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Language:
English
Series:
Part 17 of Say My Name
Stats:
Published:
2025-09-07
Completed:
2025-09-11
Words:
855
Chapters:
2/2
Comments:
8
Kudos:
2
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34

Am I Just A Monster In A Cage

Summary:

It was an accident…was it?

Notes:

Another drabble story. This one was requested by VellichorStories after a headcanon generator came up with Rebecca nearly dying from being locked inside a freezer and VellichorStories joking that Lydia pushed her into the freezer. I already wrote a fic where Lydia witnesses Rebecca being murdered so writing one where she does the murder herself seemed like fun. AO3 won’t let me gift it to them but if you see this I hope you like it. Thanks for the prompt ❤️

Title from Monster from Frozen

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Lydia’s jaw dropped, and she looked down in horror as Rebecca landed head first at the bottom of the stairs. There was blood everywhere.

Had she really just done that?

She ran downstairs, almost falling herself, hoping and praying her mother was still alive. If she wasn’t…

She wasn’t. Rebecca de Winter was dead.

Lydia let out an anguished scream.

She hadn’t meant to do it. Rebecca had seized her by the shoulders. She only meant to escape her grasp and walk away, but she’d shoved her. She’d pushed her hard enough to make her fall.

Mrs. Danvers’ face turned white as she came upon her mistress’ body, her daughter knelt down in tears beside it. The shock was so intense that all she could do was stare.

“What happened, Lydia?” 

The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush.

“She fell down the stairs,” the girl cried.

She thought nothing could get the better of her Rebecca, but it was nothing more than a lie. A tragic accident had taken her life.

She asked no further questions. The girl had just lost her mother after all, tumultuous as their relationship was.

“Mr. de Winter!”

They had taken Rebecca’s body away a few moments ago. Maxim had told the police all he knew, as had Mrs. Danvers. 

He had been in the room when they questioned Lydia, and he knew right away that his daughter was hiding something.

“What really happened? I think you and I both know she didn’t just fall,” he said pointedly to her once the police had left.

Lydia’s lip quivered, but she didn’t cry anymore. Her tears had been spent after all was said and done. Nonetheless, she shakenly told him everything.

Maxim put a hand on her shoulder. “This stays between you and I,” he said. “It was an accident.”

“He’s a widower. His wife died last year.”

“How did she die?”

“No one knows”

 

Ileana never thought to ask Maxim about the particulars of Rebecca’s death. Her husband and his daughter were very secretive about it, and whenever it was brought up, the subject would be changed abruptly.

That is, until one day when she heard one of the maids let slip that there were rumors that Maxim had killed her.

“Was she murdered?” Ileana asked.

Maxim began to stutter, caught off guard by his young wife’s question.

He didn’t answer. Was that proof that the rumors were true?

“Maxim, did you…?” she asked him, nervously balling her hands into fists.

Maxim shook his head. “It wasn’t me,” he told her, not meeting her eyes.

“Then who?” Ileana asked.

“It was an accident.”

He refused to say anything more.

Chapter 2

Notes:

A few of you wanted a part 2 going into Lydia’s thought process, so here you go. I hope these double drabbles do it justice ❤️

TW: Descriptions of self harm

Chapter Text

The stream of condolences had seemed never ending as she stood at the front of the church at her father’s side. She shouldn’t have been there. Why should she be allowed to mourn?

If they only knew, they wouldn’t be so kind, she thought resignedly as she sat in her room, a hairpin in hand.

She pressed it against her arm, letting it drag against her skin. It was better than just scratching; the hairpin actually made her bleed for one thing.

If she could feel even a fraction of the pain Rebecca must’ve felt…

God, she never thought she’d feel so deeply for her, but now it all made sense. Rebecca had caused her so much pain only for her to lose control when she finally gained the upper hand.

Droplets of blood trickled down her arm, onto her black dress. She hadn’t bothered to change after the service. Nobody would notice a few little stains, would they?

Just a little pain. They wouldn’t notice. They wouldn’t talk.

If only they knew. What would they think of her?

The illusion of the grieving girl shattered.

Just a little bit of pain. No one would notice.

If only they knew.

“The stairs. Of all the things to kill me, the stairs,” Rebecca scoffed.

She was lounging on the sofa, a cigarette between her fingers. She had appeared to Lydia before, but this was the first time she’d even spoken to her. She seemed angry, who wouldn’t be when coming face to face with their murderer?

“I’m sorry,” Lydia whispered. She’d apologized to her mother’s ghost time and time again. It never eased the tightness in her heart.

Nothing would ever be enough.

“I know you are,” Rebecca sighed. Lydia was surprised she hadn’t laughed like she thought she would.

“You’re not angry?” she asked.

“Of course not,” Rebecca answered. “I know you don’t have a malicious bone in your body. If anything, I’m angry you didn’t do it on purpose.”

Lydia stared at her with wide eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Rebecca sat up, taking a drag from her cigarette. “You hate me, just like your father does, and don’t try to tell me otherwise, I know it’s true.”

“It’s not,” Lydia insisted. “At least, not entirely.”

“It is,” Rebecca hummed, “and I wonder how long you can keep it secret.”

Forever, if it came down to it.

It would kill her, but she would. 

She must.

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