text: (WP) Evil Lives Here When the Gavindales lost their oldest child, a young woman named Diana, the neighborhood banded together to find her, her parents and brothers praying that they would find her alive, unharmed. The search for one of the community’s brightest stars continued for more than a year, and eventually, everyone lost interest, distracted by the latest instance of scandal. But the family had never healed from their loss; Mrs. Gavindale held a press conference, begging whoever had taken her little girl to return her to where she belonged. Milk cartons, a special on the local news station, radio talks; everything they’d tried hadn’t worked. But still, they refused to give up. “I know Diana is out there, alive. I don’t know how to explain it,” Alicia murmured to her friends, still a beauty even after two years had passed. “She will return to us, I know it.” \*\* Mrs. Gavindale was on the porch, indulging in her after-dinner cigarette, when a police car pulled up in front of the house, lights painting the young woman’s face blue and red. An officer in uniform stepped out of the car, and a shadow followed, hidden by the man’s bulk. “Good evening, ma’am. Is this the house of the Gavindale family?” “Yes, officer,” The housewife replied, her face obscured by a thick, gray cloud of fragrant smoke. “Is everything all right?” “I bring your family good news, ma’am. It’s your daughter, Diana. I’ve come to give her back to you. The poor thing was as cold as death, and we fed her a meal and had her take a shower before she came home.” Diana stepped into the light, silent, staring at Mrs. Gavindale. “Mom... I’m home.” \*\* The silence of my night was shattered by the sound of the front door closing with a bang; I was engrossed in a book I was reading, and dropped it on my bed. “Heather! Heather, your sister’s home!” My mother’s joyful shriek hung in the air, and it took me a moment to process what she said. Diana? Diana was home? After two years of God knew what? I didn’t know what to think. “Heather, come down here!” “I’m coming, Mom!” I called back, exiting my room and walking down the stairs. There was no denying it, now that we were face to face. This was indeed my sister, the one I’d worshipped and admired my whole life. But when she looked up at me, her eyes were holes boring in my face, and her dark hair was in a long, sleek braid, her olive skin bruised around the wrists. When she noticed I was looking, she anxiously pulled down the sleeve of the thin jacket she was wearing, despite the cold. Mom, meanwhile, was busy brushing tears from her face, smiling benevolently. “I always knew you would come home to us. Where have you been all this time, Diana? Why didn’t you call us? We... We thought you were dead!” “I... I met someone,” Diana replied, and she smiled at our mother; her eyes darted to me, and they flashed bright red. “And I got distracted.” “We can talk about where you’ve been later.” Mom said, brushing away the weak excuses like she was swatting at a particularly bothersome fly. The night seemed to pass in a blur; though Diana had eaten already, and had said as much, Mom insisted on cooking dinner for us, and she refused to let either of us out of her sight until close to bedtime. Diana snuck out of her room and stood at the threshold of mine, peering in with eyes that were curious, even hungry. “Long time no see, sis,” She said, smirking at me. “How have you been doing these past couple years? Got a job, a boyfriend?” “You’re the one who decided to run off to God knows where without telling anyone, Di,” I replied, on my guard. I wasn’t sure why, but this was not my sister; an impostor, somehow, but I didn’t dare say it, not until I had more proof. Diana shrugged. “So a girl isn’t allowed to grow up? Come on, Heather.” Her sleeve slipped upwards again, and she frowned, her brow knitting. Before she could grab her sleeve, I spotted a bright green four-leaf clover on her wrist. “Do you have a tattoo?” I asked her, incredulous. That cemented it in my mind; this was not my sister. Diana had always hated tattoos, and hadn’t been shy about making it known, either. “It’s none of your business, Heather. You’re a kid. You wouldn’t understand.” “You’re so full of shit, Di. You may have fooled Mom, but you can’t fool me.” “Not exactly the warmest welcome, little sister. I would’ve thought you’d be happy to see me.” “I would be, if you were really my sister.” I shot back, walking over to her and looking down at her; I felt a bit of spiteful pride, that I was a few inches taller than she was. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but you’re not Diana. My sister hates tattoos.” There was a tense, pregnant pause, and then the thing taking my sister’s body for a ride smirked so widely that her eyes became mere slits. “What do you know? A human who actually pays attention. Messing with you will be fun.” I’d never believed in things like angels, demons, or God; they were distant, arbitrary ideas that had little to do with me; our family was not religious. But for the first time, a dark, cold flame was born in my heart, turning my blood to ice. “Well, good night, little sis. And remember... This is our little secret.” The monster put my sister’s hand to her lips, and my throat closed up; I was unable to speak.