I had assumed it was my wife. Over time I realized it was too masculine to be a woman, and I decided it was a ghost meant to choose the husband. Lately, the sight of that unearthly body hovering before me kept coming into my dreams. I didn't know why, but I had begun to hate it.

I took a bite of whatever she would serve me. Recently, I had come to like her cooking. My eyes traveled from the tablecloth to her, sitting across from me. She stuck out her tongue. "How do you even eat that? I'm not the best cook."

Her expression was so ordinary, so unlike the monster everyone said she was. "So you know you aren't a great chef."

She pouted and chuckled. "But at least you eat it." She narrowed her eyes and smiled, a canine flashing. "That's what matters to me."

"Madeline, I'd eat anything you gave me..." My breath hitched while sweat rolled down my cheek. The floor shook for a moment. Madeline? My body fell forward towards the plate, but she caught me. Madeline?

"Sorry. I—"

She pulled me against her chest and kissed my head. "I love it when you say my name."

I lay in her arms while a tremor ran through me. How could I know a name she had never told me? Was I inheriting memories from my ancestors?

Or was she doing this to me?

I pulled away and stared into her red eyes. "You..."

Her eyes locked on mine. "Yes?"

I shook my head and wrapped my arms around her. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, but after last time, it was better not to. Maybe I was clingier than all of them.