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Their Dark Tale
It wasn’t a normal life. Having a twin didn’t make it any easier either, that other side of you was always there, a mirror of yourself, whether you wanted them or not. But, for you to understand the complexity and darkness of this tale, we must take you back to the beginning, where it all started on that quiet evening.
I take you back to their younger years, where these two grew to become something of an oddity. They lived, as most children do, with a mother and a father. The lady of the house was frail, and often left in bed, to fight off a numerous amount of ailing diseases. Her demeanor and countenance displayed her failing health. The master of this defiled and ancient edifice preferred to care for the children. Although he was rugged and chiseled in years, he had a deep heart and loved his children above all other things in life, save his ill maiden.
These two twins were often left to their own devices, as many children were during their time. They drifted through the house, explored every crevice as any young and curious mind might. The boy gained his name from their heritage and family line. He was to be called Jack, just as his successor would be called the same. He had hair as white as snow, dashed with the black strands of his mother. He was fair in skin and had burning blue eyes, a shade that engulfed all his features and focused solely on the olive shaped orbs. He was thin, as his mother but carried the air and dominance of his father. Although he was still a boy, he contained a certain talent, which allowed him to venture inside of ones mind and distinguish what, perhaps they wished or hoped for.
Now, this other twin that I speak of, named with all the tenderness a mother has for her newborn, was promptly named Mitsy. Although a mirror image of her brother, she proceeded to tie her hair up in to pig tails, with ribbons and cloth, fastening little trinkets and gems to the faces of the ties. She shared the same deep absorbing eyes as her brother, but hers were softer, kinder. They calmed even the most savage of beasts and could make a young child drift to sweet dreams in her arms. She also seemed to have a power over the weak and feeble minded. Some say she placed thoughts in ones head and often she received new gifts and toys, much to her glee.
“I do wish he would bring something other than deer home.”
“Well sister, you should just be happy with what he can provide us and be glad that he has returned to us unharmed.” The maiden stomped about the room until her father came over to her.
“Now hush young one. See that I have also brought you something from town.” The child’s father proceeded to reach into his pocket and laid the tiniest of gems in her dainty hand. “What is it father?” She inquired. “Why, it’s yours.” He smiled warmly.
The tiny girl embraced the giant of a man and danced down the hallways.
“Father, why did you lie to her?” Jack’s eyes were focused on the distant shadow down the corridor. “What are you talking about son? I would never lie to you or your sister.” He then patted his child’s head. The boy simply stared at him. “But you’re lying right now. I can see it.” His father coughed nervously. “Come now son, no more talk of this. Let us get dinner ready.” The two disappeared around a corner, the son eyeing his father the entire time.
Mitsy burst into her mother room, beaming. “Mother! Mother! Look what papa had brought me!” The girl leaped to her mother side, smothering her with a hug.
“What is it my dear one?” The woman whispered with all her strength. “It’s a pretty gem stone! Look! See how it matches my eyes!” She held it up to her face and let the light shine on the stone, creating dancing shades of blue on her mother’s visage. “It’s very beautiful my darling.” She said as she patted her daughter’s knee. “It’s not just beautiful! It’s gorgeous, lovely, delightful!” The tiny girl burst into a slew of words she had heard all in order to show her mother how priceless this gift was. “Yes, it is all these, but it will never be prettier than you my little one.” Her sickly mother placed a pale hand on her daughter’s cheek and admired its warmness.
As the twins and their father sat down at their aging oaken table, a knock came at the door. “I shall see who is there.” The father reported to his children. They said nothing and continued to gorge themselves. The seconds ticked by until the children heard a faint cry and glanced from their plates. Their father burst through the doors in a bloody torn mess.
“Hide!” His voice rang throughout the hall, and up the stairs where the mother stared out the window. She knew that she shouldn’t, but left her room to investigate the noise.
The children leapt from their seats and sprinted to the cellar. The padlocked and blocked the entrance, unsure of what was going on. They heard a great deal of stomping and shouting. Then a voice they had never heard, dark and harsh as a tempest. There was a sudden thud on the ground and the distinct cry of a woman. Soon after, there came another thud and more footsteps.
The two twins sat there, Mitsy sobbing into her brothers back as he peeked through the door. All was silent in the house. He forced the door open to reveal their dining area defiled and trampled. His eyes locked onto two mangled, bloody corpses and his breath caught in his throat. Falling beside his slain parents he hid his sister’s face from the sight, though her screaming echoed through the manor.