A coldness filled the warm, dark room. Not cold as in wind or air, but a feeling of death, gloom, loss. Jenny felt the cold blade rest against her warm, tender flesh. She’d bit her lip if her mouth wasn’t gagged. Tears stung her eyes but she could still see her surrounding, blurry or clear.
The fire crackled in the fireplace, giving the family room (if she would consider this a family) warmth and little light. Sitting on a rocking chair, gently rocking was her grandmother, chanting from a large book as if she was praying. Her white hair dwindled to almost nothing, her wrinkles deepened in the dim light. As she softly spoke, her lips caved in where her teeth were missing. In front of the rocking chair, like an obedient puppy, sat Jenny’s elder brother Jack. He was pale, almost as a corpse in a coffin, his eyes sullen and he was without a shirt. Hieroglyphics littered his body, and on his chest a crook and flail was proudly displayed.
The elderly grandmother stopped speaking, her eyes lifted from the book. Lightening flashed in the window, thunder shaking the foundation of the house. Jack went from an emotionless statue to a silent phantom of movement to his sister. She was only seven, but she attempted to break free of her bounds like an amazon. Nothing. She laid helpless as the blade that rested at ease on her side, was picked up for malicious intent. Dark eyes of a creature stared at her with her brother’s face. She was never afraid of Jack’s pale features, not until he started listening to their grandmother.
“The essence of sibling rivalry shall create the catalyst for your reincarnation,” the grandmother breathed, with whispered cackles. “Your ancient brother killed you in the previous life. Now take her life for yours to be returned.”
Jenny tried to scream, but the gag wouldn’t let her. She felt the sting as the blade traced her chest in the shape of a crook. The grandmother let out cackle madly as lightening flicked constantly as her blood began to drain. She began to read the book in her hand out loud. Jenny didn’t know what language it was for sure. Her blood smeared her brother’s face. He was just ten years old, but living on a farm gave him practice how to do bloodletting.
She began to drift on the edge of unconsciousness. She could hear a new sound, this time not thunder.
Police officers stormed into the room as Jenny’s eyes closed. Jack looked back at the officers, their guns withdrawn. He let out a smile, his teeth and gums dripped with the blood of his sister. The grandmother continued to chant. The police chief walked in, as if knowing what to expect. His round eyes went from the smiling Jack to the chanting grandmother. He just shook his head, as if ashamed. One of the officer’s checked the body of Jenny.
“We have a pulse, chief!”
“Chief, what are your orders?”
He didn’t answer. All he could do was look at the boy, who seemed contempt. He walked to Jack, who remained still.
“What’s your name, son?”
The grandmother laughed, “His name is Osiris! Osiris walks among us again!”