I find myself walking through the same path in the middle of the forest that leads to the cottage. My fury now mostly diminished, but revenge is cursing through my veins. Perhaps, confronting the assassin of my father and un-want child at this very moment doesn't seem wise, but what else can I do to take my mind off Lucifer? This will be good for me, I just know it.

As soon as I walk through the doors of the cottage the engulfing smell of spicy erotic cinnamon fills my senses. Strangely, it makes the space feel like home, like I am no intruder to this place. But there is an impostor here. Nina. And if I remember correctly the entry to his intensely intricate torture room is right under the carpet.

I slide out of my jacket, throwing it carelessly onto the sofa before kneeling down to lift the corner of the carpet on the creaky old floors. As expected, the door is right here.

Once I open it and I am met with the same concrete stairs as before my phone begins to ring. Without even looking at who the caller is, I know that it's Lucifer. I reach my hand to the back pocket of my jeans, declining the phone call and turning my phone on silent.

Shoving the phone back into my jeans, I begin stepping down the cold slippery steps to the torture room. It feels too quiet walking down this murky hall. It is a forbidden den, one that belongs to the Devil. It might as well be an area of Hell where humans have access to. Except the only human that knows about this is me.

Once I reach the glass window, I don't dare take a peek inside, not until I open the door and even now my eyes refuse to go up and look her in the face. I isn't scared. She has already done the worst she can possibly do. But I am in a way intimidated. After all she is a demon, and one that is probably stronger than me.

Taking a few hesitant steps forward, I finally allow my eyes to look up at Nina. Her body almost lifeless. I am surprised that seeing her chained to a chair with multiple half healed wounds all over her body, doesn't bring me any distress.

I walk even closer to her, noticing that there are small steel looking knives slicing in the middle of her hands and feet in crucifixion, holding them in place. I gulp loudly at the sight of it, black paint, freshly oozed out of those abrasions. Though, not even the metallic smell of the room is bothering me anymore.

I don't say a word to her, but simply wait for her to sluggishly lift her head up to look back at me, the veins in her eyes popped, turning her eyes into a cocktail of strawberries and liquorice.

"You back for more?" she asks with a throaty voice.

Instinctively I let out a snort. Does she really still have the ability to be such a bitch, in her current state?

"I'm here to ask you something, I don't expect you to tell me everything, after all you are a murderous demon who lies and deceives, but you have to be honest in what you do chose to tell me."

She tries to chuckle but winces in pain as blood oozes out of her mouth, sopping down the sides. She looks like a helpless child, and no matter how hard I look, I can't find any empathy within me for her.

"What's in it for me?" she asks, spitting onto the floor directly in the direction of my feet.

I take a step back, crossing my arms in front of my chest, never breaking any eye contact with her.

"I'll persuade Lucifer to let you go, on the additional condition that you never come near us again, torture whoever you want, just not us," I deal with her.

I know I have to reason with her to coax her to tell me what I want to know, but I am not naïve to know that Lucifer will never allow this sort of barging to see the daylight. A little white lie won't harm me if it will get me where I want to be.

"And how do I know you're not lying?" she asks trying to raise her bruised eyebrow.

I sigh loudly before walking right up to her and taking out one of the knives in her foot, making her gasp from the sudden release. I hold it up in the air, the blood trickling down and covering my hand. It's warm almost burning my flesh, and pasty sticking to me like it's trying to attach itself to my soul.

"You tell me the truth and the rest of your restraints get removed, call this consideration for our deal," I tell her. It is a risky move on my behalf, but I feel obliged to do it anyway.

"Fine, what is it you want to know?" she asks, intrigue hidden behind her bloodshot eyes as she cocks her head to the side, staring me up and down in mock disgust. I don't let it bother me.

"I remember you said that I isn't supposed to be pregnant when you attacked my dad and I, what did you mean by that?"

There is a moment of reserve that fills the room. Is she contemplating of what to say? Or is she thinking of the most believable lie to tell me?

"From the very beginning you were never supposed to have a child with him, you were never even supposed to be with him, otherwise I would have left you and father alone. It would have been easier to get Asmodeus what he and I want, but then I thought...wouldn't it be such a fabulous opportunity to get revenge on my family?"

My eyes are fixated on Nina's face. What in the world does she mean? A million possibilities are running through my mind right now, none of which make any sense to me.

"What do you mean family?" I finally ask.

"I'm your sister, Elizabeth."

My throat begins to hurt, stinging me, scratching at my windpipe. I open my mouth and exhale, but my jaw begins to tremble.

"Lizzie?" I voice but the sound that comes out of my mouth sounds barely audible and shattered.

I clench my teeth together, grazing them against one another like a cutting saw. She just has to be playing on my mind, my emotions to manipulate me.

"If you really are Lizzie, never mind how that is even possible, why would you kill dad?" I let out the question with great difficulty.

"Why!" she laughs painfully in my face. "Because I is sexually assaulted for an entire year and nobody noticed! A parent is supposed to see these things, but dad never did, so I took matters into my own hands, I killed the rapist stabbing him to death, but you got in the way, taking the bloody knife away from me and then dad came in and thought it is you, so I let that be. I ever forged his hand to write you that letter, did you get it? Oh, I do hope you did."

"That letter I found in dad's stuff, that is you?" I ask surprised at her trickery. I'm in disbelief to the lengths that she is going to.

"Yes, I guess my little sister isn't the murderer she grew up to believe she is, but then again, perhaps that might change tonight," she says proudly.

I guess my dad is innocent in this situation after all. Guilt trips me as I remember the vengeance, I felt towards him when I read that letter, but know I know it isn't him, even though all the curves of the L's and A's were exactly the same.

"Let's get this straight then, you are telling me that you are Lizzie, my dead sister who decided to take revenge on me and dad all because we didn't know you were being assaulted?" I ask quizzically.

My mind is trying its hardest to put the puzzle together, but there is so much to take in it feels impossible.

She nods her head like she is proud of herself.

"Then how in the world can you become a demon? It makes no sense?" I asked sounding frustrated at my confusion.

"You see, the mental and physical mark that is left on me after the assault is too much to bear, and because I murdered and because suicide is considered such a huge sin, I ended up in Hell. Asmodeus is there to greet me and things just moved very quickly. He saved me from eternal torture, hidden away from Lucifer where we planned, together, how to overthrow him. We fell in love Ana! I can be his Queen of Hell, don't you get that, that's the least I deserve for what I've been through!" she tells me, passions radiating from her speech. She almost looks like a stereotypical manic person on drugs.

In this given moment I do feel sorry for my sister. She is sexually abused for so long and none of us noticed. We didn't see the signs. But she should have come forward. She should have told us. Told me. Yet she blames us for everything. That I cannot feel sorry for. She has pushed the boundaries too far.

"But Asmodeus is dead," I presumably lie to get her back. Her entire demeanour changes. Gone is her crazy smile which turned into stone as she looks at me in shock.

"You see Lucifer killed him for what he did to me, my dad, to his authority, so what will you live for now? I of all people know that the death of a love one means that there is no worth living any longer, you seep deep into a depression that you can never get out of," I say to her.

Tears begin to pool in her eyes. I get a sudden flashback of what it looked like when I is a child and she cried when she scraped her limbs. Perhaps, this is my sister. But something changed in her so much that the things she has done to me and my family are beyond unjustifiable.

In that moment, my own words and thoughts make me realise exactly what I have to do to make myself feel okay again. to allow the past to be the past without it coming back to haunt me ever again. in walking life, or in my dreams.

"I don't think you'll be able to survive. Your all alone. And Lucifer will only torment you for all eternity, each one more creative than the last. He'll seek to it that you never reunite with Asmodeus for whatever comes after the death of a demon," I say to her cynically, taking a few steps towards her, bending down and removing the other knife from her foot, throwing it across the room. The steel material rattling against the dirty concreate floor.

I stand up to my feet dropping the other knife I is holding in my hand all this time. Hovering over my sister in a form of dominance I never know I can find within myself.

"But I can help you out with it, ensuring you see him again," I continue, walking around to remove the heavy chain from around her upper body.

Walking around back to see her face, she looks confused, but it's hard to read her emotions.

"There's only one thing you'd have to do," I inform her as I remove the knife from her left hand, letting it roam free.

I move to the final knife on her other hand, I remove it slower than the others. Twisting the blade, a little as to cause more scuffs to her wound. Once both hands are fully free, I hold the knife in front of her.

"Kill yourself," I tell me, zero remorse within me. and that's okay, my sister already killed herself once, this time I'm just making sure she stay dead, like the timeline intended it to be.

Hesitantly, and much to my surprise she takes the knife from my hand, clutching it so hard the blood from her wounds oozes out and rips onto her lap, dust covered ragged clothes. She stares at it in disbelief then looks up at me with a raised eyebrow.

"What makes you think I won't take the knife to you instead?" she asks, cocking her head to the side again. smirking a little.

"Because you've done enough. We were wrong for not noticing what is happening to you, and I'm so sorry for that Lizzie," I say to her sympathetically,

"But you've crossed the boundaries with me. You murdered our dad and my child. You might as well have killed me, or at least a part of me. It is an unequal retaliation. So, now it's your turn to strike it even," I say sternly but it prompts her to abruptly stand to her feet, with a masculine sounding grunt. She wobbles a little, but quickly finds her balance.

I hold my hand up to stop her from chagrining into me, then crossing them in front of me.

"You owe me that Elizabeth!" I yell at her coldly. Closing my eyes briefly to stop the tears from burning my eyes. In a way I am killing my sister. But this is the only way.

"This is me being kind, Lucifer wouldn't give you the easy way out, but I am, so take it while you can."

Just then we hear a loud slam of the door. Naturally, I twist head around and see that the door to the torture room is still closed. This means that either Lucifer or Skyler has entered the cottage. I have limited time left in here before they get down.

When I turn my head back around to look at Lizzie, she has empathy written all over in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispers before slicing the knife against her throat in the same exact way she did when she killed our dad.

Watching her drop to the ground choking on her own blood, staring at me while whatever is left of her soul is set free, something clicked in me. I didn't feel sad about this. I felt relived. This Nina demon isn't my sister.

Elizabeth Bennet died by suicide, fifteen years ago.