《The Games We Play》


 The First Chapter

    I like my Brother. I always have, and always will. I have no doubt in my mind that he shares my thoughts on this very matter. We were inseparable as children, and despite our great resemblance in appearance due to being twins, our dear Mother still, somehow, liked him far more than me. I don''t know how this favoritism developed, but I am happy for my Brother, as it lead to him having a most pleasant childhood. Her favoritism did lead to her downright loathing of me, but it was a small price to pay for the love and affection she showed my Brother. Of course, she would never do the Things She Did to me near my Brother, of course not, as she and he shared a mutual and affectionate bond.


    My Brother and I would play games. Neither of us had any friends due to various reasons, but we enjoyed ourselves in each others company. We would play many games together. We would play Cops and Robbers, or in this case Cop and Robber, or we would play Tag, or sometimes we would simply play Pretend. However, these all followed a single and all-powerful rule. He was the Good Guy, I was the Bad Guy.


    This even continued into adulthood. Indeed, the both of us became Cops in the end, but I cannot help but say that the games never truly did end.


    I have always been fond of games, and so has my Brother. We may have lived in different apartments, but we were housed in the same complex, and even in the same corridor. Occasionally, one of us would go over to the other and we would spend the night playing board games and roleplaying. I never missed the cue to laugh out a ¡°Mo-hahahaha,¡± and he would never fail to respond with ¡°You villain!¡±


    Today was one such day.


    My Brother and I were seated at a table in his kitchen, playing Cop and Robber with nostalgic glee when both of our phones buzzed almost simultaneously. We exchanged a quick glance before each pressing a button and both responding with ¡°Smith, what your emergency,¡± a little joke we had running between only the two of us. The one on the other line responded with a flat ¡°5''th Avenue, Adolphson & Falk Street, Double Homicide,¡± to which I and my dear Brother both responded, in unison, ¡°Yes siree.¡±


    We traveled there in the same car, a deep blue SAAB 95. this was due to the fact that if we went somewhere we, in most cases went there together and therefore, only one car was required. This decision had been decided when we realized we wanted the same car. The ride to the scene was uneventful, and the dark, almost deserted streets were calm in the warm glow of the evening lights.


    The scene in question looked almost poetic in the orange-ish lights of the streetlights. The two bodies were illuminated as if they were art on pedestals, which I could only think of them as. Both were female and completely nude. The skin and flesh on both of their forearms, shins, and scalp had been flayed, making all five protruding limbs and the head look like flowers, clean and almost glistening bone showing its beautiful almost crystal features from beyond the skin and flesh. Their faces were distorted into a painting showing, strangely enough, an image of pure bliss and ecstasy.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    However, none of the libs nor their scalps showed any sign of any blood having splattered from what must have been an amazingly pleasant one-way trip, considering the look on their faces. their bodies were as white as snow, and I noticed five distinct openings on each limb as well as a larger one in their chests. Despite these obvious wounds, however, I noticed that there was, in fact, No blood at the scene. How strange.


    My Brother was staring as well, a look of distant admiration clouding his ever so clear green eyes. Soon enough he caught me staring into his deep, evergreen eyes, and the distant awe was grabbed, clubbed down by and most likely murdered by his overbearing sense of righteousness.


    Another perk of being the favourite is that you naturally develop a sense of justice and what is right, instead of whatever it is I got.


    ¡°I will get whomever did this,¡± my Brother said through gritting teeth. ¡°I have no doubts in my mind that you will, Brother,¡± I responded with a warm smile of anticipation and playfulness. He was, after all, the logical and intelligent of the two of us, so of course he would catch the foul Artist who just happened to use knives and saws instead of pencils and brushes. I cant say I wanted my Brother to fail, but I did wish to see what our dearest Artist had to offer.


    Around the beautiful bodies a few heavily dressed men, it was, after all, November, were squatting and dusting for prints on several places, most likely without anything to show for it. A few of them turned their heads our way, their eyes hopping between the two of us without ever really being able to lay them on either one.


    One of the men simply standing around doing nothing noticed the two of us and lumbered over with a smile on his lips. ¡°Winston and Brian,¡± he asked, looking between us and at us and most likely trying to figure out which is which, without much success, if you were to ask his expression. ¡°¡±Yes,¡±¡± we answered, not really telling him which was which, but if he wanted a specific he''d have to ask himself. ¡°Uh, yes, um. We''ve got an ID on them,¡± he said hesitantly, looking down at a paper in his hand as if it was going to come alive and advise on how to speak with people, despite its usual silence. ¡°already? That was quick,¡± my Brother, Winston, noted. ¡°Ah, yes, well, the witness,¡± he said, nodding over to where a young girl dressed rather revealingly was sobbing into her hands while three uniformed men were swarming around her, ¡°She knew them. Apparently they''re her friends or something. Had just been to the movies to. What a way to go,¡± he finished with a small chuckle. What for, who knows. He continued when he noticed our silence, ¡°Ah, ehem, the brunette is Amanda Harrison and the other is Frankie Harrison,¡± ¡°Sisters?¡± I asked, and he turned to me. ¡°Yeah. Not only that, twins,¡± a flicker of something glimmered in my Brothers eyes and he turned to me. I, however, was already looking at him, so we simply exchanged a glance before turning from the man and walking over to the witness.


    I, however, had no need to know what she had seen, because I knew she had seen nothing. No, I didn''t even need to know wether there were any fingerprints on the bodies. There were none.


    How did I know this?


    Simple enough.


    I did it.

 The Second Chapter

    My Brother, as sharp as he is, had no powers of telepathy as far as I knew, so this little confession went unnoticed. The witness was still bawling her eyes out, and the three uniforms standing around her tried to soothe her, but alas, ''twas for naught. One of the uniforms looked up and greeted us with a weary smile. ¡°We''ll take over here,¡± my Brother said sternly. The uniform sighed and shrugged, staggering away with the two others in tow. The witness barely noticed how the uniforms left, but I suppose I''d have the same reaction if I was in her shoes. Her glazed eyes, red and swollen to the brink of disturbingly so, darted between the bodies, the uniforms who left and between me and my Brother. ¡°We would like to ask you a few questions,¡± he begun in his best ¡°I am a cop and you listen to me,¡± voice. His voice was normally rather Low-key and calm, but when he attached a little pressure and effort to it he could probably force a confession out of a suicide victim. The witness seemed very surprised and straightened her back, finally meeting his gaze, however, it would seem she had no means of speaking, so she simply nodded. My Brother continued by asking ¡°When did you find your, erherm, friends?¡± The witness ripped her gaze from him and stared at her feet. They were rather slender and fair, draped in a pair of bright red heels that made her around a decimetre longer than she really was. However, it would seem that they were, in fact, not clocks, and thus she was left to fend for herself.


    After a minute or so of her silent interrogation with her shoes, she seemed to have realized when she found her friends'' beautifully crafted bodies and her body returned to my Brother. If I remember correctly, it was around 9 ''o clock that I saw her gasping and crying and barfing from my hidey-hole of an alleyway. ¡°Um, I-, hic, I think it was-, hic, at Ten?¡± My Brother looked over at me, and I can swear he noticed my pleasant surprise. Well, I''m pretty sure he didn''t, as if he had those kinds of powers he would most defiantly have overheard my little confession. ¡°Are you sure of that, Miss?¡± The Witness squirmed in her shoes, my Brother continued, ¡°Your call was received at Nine Thirty, are you sure you found it at Ten ''o clock?¡± The Witness turned pale and averted her gaze once more. ¡°I-, Well-, It was so Dark-, I,¡± she tried to explain, but she couldn¡¯t create a full sentence. My Brother simply sighed and turned half a gaze to me with a pleading expression. Oh, alright Brother, ill help you. ¡°Miss, did you notice anyone or anything when you found the bodies?¡± she let a breath slip out and seemed relieved that we left the somehow awkward question of when she found the bodies and instead moved on. ¡°No, I didn''t, hic, notice anything, it was so dark I-, hic, could barely even see them,¡± she answered through her constant tears, shooting an arrow-headed gaze to the bodies before returning her gaze to my Brother, before settling on staring at me. I see. Well, I was rather sure she never saw me, if she did shed have to be a hawk or something, so I was not too worried. My Brother inquire further by asking ¡°What did you do when you reached the scene?¡±, to which I would have loved to answer ¡°She gasped, she cried, she puked, she snooped around, she called the police,¡± but that would raise a whole bunch of questions I would rather not answer in the presence of my Brother. Wouldn''t want to spoil the game, would I? However, it would seem the witness didn''t wish to answer this either, as she said ¡°I would like to stop this here,¡± by dropping into a puddle of crying and sniffing on the ground, creating a sort of ¡°No Cops Allowed barrier. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    My Brother stared at me with a light in his eyes that whispered ¡°She knows something,¡± with such pressure I could only answer with a glimmer of my own, whispering ¡°Yes, Brother, she does,¡± back, in its silver-tounged way. My Brother smiled, a smile I answered with my own, and we strode back towards the crime-scene in question.


    As I knew very well, there was nothing to find. No fingurrprints, no hair fibers, no name scribbled in blood saying ¡±Brian Smith Did It;¡± nothing. As such, I had almost no interest in what the lab-rats found, my Brother, however, was a different story. He darted about, asking the strangest of questions, such as, ¡±Have you found anything,¡± ¡°Is there any blood or hair,¡± but most were either ignored or answer with a short ¡°no¡± or ¡°yes.¡± really, once my Brother had winded down he looked really disappointed, on the border of depressed. I pat him gently on the back. Pat pat pat. He looked up and met my eyes. Pat pat pat. ¡°Stop patting, Brother, I''m fine.¡± Pat Pat Pa-, my Brothers gaze met mine. ¡°Please.¡± I stopped patting.


    My Brother and I returned to the car and he drove us back to the apartment complex we call our home. The night sky was clear and the moon shone brightly like a second sun, almost blinding me. We drove in silence, my Brother most likely lost in thoughts about what the witness had said. All I was thinking of was what to do next time. I guess now that one of two pairs had been found, it was only a matter of time. I almost chuckled thinking of how they would react, but more importantly, how my Brother would react. A faint but genuine smile surfaced on my lips. And so our evening concluded, my Brother and I parting ways at the door.


    It was only a matter of time.


    And I was right.


    They found them the next day.

 The Third Chapter

    Their bodies were almost completely decomposed when they were found. Mold had already started growing like tufts of cotton along the rims of the barrel their bodies were found inside. One could barely even believe they had once been human. At first, my dear Co-workers thought it was only one body, stuffed into a barrel that once contained some sort of liquid, but when they discovered a second skull in the decaying heap of flesh and liquid that had formed, they had no choice but to accept that it was, in fact, two former human beings.


    The barrel in question was located under a rather small bridge placed above a running stream. The stream was weak, so the barrel hadn''t dislodged and the whole crew of police and forensics could stand on the sides without any problem.


    My Brother was, as most others on the scene, rather disgusted at this exhibition which showed what forms a human could take if they just put their minds to it. I had half-expected them to be found earlier, but I suppose, like all great liquids, one must wait for them to ferment in order to get the best out of it.


    The rain was pouring down with great and unappreciated vigor, soaking most of the police and civilians there in its gift of life. My Brother and I were both draped in a black overcoat each. They were the same brand and the same sort, making us almost identical. If people constantly confuse one of us for the other, why not make it just a tad bit harder for them? The only difference between us was the fact that we had slightly different hats. He wore a black Bowler while I wore a black Trilby.


    This time, unlike last nights little ravendouz, we had several witnesses. It would seem a group of kids around the age of sixteen or seventeen had been out partying, as kids do, and while drunkenly stumbling about the bridge one of them found the barrels and consequentially dared another kid to open it. Poor kid, their reaction must have been quite something. How sad I couldn''t be there to witness it in person, but then again, I had rigged a camera to film their reaction, so I suppose that makes up for that.


    The camera was hidden on one of the many birches that surrounded the bridge, in a crevice just under one of the many branches. It was stationed perfectly as to catch exactly what the witnesses had seen. The camera was small, black and almost invisible unless you knew it was there.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    With a knowing smirk, I turned my head slightly to the left and let my eyes search for the camera which I would come back to grab later tonight. My eyes traveled from the base of the tree, went along the tree itself, examined the branches, and found nothing. ¡°...huh...¡± I said, talking only to myself. In confusion I let my eyes wander once more, with a bit more focus this time. Nothing. The tree was empty, and the hidden spot where my camera had been oh so carefully placed was empty. My mind started to race. Had someone found it? Had the rain knocked it down? Had I perhaps never put it up in the first place? After a few more moments of stressed examination, my Brother must have noticed the strange expression that stained my face. ¡°Are you alright, Brother? You look distressed,¡± he almost whispered, but to me, it was like a shout, and with my eyes still stuck to the tree as if with glue, my head turned to my Brothers with an exaggerated, almost comical motion. ¡°Yes, Brother, I am quite alright. I was simply looking for a rare bird I''ve heard lives in these kinds of trees,¡± I said, nodding to the birch I was examining with more focus then I had on making a believable excuse. ¡°I didn''t know you were interested in birds, is that a new passion of yours?¡± he inquired, to which I responded, ¡°No, Brother, I simply read an article in the news. It would seem, however, that no birds dwell in this particular tree.¡± my mind really was someplace else, whatever I was saying was barely coherent enough for even my Brother to understand. He eyed me up and down, head to toe, before muttering ¡°huh,¡± and turning away.


    I forced my eyes to leave the tree, and with a quick glance concluded that no other Birch contained the camera. I knew for a fact that I had placed a camera, so I concluded that someone must have found it. Who this someone was, however, I did not know. Whoever it was, they had yet to turn it over to the police, as I could see no one fumbling around with my modestly expensive camera.


    The detective on the scene, a Mr. Anderson, must have finished question the witnesses as he left them alone while he walked over to the forensics dusting the barrel and taking tests of the liquid it contained. As usual, the forensics had found nothing. I knew that very well, gloves are very useful for this kind of thing, and I had been very careful to use them constantly, even wearing gloves under the gloves so as to not get fingerprints on the gloves. Who knows, they might just transfer to the bodies I touch.


    Rather safe than sorry, no?

 The Fourth Chapter

    My Brother was tapping his foot to a strange beat, as he often does when lost in thought, and as the great Brother I am, I decided not to bother him while he was so deeply concentrated, and instead, I walked over to Anderson who was currently shouting at one of the many forensic geeks.


    ¡°Whaddya mean there''s nothing you can do?! Clean as a whistle?! We''ve gotta catch this motherfucker before he kills again, and I fucking KNOW he will! This is a serial killer, and you won''t do jack shit to help, you useless sack of fermenting shit!!¡± he shouted at our Forensics lead, Victor Mannheim, who responded by mumbling ¡°It''s not our fault he was careful, what do you want us to do, forge it till we make it?¡± Anderson stared at Victor with a bloodlust I rarely see from him, and I can''t say I was happy it was me he was trying to catch. At least he wasn''t staring at me. After a few seconds too many of them staring at each other, Anderson threw his hands into the air in a ¡°fuck it¡± motion, and while Victor solemnly sighed I took the chance and slid up to him almost soundlessly.


    ¡°Did you find anything?¡± I said, almost like a whisper, and I suppose it was in some way creepy as Victor jumped around ten meters into the air. He turned around and stared at me with a frightened and confused expression before asking ¡°which one?¡± to which I answered ¡°Check the hat. Bowler is my Brother, Trilby is his Brother.¡± He shrugged his head, gave a snort-like laugh and said ¡°You think I know my hats?¡± laughter ensued. Clap clap clap. ¡°No but seriously, which one are you. I cant see the difference between you, and I''ve worked with you for years. You''d better get like, a name-tag or something,¡± he said, looking a bit more serious by furrowing his brows. ¡°yeah, sure, then we can have two ¡°Mr. Smith,¡± how about it? But in all seriousness, I''m Brian, and my Brother is the one with the bowler.¡± he looked over to my Brother, shrugged, and answered my first question. ¡°Well, we ain''t got nuthin''. Tricky guy, no fingerprints on the barrels and nothing on the bridge. The two in the barrel are twins, according to the dental records. The witnesses found them at around five in the morning, so we had a lot of time to check ''em. You know what we find?¡± he paused. I guessed he wanted an answer to the question, so I pleaded ignorance. ¡°no?¡± He grinned. ¡°Twins. Motherfucking twins, baby. We''ve got a serial killer on our hands!¡± I didn''t understand why he was so happy about it, but I suppose as long as that was all they had, it was fine.


    After a few more minutes of chit-chat I excused myself and returned to my Brothers side. ¡°did you hear? Twins,¡± I said, ¡°As in, we''ve got a serial killer.¡± my Brother looked at me and snickered to himself, ¡°I knew it.¡± the two of us continued standing around and observing the others working, but when the call of duty sounds, you can''t really ignore it. My Brother and I sauntered back to the car and I drove us over to the station. After a few hours of writing and reading and reporting and talking I was exhausted, and considering all the times someone confused me for my Brother, Victors idea seemed more and more appealing.


    I came home at Five ''o Clock and I threw myself into the couch to just lie down and digest what had happened. Someone found my camera, took it, and then... what, exactly? Sure, they might have watched it, but, if that''s the case, why didn''t they report it to the police? If one were to witness someone dumping a barrel of human paste before setting up a camera, why take the camera? I couldn''t make sense of it. After a while, I even fell asleep and I awoke by an ominous gurgle in my abdomen. I remembered I was supposed to be at my Brothers place for dinner at Six, so I wondered if I could make it. One glance at a nearby clock confirmed my statement. Five to six, I could make it. I changed myself at the speed of light and before I knew it I was knocking on my Brothers door. I couldn''t see it, but I felt his gaze fall on me through the fisheye, and with some clirr and clunk of various locks, the door was open and he was welcoming me inside.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°Hey Brother, nice of you show up. I''ve got something to show you,¡± he said in his usual monotone voice, the same kind that I also speak in. ¡°And what might that be?¡± I said, to which he answered ¡°I''ll show you after dinner, come on inside.¡± The dinner was nothing fancy, a steak, some potatoes, a few beers, the usual. As we were cleaning up the dishes and letting the food settle down, my Brother turned to me once more. ¡°It''s kind of frightening, isn''t it?¡± he said, which caught me off guard. ¡°What is?¡± I asked. ¡°The killings. You know, the twin guy. I wonder what the media will call him? The Twin-killer?¡± ¡°The Double Down?¡± ¡°The Gemini Killer?¡± ¡°The Two-For-One?¡± we shared a laugh at the strange names which we oh so carefully crafted. I sort of hoped I''d be called one of them, but you cant ask for anything when it comes to the press. They''ll give you what you wanted and still somehow fuck it up. My Brother smiled. ¡°Well, whatever they call him, he''s a sick fuck we need to catch.¡± ¡°indeed he is, Brother.¡± ¡°and I know exactly how.¡± ¡°do tell, Brother dearest.¡± ¡°i found something. A camera.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°I think it was used to film the scene. I haven''t watched whats in it yet, but I''m sure it''ll tell us who or at the least how.¡± ¡°interesting. Are you proposing what I think you are?¡± ¡°Indeed I am.¡± ¡°Shall we?¡± ¡°of Course.¡±


    We seated ourselves in front of his television, and while he fumbled around with it, I thought ¡°aha, so that''s how it is,¡± and soon enough my Brother was finished. The TV jumped to life and emitted a ¡°Bzzzz¡± noise.


    The screen lit up, and the first thing we saw was a mask. It was a plain sort of ski-mask, but it was thin and made of a fine black silk that showed nothing but the eyes. The eyes were a bluish green and darting about, a grin showing beneath the mask. The mask slowly moved away from the camera and soon you could make out the surrounding area. He was standing in a stream, wearing a pair of boots and his body was dressed in all black, the only thing about him you could make out from what we had seen was his eyes. Not even his height was certain. The stream was running beneath a small bridge, under the bridge stood a barrel and in the barrel, al tough you could not see it, two young, male, almost identical bodies were slowly turning into mush. The figure turned around and walked away, staying the shadows, and since it was dark as night, he was gone before he was even out of the scene.


    My Brother and I were awestruck. He looked at me, intrigued beyond belief. His curiosity had gotten the better of him and he was almost glittering with the Need to Know.


    I, as you might know, did not share his feelings.


    I didn''t need to know.


    I already did.

 The Fifth Chapter

    The eventful evening concluded with my Brother trying to explain who the man in the mask was and why he had set up a camera while I nodded at all the appropriate times and listened intently at any sign he was on to me; I didn''t get any. At the end of his little rambling about perhaps I wanted to record who found the Barrel in order to use them as canvas the two of us sat down once more and watched the clip of me setting up the camera a few more times, however, this time my Brother was busy scribbling notes to truly take it in. I suggested that we should watch when the Witnesses arrived ¨C as I knew I wouldn''t get a second chance ¨C with the reason that knowing how the Barrel was found could clear some misconceptions and even, if we''re lucky, bring some light on the whole situation. My Brother eagerly obliged.


    At first, there was nothing. The night was illuminated only by the Cheshire grin moon that hung low between the silver clouds hiding the stars from the world. Leaves slowly fell down to the beat of the autumn night while the stream flowed slowly and quietly, hitting the Barrel only occasionally. After a few minutes of this ¨C as we had decided to speed up the footage and rewinded when we noticed something happened ¨C sounds could be heard. The wind was loud enough to hide the giggling moon, but despite this, laughter could be heard. Loud laughter penetrated the silent night like a blade, destroying the stilleben and showing that a world beyond this single frame of life existed and was not shy about it. Soon enough the laughter turned to talking, and the talking turned to shouting, and within only a couple of moments, five or six black Shadows escaped from beyond the scene, giving the world a new point of focus. They stumbled as if intoxicated ¨C which they were ¨C and almost as soon as they walked out on the bridge, one of them decided to show off to his pals by standing on the edge of the slippery bridge. He succeeded in a way, as his friends gave out a cheer and laughed a shrill laugh. As expected, within seconds, the Shadow had fallen into the stream, the other Shadows only laughing harder and louder.


    The Shadow who had fallen gave out a pained scream before stumbling to his feet. He searched for something to lean on, stumbling on legs of cement, and soon he found a place to lean and rub his sore head. The Barrel. He was leaning against the heavy Barrel as if it were a piece of furniture. His friends must have noticed how he didn''t return as they all decided to walk down to him. They were rather careful, however, as the rocks were as slippery as a bucket full of eels, luckily enough for them, only one or two fell and broke their limbs. They limped over to the fallen shadow who was still leaning against the barrel and made a few word-like sounds, but I couldn''t be sure what they said since the camera had been just a bit too far away. Noted. After a conversation of sorts the Shadows grouped together once more, all centred around the Barrel with obvious curiosity and glee. One of the Shadows grabbed an object, most likely a bottle, from a large pocket and placed it upon the Barrel. The object was put down and spun around. After a few seconds of giggling the object slowed down to a stop in front of one of the he Shadows, to the others great pleasure and pain. The Shadows, excluding the Chosen One, all took a few steps away from the Barrel. The Chosen One took a few cautious steps forwards, most likely both giddy with excitement and struck with hinted fear. Their shadowy hands wrapped around the lid, checking if it was open, which it was. I had been sure to make it airtight yet easy to open if you simply twisted it open. The Chosen One touched it, hit it, pulled at it, and finally, twisted it. The Barrel made a ¡°fiss¡± sound, as if someone had opened a recently and relentlessly shaken bottle or soda. The Shadows jumped at the sudden sound, but it was not the sound that forced them to take several steps back and fall to their knees; it was the smell. I could smell it from the comfortable seat of my Brothers leather couch, but I knew it was far from pleasant. The Chosen One who was still holding the lid was sent shooting back as if someone had struck him with a heated iron. His hands were sent rocketing up to his mouth, as he was most likely trying to keep the alcohol and food he had consumed earlier within him; he failed. Even from the distance the camera was at you could still clearly see a thick liquid escaping his gaping mouth. The lid had been thrown to the ground in this sudden surge of motion, revealing the Barrels contents. It was hard to see from the distance the camera was set up at, noted, but you could barely make out a pair of spherical objects enclosed in a dark soup. Most of the Shadows had now fallen to their knees, releasing what they had thought would go out the exit through the entrance. Only one of the Shadows was seemingly unphased, and he limped, only barely keeping his head up, over to the Barrel in order to find out what could create such a foul stench capable of bringing five or six adolescent boys to their knees. Could it be old fish? Mouldy cheese? Excrement? Nope. Humans. I really wish I had set the camera closer; his reaction must have been priceless. He walked over and grappled onto the rims of the barrel in an attempt to battle the nausea, but when he felt something thick and wet and gross on his hand, he noticed it. The stumbled backwards, through the stream, and fell on his arse. Another one of the Shadows tried to get up and out of curiosity check the barrel, but the Shadow whom had witnessed its foul truth almost instantly got to his feet and ran over, resealing the Barrel with the dropped lid. Before the other Shadow even had a chance to object, the one whom had had witnessed it shouted, loud enough for the camera to pick up, ¡°CALL THEM GET THEM HERE NOW DO IT DONT HERE NO,¡± to which the other Shadow responded with stumbling back in shock. Within a few minutes, the ever faithful police had surrounded the Barrel.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    My Brother wanted to stop it there, but in a fit of what I can only describe as perfectionist glee, I commanded him not to. He obliged.


    The cops had a similar reaction. Open it, stumble back, return. However, unlike the adolescent boys, they neither puked nor screamed. In fact, they barely reacted at all, to my great displeasure. I asked my Brother to turn if off, and once more, he obliged.


    After this, we decided to call it a night, and within only a couple of minutes, I had returned to my humble abode. I was still feeling the savage glee of knowing I had caused such a display of disgust and fear, but I had had no way of expressing it while my Brother was close by and witnessing the same as I, and thus, I could only express it once I was alone. My mouth twisted itself, almost on command, into a stale grin. My teeth which were normally so clean and precise looked crooked and wrong, only adding to monstrous effect my gleeful grin contained. I brought my thoughts back to the moment the lid had been twisted loose, the ¡°fiss¡± and their reactions. Oh, their reactions, it was so perfect, and I wish I had put the camera closer, even if it meant I wouldn''t be able to retrieve it later. My grin only twisted itself further and further until it was like that of a Cheshire cat. Soon enough my grin had opened up and allowed a sound to flee the prison of my body and make itself known. It sounded like someone inhaling rapidly and shallowly. Like someone who had gotten thrown into a sea of shock so deep they could only take short, hyperventilating breaths. This giggle soon turned into a laugh a thousand times more disturbing. The rapid gasps had turned into full-blown breaths of joy, and the frightening laughter I could no longer shackle resounded through my home like the screams of the damned souls in hell.


    I was happy.


    I was truly happy.

 The Sixth Chapter

    I was eager to continue my work and play out my turn, but I had to wait. I had to be patient, I had to be careful, and no matter how fun it is to play out your most inner desires the moment they hit you, sometimes, it is the wait that makes it all worth it. And so, I waited.


    The next day was a Friday. The last day of the week when counting the days you have to spend in a box of unfun work and uninteresting obligations. The whole department was in a festive mood, as they always are on this particular day of the week. Someone had even, in order to celebrate some whatnot or another, brought in a cake. It was a very tasty cake, but I didn''t get too much. I talked some with the one man in the department I sort of kind like if you don''t count the bottomless love I hold for my Brother, Augustus. He works in forensics with Victor, but he''s not on the same level when it comes to forensics. And so, I spent an hour or so discussing whom the most notorious ¨C or as I like to call it, accomplished ¨C serial killer was. He argued that it was Ted Bundy due to the sheer brutality of what he did and his astonishing character that inspired many, many serial killer stories and how the public eye judges them. I did not agree, as I thought it is not the character of his kills that make it what it is but instead the amount, and thus I argued that the Bay Harbour Butcher was far more accompl-, eherm, notorious, as he killed far more people and with far more of a grudge. Augustus did not agree, but he respected my opinion and my reasons for believing so, and as one does, I respected his too.


    And so, the day trudged on with increasingly uninteresting events taking place. Lunch was a simple meal at a nearby restaurant, a very old place the departments been using as a gas station since it opened ¨C whichever it is that opened first ¨C which serves European style food. Me and my small group of friends, my Brother, Augustus, Victor, my Brothers equivalent to Augustus: a large man named George and my Brothers equivalent to Victor: a skinny yet tall man whom nobody knows the name of, but everyone calls him Quick. The six of us stole a booth from under the nose of another large group of cops, and after a depressingly hurried meal, we were off, back into the office, back into an uninteresting life that only exists to nurse my far more interesting life in the shadow of the midnight moon.


    The day continued to pass uneventfully. What I did was so uninteresting I fear that if I were to admit I did it it would make the question the use of writing another. The day concluded with my little group of five close friends going to a newly opened restaurant downtown and eating a rather expensive meal. I cannot confess that it was worth the uninteresting work I traded for the sustenance. Sometimes, you have to wonder whether a communist revolution truly is such a bad idea after all. However, was was in store for me this night was not a communist revolution, but instead something far more interesting and far more fun, and it would happen soon.


    The six of us exited the restaurant and split into three groups, one containing George and Quick, one containing Augustus and Victor, and the final one containing me and my Brother. The moon already hung low, swinging softly against the cotton clouds trying desperately to hide it behind a veil of ignorance. I bid my Brother farewell, as I had other things to do that night than sleep. My Brother was a little confused, but he bid me farewell without any further question. Another one of the many reasons I love him before myself. We parted ways, my Brother moving down the streets keeping under the light of the few lamps trying desperately to keep the darkness at bay while I moved in the shadows, circling around the lamps in an attempt to remain in the darkness that the night so gleefully provides without interest. I soon moved away from the light struck main streets and into an alley shrouded in darkness as thick as oil. The alley was filled with garbage and trash and all that society leaves behind, and yet, I stalked through it with such swiftness a cat with its ears peaked high wouldn''t be able to hear the crumple of paper or the squish of something old and moldy, as there was nothing like that. There was no sound to be heard from within the alley except for the sound of leaves fluttering through the sky and the wind stirring up the dust.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Like this, I moved. I almost broke out in a sprint, but I never did. I was always simply walking quickly, and if anyone ever had the godly attentiveness to catch my movements as more then simply the wind running through the alley and spreading its wings, they would simply see a man, returning from the office, trying to take a shortcut through the alley as he was in a bit of a hurry. Nothing more, nothing less. The bag I held in my hand ¨C a bag I had picked up in the alley right where I had put it ¨C was to the trained eye simply filled with documents, papers and nothing more. And that is a good thing, for if they knew what it was that made the bag sack and hang low with weight, they would run the other way. After a few alleys and many times blending with the darkness to become nothing, I was finally there.


    The house was very large and placed right by the street, however, I had approached it from the back, trough the dark alleyways that make up the backstreets of this rather large and unassuming city. The house was guarded by a large hedge stretching itself out around the house, but I knew how to get in. the hole in the back of the fence I had cut open and covered in leaves was gaping wide open like the maw of some horrid beast. I flinched. That hole was not supposed to be open. I cocked my head and let it scan the surroundings. Not a sound could be heard, not a movement executed. I cautiously entered the back garden through the maw and was faced with a strange scene. The garden was dimly lit, yes, but it wasn''t how it was supposed to be. A garden chair had been toppled over, the movement detectors I had been so cautious of were covered with some sort of clay, an urn here or there was crushed as if stepped on and the lilies that had been growing so beautifully in the corner of the garden was crushed as if someone had detested even the sight of them.


    Someone had been here. It had not been me.


    I moved slowly, slowly towards some window to the house, making sure not to accidentally create a sound. A window was opened wide with a view of the garden, and I could see something moving within. I slithered my body around to the side, approaching the window from the blind spot and soon I was there. I cocked my head to the side and peeked inside with weary eyes.


    Someone was standing bent over a large wooden table, their back turned to the window which is probably why they had yet to notice my presence. In their hand, they held a scalpel gleaming and glittering with something red. On the table, I saw something large and beige and squirming and red.


    A human.


    A prey.


    MY prey.

 The Seventh Chapter

    My blood started boiling in the veins that contained it and my vision turned scarlet. How DARE someone steal MY prey? How DARE someone BARGE into my perfect moonlit night and STEAL my prey from right under my nose?? how DARE someone take what was to be MINE and make it their OWN???


    These kinds of thoughts swirled and slithered about in my head, coiling and uncoiling like serpents who¡¯ve smelled blood, but despite all the thoughts of grabbing a nearby shovel, smashing both the window and the thief who stole my prey''s head in, I refrained. Instead, I started burning their looks into my head, for future reference. Their hair was long and some sort of dark colour, as despite the cool lighting I could not make out the colour as anything but was instead forced to simply call it dark, and they were dressed in some sort of evening gown. The dress was long, black and rather pretty. If only I had interest in women. I couldn¡¯t see her face, but I could easily tell she was frankly stunning. I couldn''t hear too well through the window, but she must have been humming some melody, I could tell. It was rather strange and off beat, but her head was swaying side to side in rhythm, meaning it must have been something she held dear. The red and beige squirming thing on the table was held down by hooks connected to weights threaded through her arms and legs which made her nearly immobile. I wanted to whistle a little catcall at her as a sort of ¡°nice touch!¡± comment, but I was able to restrain myself.


    However, my movements must have been noticed, as the red and beige squirming thing turned its distorted face my way, and I was regretfully enough stunned to the extent that we made eye contact. Its eyes, clouded previously by fear, regret, and pain, suddenly turned clear as the blue sky after a rainy day, and the corners of its mouth started tugging in an effort to turn into a hopeful smile, but I could tell it failed. Instead, I could faintly hear it yell ¡°help help oh please god save me,¡± probably to me. The little pause between where she noticed me and where she yelled was noticed by the Thief, and she was just about to turn around when I dived back into the shadow of the night, leaving the house behind me.


    I ran and ran and ran, no longer minding being noticed, until I had reached the apartment complex. I knew the Thief hadn''t noticed me, that was impossible. She may not have noticed my face, but then again, I didn''t exactly catch hers either. And so, neither won nor lost. Nothing lost, nothing gained. I trudged heavy-footed into my apartment, closing the door behind me with a deep and long sigh. What a night. I had expected to experience at-least some silver midnight joy, but instead, I was introduced to a competitor-, no, a Thief.


    I went around the apartment trying to find something to do and stopped in front of the fridge. A yellow post-it note stated, in bold letters, ¡°GO GET FOOD.¡± I was a taken aback a bit, but I eventually snapped out of it and opened the fridge, only to find it empty. All that was inside was a single note. ¡°SORRY BROTHER DEAREST, I WAS INVITED TO A DINNER PARTY, I HOPE YOU DONT MIND,¡± and I didn''t. He didn''t have to clear the entire fridge, but I suppose there is nothing you can do in these kinds of scenarios but play along. Guess I''ve gotta go buy groceries.


    The night was just as I had left it; cold, dark and simply made for debaucheries of the naughtiest kind. However, no matter how much I wanted to simply grab that intoxicated man stumbling with legs of rubber on the other side of the road and have a little duet in the moonlight, I had to resist. The temptation was strong, but I''m no amateur, and you can''t just pluck someone right off of the streets and assume no one saw you. I sighed and trudged along, ignoring the soft whispers of temptation, and in hindsight, I can only pat myself on the back and say, ¡°Right decision, wrong reasons.¡± intoxicated prey are easy ones but hardly any fun. They barely squirm and they''re often too drunk to feel the pain inflicted, so they don''t really mind, and occasionally even worse, enjoy it, which is against the entire point. But I digress.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The grocery shop was of the Ica kind, and it was where I usually bought all my little necessities such as Tomatoes, Bread, and duct-tape. The wind smelled cool and delicious, and I wished to simply drink myself drunk on its soft whispers of heavenly suggestions and drunkenly dance the dance only one can return from with the intoxicated man earlier, but instead, I turned my head to the side and solemnly dragged myself inside the Ica.


    I bought butter, milk, toast, strawberry jam, some meaty stuff, black olives, sugar, that kind of stuff. I exited the prison of normality, still in a happy consumerist mood, but that soon slid away, replaced with the Needy mood that I always get in like a comfy pair of jeans you''ve worn most of your life when the moon rises and the sun retreats. The intoxicated man was gone, replaced with a half-exposed woman, waving her fingurr to me as if trying to invite me to dance with her, but I knew that I didn''t have the time nor the energy to dance with her, and I knew that if I did dance with her, some pimp would most likely wonder where his Jane Doe went. And so, I sighed, waved, and trudged along the road once more. I came to a crossroad.


    One road went the way I usually take to go home, another went in a direction I''ve never actually gone in and the last one would bring me back to Ica. I took a quick glance down each road and made a decision.


    If the glorious night I had planned was ruined anyway, why not try to redeem it by exploring the neighbourhood a little? How much worse could it get? Of course, I knew it could always get worse, but I wasn''t going to say ¡°how can it get any worse?¡± since that''s just a suicide attempt in disguise.


    My feet, heavy with contemplation, brought my tired body along the road down the dimly lit street. I caught a sign saying ¡°Penny Lane¡± somewhere, so I''m guessing that''s what I was heading down. The lights gave the world a slight orange-pink-ish tint, which was sort of befitting, considering I could hear the music even from where I was. Dark houses were lining the streets like domino bricks, and I could only imagine what it was that was getting louder the further down the street I went. Soon enough the shrill sound, which I presumed was music, was deafening, and in the corner of my eye, I noticed the only house that had any kind of lights. It was flashing like a disco-ball, lights flaring here and there while the deafening screams and thumping explosions, music, if you ask the people in the house, continued blasting the nearby houses into small pieces of plywood. The house beside the disco-ball was also alight, but it was far more modest, and the music one could faintly hear from within its crevices could actually be considered music. It was hard to hear and see it on account of the exploding disco-ball beside it, but it was possible if you squinted both eyes and ears.


    I got curious at this cracked mirroring and couldn''t help myself, and so, I sneaked over to the disco-ball, only barely keeping my eyes from melting and my ears from exploding. I peeked inside to find a sea of people, most dressed in black clothes, some wearing cloaks, some covered in something red, some with fangs, some drinking from a goblet filled with something red, all dancing wildly to whatever it is you call construction work done to a beat. With just a glimpse I was already fifty meters away, right beside the other house, hoping this wasn''t another vampire party.


    The music silently tip-toeing outside from within the house was a familiar yet fresh tone, it reminded me of something I''d heard long ago, but I could quite put my fingurr on it. I went over to the front and peeked inside. A bunch of people, all dressed in very formal attire, were seated around a large table on which all kinds of delicious food stool. I started drooling just looking at it. I didn''t even give it a second thought why they were eating food in the middle of the night. My eyes flew around and fell on each guest. I couldn''t see most of them since they were either turned away from the window I was peeking in from or covered by the people turned away from myself. But I could see a few people. A rather fat yet extravagant man dressed in a brownish suit with a red bowtie, two women sitting side by side, one in a blue dress and the other in a red, a man dressed in a black suit, the latter staring straight at me.


    His face was twisted in a sort of pleasant surprise, mirroring mine.


    I had seen that face before.


    Brother Dearest?

 The Eighth Chapter

    He got up from the chair with a childish grin on his lips and walked over to the front door ¨C which was visible from the window ¨C with a springy jump to his step. I heard something unlock in the distance and a familiar voice almost whispering ¡°Brother?¡± I got up from my cautious hunched-over pose and strolled over to him with a straight back. He gave a sigh of relief and scanned me with his eyes. The all-black attire, ¨C I failed to realize I should have changed after the aborted mission and thus left still in night-stalker cloth ¨C the Ica back held in my firm grip, my expressionless face... soon enough it would seem he was satisfied as he held out his arms. For a single moment I was confused, but I soon fell into his embrace.


    It was warm. He was well dressed and the various layers of fine cloth kept the warmth of his body from escaping and this created a warm atmosphere that clouded around him like an enticing perfume. We remained in this strange position for a few moments before he released me from his grip and took my hand, leading me inside the house. I didn''t even have the time to complain or refuse before I was brought in front of the dandy party I was previously only observing.


    The chattering they had previously been so engrossed in had ceased and their confused gazes now all rested wearily on my shoulders. My Brother rested one of his hands on my shoulders while he cleared his throat and introduced me to the dames and gentlemen sitting before us. ¡°I would like to introduce this gentleman standing beside me. As you might have noticed, yes, we are twins,¡± he said while waving his arms in an expressive manner. the company gasped at this and I amused myself at how this realization only fell upon them when explicitly stated. My brother continued: ¡°His name is Brian, and although he might not be dressed appropriately, I hope you will still allow him to bask in your company for the night.¡± One of the fine fellows sitting around the table, a well-dressed sir whom I could only imagine to have the name ¡°Sebastian,¡± stood up and took three quick steps towards us before extending his surprisingly long arm to me. I grasped his hand and he shook it violently whilst almost shouting: ¡°it''s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Walter is the name, but you may refer to me as Walt for the evening,¡± to which I replied: ¡°it would be a pleasure, Walt.¡± my Brother looked at us with what could only be described as a ¡°they grow up so fast¡± kind of gaze all the while another few dandy-men- and women rose up for the occasion, all excitedly swarming around me while extending arms thirsting for knowledge.


    While all the guests at the party asked me various questions such as ¡°are you really Brothers?¡± ¡°are you one egg or two eggs twins?¡± and ¡°may I get a sample of your hair?¡± my Brother dragged me away from the small crowd and dumped me down in the seat beside him. There had been no plate there when I gazed in from outside, but now, as if by magic, a plate, three kinds of forks and knives, three heeled glasses and a napkin were all placed in front of me. I was confused and amused at the same time. How could this be? How could plates and forks and glasses just appear out of thin air? I didn''t have the time to answer or even ask any of these, however, as the man seated in front of me had already engaged my in conversation.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°So, you''re that fellows Brother, huh? Twin, no less,¡± he said, catching my attention. He was dressed in a dark blue silk-like suit with a black shirt underneath and a bright cyan tie. After noticing this I quickly scanned the rest of him. His face was frankly beautiful in a way, but I couldn''t set my fingurr on how. It was feminine like a young girl yet masculine like a boy in his twenties. His lips were a rosy colour and his eyes had a bluish hue that strangely enough matched his attire. What a strange man. His hair was short and blond, but one could easily notice that if he ever decided to grow it out it would become silky as only the finest hair could be and creamy as the moonlight glittering in from the window behind him. I was caught so off guard by his sudden appearance that I almost stuttered my reply. ¡°oh, yes, indeed, I am his, uh, Brother,¡± I replied hastily, too infatuated with his beauty to create something coherent. He, however, must have been used to this sort of reaction and simply snorted a laugh.


    ¡°I didn''t know you were invited to this party, what were you doing out there?¡± he inquired. I, however, was far off in the land of Lord Henry Wotton and all his aesthetic ideas. All I could answer was: ¡°well, uh, I was out and, um, buying food, since, err, all the food in my fridge was gone,¡± with a sort of distant stutter. He answered almost immidetly. ¡°and why was your fridge empty?¡± ¡°uh, well, my dearest Brother, uh, took all the food, it was, uh, note on the fridge.¡± ¡°a note? On the fridge? How strange, what did you do then?¡± I straightened my back and tore my lusting eyes from his stunning face and answered: ¡°well, I left my house, and, then I, erherm, went to the Ica just down the streets, and I re-, erm, I bought the food and then I headed home.¡± ¡°how did you end up here if you were heading home?¡± ¡°well, uh, I had had such a terrible evening, someone had, uh, stolen something from me, so I decided to just, um, be a little adventurous.¡± ¡°I see. And so you headed down this road and ended up here. My, what a coincidence to find your very beloved Brother here of all places, no?¡± ¡°ah, yes, it was. But I should really head home soon, I''ve, uh, got work tomorrow.¡± ¡°oh, I see, that''s a shame, I truly did enjoy conversing with you. What do you work wi-,¡± ¡°I''m sorry, I don''t have time to chit-chat.¡±


    I quickly rose from my seat, one eye on what I was doing and the other watching his reaction. He was stunned for a second, but soon an amused grin painted his rose lips. ¡°oh, you must forgive me, I didn''t introduce myself. I''m Eius.¡± he said with a blinding smile, to which I answered ¡°i?''m Brian, it was a pleasure.¡± my Brother looked at me with a disappointed expression but still showed me the door. I excused myself from the party and left, once again moving down the winding road stretching before me. I knew what to do. That Thief may have stolen my pray, but I have many more.


    I''ll have to call in sick tomorrow.