The older woman glanced down at the body as if it were a rug out of place, tutting at the blood that poured onto the white carpet.
"You really mustn't play around with murder, my dear." She said, addressing the younger girl. as she adjusted the straps on her smart, leather handbag. "It isn't civil."
The girl twisted the bloody knife in her hands, a playful look on her face.
"But, mother, it is ever so fun." Her creamy white dress was stained deep scarlet and spots of the victims blood speckled her face, but she was completely indifferent to the fact that the body of an innocent woman was at her feet and the weapon that killed her was in her very hands.
"Well look what you've done to the carpet, Eliza." Her mother said sternly, fixing her daughter with a hard stare. "You must stop with this nonsense, it's probably not healthy for you, I'm sure there are studies that confirm this."
The girl raised a blood splattered eyebrow. "Oh, mother, I do contradict your statement." She glanced over at the next victim, who was trembling uncontrollably and had skin as pale as a corpse. She gave him a terrifying, shark-like grin with a dangerous glint in her eye.
"How can it be dangerous when it feels so. . ." She clutched the knife in her hands as if imagining slowly, agonisingly sinking it into the gut of another innocent person. "So satisfying?"
"Eliza, get rid of that peasant!" She spat at her daughter, throwing a jerky nod filled with contempt at the stranger sitting in their posh living room, staring wide-eyed at the body as if it were the only thing that existed in the world. Eliza noticed and shook her head, a threatening grin still plastered across her face. "Even when she is dead, he still only has eyes for his beloved wife." She whispered, her eyes staring icily at him. "How sweet."