Cecilia smirked into her camera. Another day, another selfie, and not one from Lucy. The food poisoning must have gone down a treat. Her lip snarled instinctively. She drew on another layer of nude lipstick and pressed her lips together firmly.

"Cecilllllliiaaaaa!"

"What?" she barked loudly.

"Ceeecilllllliaaaaaaa!"

She rolled her eyes and crawled off her bed, dropping the camera as she dragged herself to her brother.

He smiled wolfishly at her as she entered the room. For siblings they didn't have much in common; unless sharp white fangs, a devilish smile and a taste for mildly abusive behaviour counted for similarities.

"So I'm thinking of taking Beatrice out, should I wear my boots or my converse?" His grin seemed to grow twice its usual size and his blue eyes twinkled cheekily at Cecilia.

"Eurgh," she groaned, "I don't have time for this shit. Call Lucy already."

The grin quickly faded from Charlie's face.

"Nah- that chicks not so great- close up."

"Call her. Now."

Their eyes locked for a moment. Cecilia's face seemed to twist once more in the light, her skin growing tauter and paler, her eyes sinking further into her skull, purple veins seemed to sprout around her cheeks, as her chin gradually drooped.

Charlie frowned and mindlessly picked up the phone, his eyes seemed to gloss over, as if he couldn't see the face that was right in front of him.

She inwardly smiled, now she can hear all about her suffering and revel in the victory of that girl's pain, she thought to herself.

"Dial tone."

"Dial tone? What do you mean dial tone?" Cecilia snatched the phone briskly from Charlie's grasp.

She impatiently dialled the number.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Click.

"Hello Lucy?" she cooed innocently.

The phone line crackled, but Cecilia was sure she could hear heavy breathing.

"Lucy? Hello? Everything OK?"

There was crash down the line. It sounded as if chains were being dragged across the floor and something heavier- a dead weight? That can't be right, Cecilia thought.

"Lucy- HELLO?"

Shrugging, she hung up the phone, "Must have pocket dialled," she chortled as she trotted out of the room, still clutching her brother's phone.

She jumped as the phone buzzed to life in her palm. Slowly turning it over; she answered the receiver.

"Don't turn around sexxxxy sisterrr." A man's voice soothingly whispered.