On October 31st, I was sent to the Kingsley estate to care for a child named Lilith. I had been searching for a job for months when I came across an advertisement in Birmingham, England at the local coffee shop. I never expected my life to take such a drastic change since I had just moved to Birmingham from Galway, Ireland. I was on my last drop of emergency funds after I escaped my wretched home where I was no longer welcomed. The advertisement appeared recently and untouched. The Kingsley family was searching for a babysitter on Halloween while they went away on a romantic retreat. The child was named Lilith and she was described as a well-rounded, easygoing eight-year-old child. There was no experience needed, and little information included in the ad, besides a phone number and a family portrait with a husband and wife and Lilith in the center. She was staring out in the distance ahead of her while her mother’s hand laid resting upon her shoulder. Her short, brown coils sprang from her head with a sweet innocent bow resting on top. Her paisley dress and pale skin made her look like a porcelain doll.  

When I got the flier, I walked to the nearest telephone box, and after a few rings the phone was immediately answered. In a deep monotone voice I heard, “Hello, this is Dorian Kingsley answering. How may I help you?” 

What a strange name for a father, I thought to myself. I took a deep breath in and with confidence I responded, “Hello, this is Alice Bewick calling in regard to the babysitting opportunity for Lilith on Halloween.”  

The phone fell silent for a brief moment, and I heard mumbling; the phone seemed to have been covered by the man’s hand. Following a cough he said, “Why yes, thank you for calling. Lilith is a special child, and she just requires you to keep her entertained for the day. The address is 13 Collinswood road, Kensington. I expect you to arrive at 7:00 a.m. sharp.”  

He hung up the phone without a proper goodbye, but I needed the opportunity so I knew I would show.  

I woke up at 4:00am to prepare, and the commute was an hour away. I slid on my finest pair of black stockings, with a short, black skirt, and a white peplum blouse. I paired the outfit with black Mary Janes, and I combed my blonde hair, the strands gliding smoothly as they draped over my chest bone. I quickly applied my makeup, brushed blush onto my face, darkened my eyes with a smokey shadow, and grazed my lips with the darkest rouge lipstick. I put a smile into the mirror, appearing polished and refined, but no matter the amount of blush, I could not fix my pale complexion. The time turned to 5:30 a.m., and I grabbed my purse and ran out the door, hoping to catch the nearest cab. Luckily, I succeeded in finding a cab and made my way to Kingsley’s estate.  

When I arrived, the road turned to dirt, then gravel, and I was met with a black, iron gate with gilded finials. The gate had an intricate pattern, and when I reached to touch the perched gargoyles, I spotted the gate opened with an eerie screech. There was a pathway ahead, leading to the gothic estate I spotted in the distance. As I had walked down the path, a chill ran down my spine with the sounds of crows encircling me above. I heard a faint whisper that stunned me, but I had to continue walking.  

“Alice,” I heard in a hissing tone.  

I turned and saw nothing but fog and the crows above.  

After a brief moment, I was met with the entrance of the estate, and it was the most eloquent infrastructure I had ever laid my eyes on. It was made of weathered stone with rose vines twisting up just below the arches. Black pillars stood on both sides of the entrance with a path of cobblestone leading to it. There was a garden outside the estate along the edges, but the flowers were withered and dead. I knocked on the arched wooden door, and I was greeted by a butler. 

“Greetings, Ms. Bewick. We have been expecting you. Right this way.” 

He led me into the foyer, and the inside was filled with ornate antiques. Gold gildings surrounded the walls, with paintings going back to the seventeenth century. The cherub sky ceiling medallion held the chandelier and to the right was a wooden spiral staircase with emerald carpet. The floors were black and white checkered and I caught a glimpse of the kitchen with black paint on the walls. The air felt stagnant, and I thought I felt something graze my hair.  

The husband, wife, and child came down the staircase dressed in the same attire I had seen on the flier.  

The father approached with his hand out. “Welcome, Ms. Bewick. We appreciate you coming at such a time. All we require is entertainment for our Lilith, and meals. We expect her to be in bed by dark, and no later.”  

His face was serious and emotionless. It was suspicious that I was given little information, and if I knew then what I know now, I would have fled before entering the estate.  

There Lilith was, standing in front of me so docile and still.  

“Hello, Alice. It is a pleasure to meet you. I love your lipstick.” She ran and hugged me so firmly I almost fell back.  

After a bit of discussion, the parents left, and I was left with Lilith and butler. We played for quite some time in the yard, and I made her a meal. As the hours flew by, I realized the butler was gone. She proceeded to give me a house tour, but would not let me see the west wing.  

“You may not go there, Alice. Nobody goes there. It has been run down and dirty since before I was born.”  

She spoke with such unnerving maturity, and I was curious to know why the west wing was blocked off. She held my hand throughout the whole tour, and something about her seemed so odd, but I found her to be like a sister in only a few hours. Until the evening approached.  

I went to use the lavatory, and when I washed my hands, I heard a crash. I ran as fast as I could to the kitchen where I heard the noise.  

“Lilith, what have you done?” My hands trembled, and my eyes froze open as I saw the horror in front of me. 

The butler laid lifeless on the ground with a gash in his throat. The blood trickled down his head creating a puddle. Lilith stared soullessly at the body with a broken, bloody plate in her hand. Blood was dripping everywhere on her face and hands. Her mouth was leaking drops of blood as if she ripped out his jugular with her own teeth.  

I ran to the nearest telephone to get help but the phone line was down. I tried going back to the kitchen to search for a phone, but once I arrived, the butler was gone. Lilith was eating sliced bananas with whipped cream on the same plate that was broken.  

I choked my words, “Lilith, where is the man? How is the floor clean? What is going on?”  

She giggled menacingly, “Alice, what are you talking about silly? I made myself a snack while you were gone. The sun is almost gone. You better get me to bed.”  

She grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs to get her ready for bed. Still stunned, I had no words, and I assumed I had imagined the whole thing. Maybe my family was right for assuming my insanity. But something about her face looked so different from the Lilith I met hours ago. Those docile, sapphire blue eyes turned dark, almost red even.

As I helped Lilith get changed for bed, I heard another faint whisper of my name. I turned and still could not decipher where that sound was coming from.  

It was nightfall, which meant I needed to put Lilith to sleep. I read her a bedtime story and her eyes sank to sleep.  

When I left her room, the estate was pitch black, so I lit a lantern. My curiosity swallowed me and I ventured towards the west wing. I opened the first door and instant regret flooded me. Bodies were laid on the floor, piling up on each other. Each of them looked like a reflection of myself with their blond hair, proper clothing, and rouge lipstick. And there the butler was in the corner of the room. The stench was so pungent I gagged. Before I could let out a scream I heard a faint whisper.  

“Alice.”  

I turned around and behind me there were two girls so identical I could not tell them apart. Lilith was not the only child I was in charge of tonight. She had a twin. The twins’ eyes matched the ones I had seen in the kitchen. The eyes of the devil.   

“What is going on here?” 

The twins encircled me in perfect synchrony, so gracefully, and I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I looked down and to my horror I was stabbed. One jab after another, they stabbed me, skipping in a circle, chanting, “Ring around the rosie.” It was over twenty times my body was stabbed, and my skin was being shredded by the second. It felt like a hot iron stick had been shoved through me, and I heard my ribs crack with every slice. I fell to the ground and my legs were each grabbed by the twins.  

Into the room, my lifeless body went with the others. They tossed me on top of the pile of bodies with supernatural strength. All I had wanted was to make extra money for a better place.  

Lilith reached into the pocket of my skirt to grab my rouge lipstick. She applied it and her twin snarled at her. They closed the door shortly after, and the last sound I heard was giggling and their steps fading in the distance. My eyes shut, and my heart stopped. My arms fell limply on the bodies surrounding me.  

A few hours later I wake up and step down from the pile of bodies. I look into the mirror at my reflection and my hair is mangled with blood, my teeth are sharp and throbbing, and I am thirsty. The children are unaware of who I truly am until I hear the door screech open. Lilith and her twin stand beside me, and hold my hands. They know my little secret all along, and now I know theirs.  

“Can we play now, Alice? I’m hungry.”  

We really were like sisters.