CHAPTER 11

A cool breeze teased the loose strands of ebony hair that blended in so well with the night sky above them. The grass beneath them was almost unnaturally green, thanks to the wonders of the sprinkler system. Their parents were off somewhere, talking with friends whose names escaped the triplets at the moment. Lying on their backs on a warm flannel blanket, three pairs of chartreuse eyes wandered across the sky, picking out faint stars and calling up the proper names from deep in their memory banks.

It was the 4th of July, the boys were 10 years old, and everything in their lives was perfect. New York summers, usually oppressively hot, had taken a mild turn this year, the temperature never exceeding 90 degrees. Dressed in short shorts that were allowable since the pre-teens were just that, too young for it to matter, and tank tops that were sure to cling to the slightest trace of sweat, they were comfortable to say the least. Akio was lying in the middle, his arms wrapped lovingly around Hiro and Kane, their heads resting peacefully on their older brother�s own delicate shoulders. Someone nearby had a boom box tuned into a local rock station, and Ozzy Osbourne�s �Crazy Train� filled the surrounding air with familiar words and guitar riffs.

Idle hands ran through the twin�s locks, massaging their scalps gently as they waited with nearly bated breath for the dark heavens above to be ripped open with sharp whistles and dazzling bright colors. A balding man stepped up to a podium that most people hadn�t even seen, tapping a microphone and clearing his throat almost nervously. �It�s with great pleasure that I give you the best damn fireworks show on the east coast!� he announced in a rich voice.

Applause burst out all around the triplets who only squirmed with excitement, bright eyes wide as the first firework was set off, followed shortly by others. A riot of color tore apart the still midnight velvet sky, pulling collective gasps of joy and wonder. The oldest Mendego son pulled his brothers even closer, placing gentle kisses on their foreheads.

The show seemed over all too soon, and then the park faded away altogether, shuffling children clinging to their parents� hands, young lovers arm in arm� their voices melded into one before being swallowed up by the darkness that surrounded the triplets. They were older now � all of them nineteen, though Akio had never really seen his nineteenth birthday.

Green grass and worn gravel paths faded into a wooden floored room in a disintegrating house that seemed to be on its� last legs. Hiro and Kane were pinned against a battered wall; arms tied over their heads at an angle that threatened to pull their shoulders right out of their sockets. The pain was incredible, but nothing like what they were about to suffer, as they would soon find out. A figure clad in shadows could be heard, but not seen for rough cloth covered their citrine eyes.

Surprisingly gentle hands caressed their bare chests in turn, and it was at that point that they realized that only their boxers and whatever jewelry they wore remained on their thin frames. Whoever was touching them seemed familiar� the name of their captor on the tip of their tongues. Atrocities that were never meant to see the light of day, ones that were performed only in the dimmest of rooms by the foulest of humans, were brought against the boys, who had never had their own blood spilled purposely like this. Never had they been used like this � raped, tortured, whipped, sliced with a deadly knife�

Blood flowed freely from various cuts, and other injuries, some even ran down their thighs after the vicious dry rapes that had torn tender muscle without a single warning. Every wound inflicted on one brother was mirrored on the other, right down to the gashes across the forehead and the broken arms. Hot crimson dripped between the gap of skin and cloth, stinging beautiful lime eyes, somehow tainting them red though it was biologically impossible.

It seemed that the twins had forgotten that anything can and will happen in nightmares, all thanks to the unconscious mind and the things that hid from sunshine and thrived in the darkness. And somewhere in the background, amid their screaming and tears, soft music played, �Take a look at my body, look at my hands. There�s so much here that I don�t understand.�

An eternity passed, before the one who held them captive returned, bloodied fingers untying the blindfolds with a deceiving kind touch. �Do you remember the way you touched me before? All the trembling sweetness a long time ago. Your face-saving promises whispered like prayers� I don�t need them,� the woman�s voice continued, as the itchy cloth fell away, leaving the twins free to gaze upon the sinner before them.

Covered in blood and other fluids, chromatic eyes shining with a wild light, olive skin forever tainted� it couldn�t be him. He was dead, right? Dead and buried, right beside their parents� But in this nightmare, he was very much alive. Yes, Akio Mendego was alive and well, and it was obvious that he was the cruel soul who had damaged the twins so � his own flesh and blood, his own brothers.

That damnable silver pistol was in his hand, dirty fingers clinging to the trigger like it had two summers ago. Sacrilegious words spilled from bloodied lips, one that had been pierced clean through by over-eager pearly teeth, �Well is it dark enough, can you see me? Do you want me? Can you reach me? Oh, I�m leaving. You better shut your mouth, and hold your breath, and kiss me now, and catch your death.� He leaned forward, kissing Hiro first, and then Kane, those bloodstained lips oddly soft and convincing. And in a flash of the eye, the pistol went off. They awaited the pain, nearly impatient for the bullet to pierce their flesh and end their lives. But nothing came. Eyes unknowingly squeezed shut inched open, a gruesome sight blocking everything else out.

As it was two summers before, Akio's head was blown clean open, leaving a gaping wound that splurted blood like a demonic fountain. Burning red liquid splashed across the bound twins, running down abused ivory skin to mingle with the rest of the DNA identical fluid. Grey matter joined the blood, while bone chips flew in all directions, piercing the skin they encountered without a hint of resistance.

Mouths opened wide, trying so hard to scream out in terror, to announce to all the world that their precious older brother had just stole their innocence with his now soiled hands amd was now dead in a pool of his own creation. But nothing issued forth, except gobs of blood that stained the skin around their mouths along with their chapped lips; falling to the floor that was dissolving into nothingness.

The rough bindings that had kept their arms pinned above their heads fell from the hooks as those too disappeared. Somewhere in the distance, a lonely church bell rang, harsh brass tones echoing as shapeless black vapor swallowed everything in sight, extinguishing the screams that were finally ripped from raw throats like wet fingers to a candle's flame.

Before sound was wiped out completely, Akio's voice sang soft words, his voice damn near seductive in the ebon void, "How could love be so thoughtless, so cruel? When all that I did, I did for you."

Real piercing screams shattered the peace that had claimed the dorm for the night. Hearts were beating out of control, lungs forcing oxygen in and out at an alarming rate, sweat rolling off the terribly pale visages belonging to the Mendego twins. Horror had them tight in its' clutches, and planned to squeeze them for all they were worth. Thin bodies writhed, legs and arms flailing, successfully kicking off the sheets and light blankets that had covered them hours before when they had first climbed into their queen sized bed.

Tears shone in now open, but unseeing citrine eyes, cutting salty trails down deathly white cheeks. Shallow gasps pushing past bitten lips, identical trickles of blood running down their chins. Muted noises from the highway slowly brought them back to their dorm room, realizing they were grabbing at each other roughly, terrified to let go lest they be separated forever. The off-white ceiling above them slowly came into focus, their breathing deepening to a normal, barely audible pace.

Suddenly, the ceiling seemed like the most important thing to Hiro and Kane, a cream-colored lifeline they clung to for the rest of the night, no words spoken between the pair. Lying stock-still, apple green orbs out of focus, the slightly chilled air soaking up the sweat that remained on their skin, they refused to move or sleep. Both seemed dangerous, either option would tear them away from the harmless and innocent painted plaster that hung comforting over them.

And this was how morning found the twins, the both of them barely moving throughout the night except to push away from each other, an odd display that went unnoticed in the dim moonlit room. Bloodshot eyes eventually rolled to meet over the expanse of mere inches that separated Kane and Hiro, heads turning slightly to make it easier. Hands trembling with the aftermath of fear and exhaustion crossed the distance between them, fingers tightening almost painfully just to reassure the other that their twin was still beside them, if not doing so well, then at least alive and breathing.

Besides the fact that they were sleepless zombies who never wanted to let go of each other, or leave the bed they lay in, the morning held other news. It was Halloween, their 19th birthday that fell blessedly on a Sunday this year, so they wouldn�t have to attempt at their classes looking and feeling as they did. Someone upstairs must really have liked the twins to grant them that much of a break; all around the world people were being startled out of nightmares to find out that it was Monday, or even still Sunday, but getting up and following morning routine was necessary � they had lives to carry on with.

The sun rose high in the sky, drifting towards the west now as it began its� daily descent to the horizon so his sister could shine in her own subtle way in the dark night. And still the twins lay in their bed, sheets and blankets in a mussed heap at the foot of the bed, hands locked in a death-grip. In the back of their minds, they barely registered around 2 o�clock or so in the afternoon, a gentle then more insistent knocking on their door, until whoever was on the other side gave up with a sigh filled of mixed emotions.

At one point, they turned into each other, clinging desperately as they had just after the nightmare. Hiro�s body smelled of sweat, yet there was an underlying hint of strawberries and rain; Kane had a delicate musk of cream, sweat, and a hint of oranges. The phone rang sometime in the early evening, but neither young man made a move for it.

It was their 19th birthday, and the sunset that bathed the room was glorious, perfect for Halloween, as it were. By now, they had pulled themselves upright, arms still wrapped around the other, afraid to let go. Tired eyes watched the horizon devour the bright star, slowly turning the sky from a riot of oranges and pinks to a softening dusk, a lavender and then deep blue mural that boasted pinpricks of light that somehow outshone everything else, including the harvest moon. The orange of the moon and the black of the night � Nature�s own strikingly perfect Samhain display.

Keen citrine eyes picked out candle-lit grinning jack-o-lanterns, lips barely twitching in a smile. College students dressed up for the holiday in everything from bunny suits to elaborate Renaissance costumes, some already staggering from the heady effects of too much alcohol. Laughter and light conversation filtered through the glass windows, reaching Hiro and Kane�s ears, and somehow bringing them out of their trance-like state.

Both were in dire need of a shower, though neither really cared at this point. In slow motion, they disentangled themselves, reluctantly pulling out of the comforting embrace, separating fingers that were now full of pins and needles as they were carefully flexed. Kane rose to his feet first, relying on some hidden strength reserve to persuade his feet to carry him across the room to the door. Opening it with a tingling hand, curious eyes were greeted by a stack of presents with a note taped to the top, �For Hiro and Kane Mendego � Happy 19th Birthday! (Happy Halloween too!)� A little pumpkin bared his teeth in a not-so-threatening manner since it had large eyes and a fluffy tuft of hair drawn on the top of its� head; colored with orange and green Sharpies from the scent that lingered on the paper.

While his twin brought in the wrapped boxes, Hiro turned on their stereo, thankful for their CD collection as he pressed PLAY with an idle finger. �While We Were Hunting Rabbits,� a Matthew Good favorite of theirs, sprung from the speakers at a volume that wouldn�t bring complaints to their door, but loud enough to drown out any outside noise. Ignoring the kitchen completely, the writer wandered into the bathroom, thoughtfully glancing at the Jacuzzi bathtub. Yes, a hot bath was definitely in order � candles, bubbles, bath salts and all. After all, something had to go right today, it being their birthday and all. The presents were a lovely surprise, but they needed something more, a strong something that could erase the bad dream that lurked on the fringes of their minds.

Liquor would have done the job nicely, if the twins had kept any in their dorm fridge � which they hadn�t before, and never planned to. They had witnessed firsthand what the bitter brew could do to the strongest of men, and it wasn�t something they wanted to be a part of. At clubs and parties, they politely turned down every offer, sticking to their carbonated beverages with subtle smiles. Whoever had told them, so long ago, that watching drunks was much more amusing then being one of them had been truthful to the dot. Even though they giggled over the rims of their plastic cups, they would still rush faithfully to their friends� sides, holding back long hair and cleaning them up after the drunken college students had paid their homage to the porcelain goddess.

Kane deposited the loud colored packages on the desk he used for his sketching, a rational voice in the back of his head telling him that they could be opened later, that Hiro was more important. He couldn�t agree more as he crossed to the bathroom on slightly unsteady feet, his body feeling the strain of too many restless nights. Gently, he pushed open the half-closed bathroom door, the heady aromas of vanilla and jasmine washing over him the second he stepped in the room. Warmth radiated from the lit candles, bringing a content smile of his lips as he peeled out of his sweat-stained nightclothes with an apparent air of stiffness, muscles and joints groaning in collective protest as he did this.

Hiro was already naked, the candlelight accenting the dips and hollows his body naturally formed when he moved to close the door behind his twin, appreciative but hooded lime eyes trailing over the nude form identical to his own. Beckoning with a cajoling hand, the writer silently asked his brother to join him as he slipped into the hot water, a soft gasp escaping his lips at the near boiling temperature. Kane flicked on the massage jets before climbing in beside the other young man. The warmth, the soft fragrances, the dim lights - all playing a part in the calm atmosphere that hung over the verdant washroom.

A wave of drowsiness drifted over the pair as their muscles soaked up the heat, turning into gelatin. The artist moved closer to his barely younger brother, pulling the writer into his arms. Aside from a few sweet kisses that lingered on smiling lips, the most intimacy the bathroom witnessed that evening was the twins cuddling close to each other's lean body, the hot water bringing a dusting of light pink to their cheeks.

It certainly wasn�t the birthday they had had in mind when they had gone to bed the night before, but things always had a way of surprising you, of taking a twist you never thought to foresee. It was kind of like watching a movie and having the plot dive in the opposite direction of where you had thought it was going. Kind of an unnerving feeling, knowing your world could turn upside in a matter of seconds, if Fate saw it fit to do so. Fate could be deemed as having a rather twisted sense of humor for all the lives it �ruined� with its� games. But Hiro and Kane never considered themselves to be damned � they took each tragedy in stride, pulling themselves up when they had fallen, swallowing their tears and blood after a particularly nasty bout with Fate, moving on with their lives one day at a time.

Stretching languidly in the slowly cooling water, the young men looked at each other, eyes full to the brim with various emotions. Hiro�s stomach gave a plaintive growl, one that demanded food and drink in the near future, now being preferable. Slight trembles ran up and down their bodies, leaving gooseflesh in its� wake, signaling that the water was now much too cold to be enjoyed any further and the occupants should get out now before they got themselves sick. Following the silent orders, the twins rose in unison, water glistening on their pale skin under the attentive glow of the candles that still burned merrily.

Hiro wrapped a large fluffy baby blue towel around his brother, before grabbing one for himself, tucking it around his waist in a single motion. With a practiced grace that almost completely hid the fatigue that held firmly to his muscles and mind, the writer blew out the candles, and drained the tub, moving as if he had just woken up. In a way, it was like he had, he mused as he tugged on Kane�s arm, leading the drowsy college artist from the sauna-like bathroom.

Slow steps led them to their closet, where they quietly donned flannel pants and baggy t-shirts, even the soft rustle of clothing seeming too loud to their ears. Kane took Hiro�s hand into his own, squeezing it affectionately as they took one last longing look at the now jet-black sky, graced by the seemingly oversized ginger moon. Not a word was spoken for the remainder of the night; they drank their coffee in silken silence, the lights barely dispelling the darkness that hung in the kitchenette. The ebon air felt comforting, in a detached sort of way that the twins barely noticed. Mugs full of caffeinated bliss held their full attention, they hardly even looked at each other. Dark purple tinted the folds beneath tired chartreuse eyes, pale skin looked nearly translucent in the dim room. Minds full of jumbled thoughts wandered down paths that were overgrown from lack of use, snippets of songs weaving betwixt legs elegant enough to belong to a performer, as their imagination conjured up a mini-Hiro and a mini-Kane to travel those forgotten lanes.

A shower the next morning and a decent breakfast helped only slightly to soften the gaunt look the twins had retained. They hadn�t slept a wink the night before, hadn�t even talked, just turning into their own hobbies, seeking an unattainable solace. Kane used his pencils to sketch painstakingly accurate images from the nightmare, his mind refusing to let go of the gruesome details. Sheets of notebook paper were scattered around Hiro as he sat at the round table in their kitchen, pen working furiously across those faint blue lines. A scribble turning into a hateful letter, that letter shifting into a drawn out story, complete with life-like characters and a terrifying plot.

Kane left close to 7am for his morning classes, leaving Hiro to himself for another hour or so before his own classes started. Unusually dark green eyes stared back at their originals, his pale form hunched over before the mirror hanging on the outside of the double door closet. The writer had his knees drawn up to his cable knit sweater-covered chest, thin arms wrapped tightly around his bent legs. He rested his chin on top of his knees, sighing deeply as a tremor ran up and down his spine.

�So cold�� he whimpered, his voice soft and child-like. Loose jet-black tresses hung in his face, sharp contrast to the flawless pale skin that hid beneath the long hair. Fragments of the Akio nightmare still lingered like a sour aftertaste brought on by �grape� cough medicine.

Another puppy whimper came from behind closed lips, haunted bloodshot eyes looking at the strained reflection that stared back at the writer with an almost surreal intensity; almost like the boy was trying to shatter his despicable mirror self with his thoughts alone. And these thoughts flourished and withered in the span of mere moments; lyrics, inspirations, memories, poses, sexual tension, unspoken anonymous wishes � all perishing shortly after being born. A tragedy most people were known to take for granted; one Hiro tended to dwell on at the worse possible times.

He was small for his age, thin as a beanpole and weighing little more than a freshman in high school then one in college. His body betrayed him every step of the way. The strength his muscles harbored was encased by fragile porcelain skin that screamed vulnerability. Delicate facial features � high cheekbones, a nose that sloped gracefully yet was embellished with a childish roundness towards the tip, expressive lime eyes that could have easily been looking glasses into his soul � damned him with each new person he met. His cheeks were as smooth as a newborn�s, covered with mere peach fuzz. No stubble for this young man, no need to whip out a razor, shaving cream and the tangy aftershave every morning like his father had had to. A supple lilting voice, one associated with people who were shy or soft-spoken, or even a child.

People often underestimated him, though the compliments never ceased to flow. Fingers belonging to strangers or simple acquaintances would toy with his hair, examine his feminine hands, and comment on how exquisite and rare his type of beauty was. If he hadn�t heard it all before, if he heard it maybe once in a blue moon, he might have been flattered. Sometimes, Hiro wanted nothing more than to blend into the crowd, become faceless and unrecognizable, someone that wasn�t placed on pedestal.

He had lowered his eyes without even realizing it so he was staring at the mirror image of his feet, which were bare and just as dainty as his hands. The people he dared to call his friends, save for Lizzy, were masculine to the max. Most of them had cropped hair, the longest never coming past the back of their neck, and they were blond or brunette, though some had an affixation with dying their hair outrageous shades of orange, green and blue, and every other color imaginable whenever they felt the urge. Tan skin rippled with each contraction and extension of obvious strength. They were tall, they were handsome in each of their own ways, and they had grown up with the ideal lives. But they were equally clueless about the past that twins hid behind an all too convincing fa�ade.

Ever since that summer, laughter looked wrong on Hiro�s face. It didn�t seem to add up in his mind; how could he be happy when his brother and parents were dead? True, he still had Kane by his side, and nothing could ever change that� but he still felt guilty when he laughed or smiled, as if Akio would disapprove of such behavior.

�But what do you care what he thinks? He�s dead and buried, just like these foolish thoughts should be,� he scolded himself, eyes still riveted on his bare toes.

He couldn�t help but feel insignificant though, like he wasn�t good enough. Perhaps even that he should have died instead of Akio. But then where would Kane be without him? Would he have turned to the actor of the family for comfort? Would he have sought solace in between Akio�s sheets instead of his own? Would his hands touch that now rotting flesh the way they did on Hiro�s? Then his mind started wondering why he was even thinking such things. Was his life really that horrible? In retrospect, one would suppose not. He went to a top of the line art school, was working on his degree, succeeding in that task with the highest grades in his class, he lived with his brother who was his best friend (and so much more, not that anyone in Albany knew that), and though he never spoke of his family or childhood, most assumed that it had been something enviable. It was kind of funny how far off those simple minded guesses really were�

A sigh of some mixed emotion, sounding like reluctant defeat and self-pity all rolled into one, fogged up a patch of the mirror now that Hiro was looking up. Citrine eyes desperately searched the face in front of him, trying to find the answers to the endless train of questions that paraded around in his head. �Why couldn�t they be all dressed up in those flashy sequin skirts with the knee high boots and some fishnets?� he thought dryly, imagination running wild with the idea of his inquiries dressed to the nines for his amusement alone. Rough laughter fought its� way out of his throat, sounding foreign and out of place in the empty dorm room.

Impossibly deep chartreuse orbs bored into the ones the silvery mirror held. They were his most defining feature, or so everyone told him in the past and even now in present day. Small shoulders belonging to a girl�s frame remained hunched as Hiro watched himself. Those eyes were known to turn black in the heat of angry or the depths of sorrow, dark emerald in the throes of passion, and borderline neon green when he was bursting with happiness � a very rare occurrence indeed for the teen these days. Further more, Hiro�s eyes gave away everything even if his face did not, they were frightfully expressive and brutally honest.

Absently, his mind toyed with the idea of kidnapping Kane out of class and spending the day with him. It was tempting, but he knew he had his own classes to go to. �Did I even do my homework�?� he wondered, brushing back the dark locks that fell in his face with a tired hand. He vaguely remembered last night, full of excessive writing followed by typing that soon blended in with the sound of his breathing � barely audible. Little headphones had been shoved into his ears, drowning out any possible distractions with Amy Lee�s melodic poignant voice. Twice throughout the night that faded into morning, Hiro had pushed his chair back, glancing at Kane bent over his desk while reaching for a cold soda from the fridge.

The artist�s hair had been sloppily braided, strands sticking out all over the place, but it was effective for its� purpose � keeping the hair out of Kane�s face. His twin had looked up at one point, puffy green eyes meeting across the room, graphite smudges cut through by trails of salty liquid ruining the perfection of his exquisite face. Not a word was spoken, just weak smiles traded, then Kane returned to his drawings, leaving Hiro to stare at his back for sometime before he settled back into his chair with a quiet sigh.

But that recollection still didn�t answer his question. Unable to shake the chill that clung to his bones, he slowly disentangled himself from his own limbs, stretching his arms above his head; entwining his fingers for a few moments as he tried to wiggle the kinks out of his body. Taking one last look in the mirror, Hiro snorted, gave his reflection the finger, and then turned away.