Consecutive

Whistled tunes reverberated off the alley walls, getting tangled in the ivy that clung to the decaying cement like an abusive lover. His bare feet padded almost silently on the grass laden street, pumping out a gentle beat as he walked in time with his wordless love song. He was always whistling, it was a part of him like birds with their incessant songs, it was done without thought.

The alley converged with a busy street, and his tune hesitated as his gait faltered. Calm golden eyes scanned the crowd with a calculating intensity, the vibrant colors of the collective mass of various wardrobes played into a shifting rainbow before him. Greens. Blues. Yellows. Reds. He needed reds.

The lackadaisical tune stumbled back into existence as Tavis rolled forward, falling into the crowd and instantly melding into the social current that pushed and pulled him forward. He allowed himself to be ushered along, submerging himself into the ebbs and flows of the people, casually connecting shoulders with careless passerby and taking the liberty of reclaiming property that was not yet his. Scarlet fabrics, crimson sashes, blood-dyed leather, his collection grew and grew as he assimilated the articles of the specified color onto himself. Taking count of his new belongings, the boy casually stepped from the flow onto the calm shores of an alley.

A smile pulled at his mouth, and a cheerful tune dribbled out, quickly forming a robust melody that pulled long forgotten memories of a non-existent past from the bottom of his mind. As he let his mind wander, he thought of people, far away and long ago, singing and dancing to an array of primitive instruments that beat the tune of the earth. Fires burned gently around them, flowers grew from their footsteps. As the tribe danced in his mind’s eye their song spoke to some part of him locked deep away beneath his sleeping memories.

Shouts echoing against the green alley walls pulled Tavis from his faded visions. The boy stalled in his movement to turn and face the commotion. What he saw was not surprising; three young men, Dragon Fangs from the look of their orange and white colors, flanking an older gentleman against the ivy with curved white stone knives poised and ready. The Fangs were a local gang notorious for being full of themselves and assuming everything was theirs, you were just holding it for them. The man, distinguished with hair like flowing silver over his shoulders a trimmed gray beard and only slightly broken glasses, looked far too calm for being surrounded by murderous kids. His eyes barely strayed from the decrepit pages of the book that occupied his hands. Tavis watched from afar, curious of the man who seemed to have given up on his life already, all the while plotting an escape for the both of them. Most in their world would have walked away, choosing to ignore the scene for perhaps if they don’t see the blood their conscious will not be burdened. Others would watch, enjoying the sight of others’ pain as a refreshing alternative to their own miserable lives. Then there are those who would have joined the Fangs out of some personal thrill of blood and death. Tavis was rare. He cared for everyone, regardless of his relationship with them. His sister mocked him for it, but the boy wouldn’t abandon his love for all despite how rarely his efforts to help were reciprocated.

“I do wish you boys had something better to do than bother me on my way home,” The calm mediated voice was almost lost among the clamoring threats jabbed at him from the Fangs, but he didn't feel the need to make his words heard. Thugs all thought the same; their prey shouldn't talk, prey should simply die. One, presumably the leader, stood straighter as if making , laughing mockingly before sneering at the man.

“Are you serious?” He jeered, stabbing the air with his knife. “I said I was going to spill your guts if you don’t give us your caps, so just hand them over. I am being kind enough to spare your life, gramps, don’t make me be mean.” His cohorts chortled beside him, muttering like crows with anticipation of the kill.

The man didn’t glance up from his book and instead gently pushed his glasses further up his nose and lazily turned a page. Kids weren't worth his time, whether they were asking him why the sun is so big or threatening his life for money. His book on the scientific method was far more engaging. The leader of the trio frowned, mocking offense as he glanced around to his minions.

“I think this old geezers accepted ‘is fate already.” The teenager’s twisted grin spurred his cronies into action. The first leapt forward, his dagger arcing towards the man in a sloppy attack, his screeched war cry over-embellishing the severity of the situation.

One hand left the book, three fingers stiff as steel snaked past the white blade to stab into the thug’s arm, connecting silently with muscle and nerve. The kid’s determined yell shrieked off into pain as his arm fell limp and the blade fell away. Without a moment’s pause the man stepped in and thrust a blade-like hand into his neck, sending the thug sputtering to the ground in a spray of blood.

The second Fang blinked in confusion then leapt forward before really taking in what had happened. Just as fast, the slender old man stepped in and with a few jabs rendered the kid helpless before delivering his final strike.

After looking at the two with disdain, the man angled his head to the leader, white hair falling back from his face to show a rather amused expression as he lofted a brow.

“Are you quite through?” He asked, his tone buzzing with boredom one encounters while humoring children. Left with no comrades, the ring leader of the disbanded group looked confused, his mind still trying to wrap around the fight – if you could call it that- that had ended within seconds. Words trembled on his lips, mangling themselves upon the fear that gripped him and coming out in murmurs and small whines. His hands fumbled along the belt at his waist, fingers crawling along the leather in search of security.

“R-right” He squawked, voice cracking with fear. In a jerked, halting motion he withdrew a rusted gun sliding the hammer back and a defiant smile twisted across his lips. “Y-you know what this is, right gramps?” His words trembled with crazed power, he had the upper hand now. Pulling himself straighter, the thug laughed maniacally. “That’s right geezer, I’m gunna blow your brains out right here.”

“Is that so?” The man questioned softly, as if a child had told him the sun was hot, or water was wet. Unimpressed, he turned back to his book. “I doubt you have a bullet for it, though having it in the first place must mean you’re either a ranked Fang, or just a lowlife jekkal.” His words his like venom, the kid winced at the slang thrown at him.

“I ain’t no jekkal, old man.” He stepped forward and placed the mouth of the barrel to his victim’s forehead. “And I got bullets.” He grinned again. “Say goodbye grandpa.” He shrieked.

It all happened almost faster than Tavis’ brain could digest. The man’s hand once again left his book, thumb slipping behind the trigger while two sharp nailed fingers dug their way into the thug’s hand. His book was tossed upward as his second hand darted forward to the jugular exposed before him and with three fingers taunt, jabbed the kid’s Adam’s apple straight into his throat.

Tavis blinked, stunned at what he had just seen. Awestruck, he watched the old man catch his book as it fell. The stranger glanced down at the pile of gang kids around his feet chuckling quietly.

“Fools,” He muttered, dusting himself off and continuing down the alley without a backward glance.

Tavis blinked, still in a daze and not sure what to do. Then, something clicked inside him. He thought about his sister at home, and the other kids who tormented her while he was away. He wanted to protect her, but he was useless. Something shifted inside him, and his eyes sparked with purpose.

Gathering his thoughts together he barred them away for the time being. That man could teach him to be powerful, give him the tools for protecting his sister. However, for the present Tavis was on a job and still needed to keep focused on delivering the scraps of red on time. Their city was a small one, only one thousand people in it, everyone knew everyone else at some point and a man of that distinction would be easy to find.

The ten year old boy raced down the empty alleys of the city, vaulting over roots of the large trees that were fighting the concrete for space. As he flew down the grass laden paths he let his mind wander. His thoughts floated like feathers on the wind to long ago people racing through forests. Day dreams that seemed like memories to him haunted his vision with sweet melodies of simpler times and something stirred deep inside him. As he ran, a song formed on his lips, the words he knew as well as his own name but had never heard before. In some long dead language he sang robust tunes of the earth, grass, animals, and the spirit of all things and in his minds’ eye he could see shadows of the past running with him. Strange creatures he recognized despite never seeing them before. Large animals, with hooves that beat a song of pride into the ground beneath as powerful legs strode them forward, long manes flowing in the wind and tails streaming out behind like banners of freedom. Their long faces comforted Tavis, though he could never explain why, they felt like friends, children, and long lost family all at once.

These shadows, ghostly images he felt were not his memories to have, often manifested themselves. He never spoke of it, feeling he was just crazy. But all the while, the dreams were comforting to him.

“Oi!” A familiar call broke the song from his lips and Tavis jolted to a halt. During his day dreaming he had left the city limits and reached the base of Barthe Fray, the mountain that overlooked the city of Cookton. Before him was the mouth of a cave that stretched high enough for ten grown men to stand on one another’s shoulders, and wide enough to fit thirty people abreast with their arms stretched. Torches lined the cave walls, leading a ways down a tunnel before the walls opened into a vast cavern. Most of the cave opening was covered by a stone wall, on top of which a boy his own age was standing and watching Tavis as he approached.

“What’s the rush, Tav?” The boy called, leaning on the guard post that stretched from the top of the wall and reached almost to the roof of the cave. Tavis laughed, panting as he held out his arms to show the collection he’d gathered.

“Special delivery for the Miners!” He continued walking to the wooden door seated in the center of the wall, directly below the guard house. Inside was a small room, bare of furnishings with only a steel door on the other side. A slide in the door opened, and a mirror caught the light of the sun from the open door behind Taivs.

“’Oo goes dere?” A gruff voice ordered through the slot.

“I am Tavis, I bring red scraps for The Foreman, ordered special.” Tavis rolled his eyes and stood with his arms stretched, showcasing the prizes he bore. There was no answer, but a door sounded in the other room and the mirror disappeared from view.

“Oi, door keeper let ‘em in. Boss is esspecting him quick like, best not be keepin The Foreman waitin’.” Tavis shook his head as he listened to the small argument that ensued. Names were called, mothers insulted, but finally the door heaved inward and the boy from the wall sauntered into the frame.

“Well then, young Tavis, we best be off.” Zas bowed then bounced out of view. Tavis laughed and followed, finally letting his arms fall to the side and sliding his thumbs into his pockets as he nodded to the gruff old man picking his teeth in a hand-held mirror before following after Zas.

The passage’s dimly lit atmosphere reminded Tavis of festivals in the night; shadows played and danced along the walls like a troupe following the boys into the cave towards the sounds of boisterous laughter and instruments playing brash tunes. He stayed beside Zas, humming under his breath and matching his swaying gait to the melody of the music. Zas glanced sideways and laughed, draping an arm over the shorter boy and falling into step. The two lumbered out of the cave into a vast room filled with miners, welders, music and food. Benches and stools filled the spaces between long tables that stretched left and right laden with food, beer and people. A band occupied a larger table that acted as a stage in the middle of the room, though various instruments were being played everywhere in the Hall.

The sense of home filled the cavern, sounds of friends greeting each other and family laughing together. Tavis paused to take in the scene. Having been alone since the Gap, his sister was the only human being that spent time with him, and she was not much for company. Mean and cruel she mocked his desire to have a family, and for love. The sight of so many people, hugging, singing and generally showing even minute sense of affection confused him.

Zas didn’t notice his guest’s unease. Pulling the other boy through the crowd, he was accosted by men, women and children welcoming his return.

“Zas! you scoundrel where have you been all day?”

“Zas ’oose your friend?”

“Zas did you take my pants again?”

The burly men clapped him on the shoulder, and children hugged his knees. Everyone was so happy to see him, the emotions tickled Tavis’ senses like love finding a lad for the first time, a new feeling that was previously unknown but not an unwelcome addition to his life. He wanted more of this.

“Right, tha Foreman’s jus' up ahead” Zas waved a hand towards a table at the far end of the room. Tavis nodded and broke away from the small crowd that was clamoring around the other boy. He waded towards the table through the forest of arms and legs, swaying to the beat of the music.

“Ah! Tavis!” A man called out to him, standing from his position in the middle of the table and causing the women flaunting over him to titter before moving away. The man was large, barrel chest supporting thick arms covered in a dense carpet of black hair that seemed to sprout from his beard and infect the whole of his body, and his head in jealousy had stopped covering itself with the traitorous fur. The boy was dwarfed by the Foreman's size, and as in their previous meeting, Tavis felt nervous. The miner slapped a heavy hand onto the boy's shoulder, causing him to grunt under the weight.

“You've done well, m'boy. I love the titters and tatters you've collected.” He helped Tavis pick all of the scraps of red clothing and jewelry off his person, and laid them on the table alongside more scraps that had been collected the previous few days by their new errand boy. While the Foreman continued organizing the red garments, Tavis once again felt himself longing for the family around them, his gold eyes scanning the crowd like a dog looking at his master eating fresh meat.

“Right, so it was how many caps again...” The bear of a man trailed off while digging through a pouch at his hip.

“Ah... sir,” Tavis turned, his soft voice almost lost amid the crowd. “Might I …. could I possibly ask for a favor instead of payment?” He suddenly felt smaller than ever, as favors were not often given in their world and asking too much of someone -especially someone with power- often led to a knife through the skull. The Foreman looked down, his gray eyes seemed warm under furrowed brows of confusion. He nodded, bald head catching the torch light in a strangely alluring way. Tavis gulped. “Might I …. could my sister and I come here, to live with you?” He voiced the question he'd been forming for the past few days, his voice betrayed his fear, and he rushed into the speech he'd been preparing. “I will work very hard, and do whatever you want, we don't eat much and don't take up much space really, I know I'm small but--”

Bellowing laughter staved off the rest of his speech, and the Foreman slapped a hand down on Tavis' shoulder again.

“Of course, M'boy!” What happened next confused Tavis to the core. Tree trunk arms wrapped around his small frame and he was lifted off his feet into a warm embrace. The gesture was unsettling at first, but the boy felt a warmth he'd never experienced. Whispered words barely reached his ears as the Foreman addressed him.

“I know of your sister's condition lad, if you had not asked I would have offered.” The kindness melted into Tavis, a generosity matching his own was something he'd never found before. But something told him that this man truly cared. 'Go with him.' a voice whispered to his heart.

Once on his feet, Tavis looked around with new found hope. The Foreman grabbed the boys' shoulder gently and squeezed.

“Your room is already made up, you can bring Sivat here any time.” He smiled down before raising his head to the room around them. “OI OI!!”

“AHOY HOI!” The room answered their leader's bellowed call and fell into silence.

“This lad, and his sister will be joining us soon! Welcome our new little brother, Tavis!” The room erupted into cheers and sounds of love. Tavis felt his knees weaken from joy, and even as a multitude of people rushed him, patting his back, hugging him, shoving food into his hands, his mind was already in a sublime peace. Yes, things would be better now.

Across the town, Thorn lay curled up against a corner in the twins’ apartment. Her black world was still, nothing moved in her mind and no sound penetrated her silence. She sunk into the plant life that covered the walls, revealing in the sensation of leaves and vines pressing against her skin and arcing away from her as the girl pushed herself deeper in, attempting to bury herself in green. Her eyes remained closed, lost in thought, she drifted to sleep.

“Hey Thorny!” A harsh call from outside the door jerked her back from tormented dreams. The call might have been welcomed for saving her from nightmares chasing through her imagination, but the clamor that followed was a sign of far worse things to come.

Pounding on the door was accompanied by several young voices taunting her from the hall, asking her with dark intentions, to come and play. Thorn rose slowly, a smirk twitching at her lips. She’d endured the children’s torture for weeks now, ever since Tavis brought her to the refuge and told her they would be safe here. Every day Tavis left to scavenge for food, and scraps to sell. Every day the children found her and beat her, poked and prodded with their grubby fingers, abusing her lack of sight for a easy target. Tavis knew, the bruises all over his sister were plain. But despite his desperate pleas, she wouldn’t tell him who. ‘I’m blind,’ she’d say softly. ‘I can’t tell you.’

Now, she picked her way across the room, fumbling through the darkness to the door where her daily punishment awaited her.

“You really are pathetic,” The first voice that greeted her was like nails in her ear drums.

“Keil?” Thorn’s hurt was obvious in her voice, as she stared blindly through the dark towards the voice she had recognized among the gang of kids. Keil was a young boy, at 12 he was a year older than herself, and he had been kind to her in the past. Her first day here, Keil had helped her along the stairs to bring her to the gardens. His soft words were soothing, and his gentle hands were welcomed on her arms. Now, he was standing before her with them, the demons who tormented her simply because she could not fight back. She couldn’t believe it.

“Yes, Sivat, it’s me.” His voice, calmer now, was most certainly that of Keil. Though his soft words were now twisted with sick humor. “I pitied you, girl, but you are nothing short of a tumor on this world. You open this door every day and allow them to have their way with you. I see now you are not something to be pitied, you are something that needs to be eradicated. This world has no use for someone as sad a creature as you.” In that moment, as he reamed daggers of hate into her mind, Thorn felt her heart break. He was the first boy other than her twin to be kind to her. And now, he was telling her he had been kind out of pity. Pity?

The foundation of her mind cracked like a twig, and as it crumbled she felt the caged bird in her chest die once more, snapped up by something sinister that ate at her heart like a plague. Pity? No, it was he who should be pitied. It was those who fed upon others’ misery who should be pitied. It was those that earned her pity, which should be eradicated from existence.

“I…” She whispered softly, her breath almost swallowing her words. “I pity you.”

Before her, the children fell quiet as Keil hushed them.

“You pity me?” He asked accusingly, like some king being threatened by a beggar. “You useless excuse for a girl, pity me?” His laughter pierced her mind, adding fuel to the black fire that was rampaging through her head.

For a second, it seemed as though Thorn was frozen, her black eyes met Keil’s and her labored breathing ceased. She stood there, staring at him as if she could see him through her blindness. Then, she shook. It started in her stomach, rose to her chest then burst from her mouth, a deep spirited cackle that chilled the orphans before her. Keil stepped back, confusion on his face as the girl proceeded to laugh louder, and harder, her hands gripping the air beside her like claws. She doubled over, grabbing her stomach as if the laughter was going to rip her apart. The pitch rose to an eerie shriek that ate at the kids like acid on their confidence.

“Yes, foolish boy, I pity you!” She arced upwards, her head rolling to one side as she stared at him with wide, blackened eyes and a crooked grin, hair falling in cascades of shadow over her face. “You seem to think you are worth more than me, but all of you here are worth less than the cockroaches that scream in your ears at night. Your parents left you alone to die and yet you feel as though you are more important than me?” She whipped forward, fingers connecting with Keil’s mouth and forcing their way in to grab his cheek. His screams were ignored, and Thorn pulled him close, her pointed nails pierced through his skin. Both hands gripped his cheeks and with a sick grin, she pulled his mouth apart, tearing his face in two.

Blood pooled around her feet as she dropped Keil to the floor and his tormented cries fed the monster that curled around her heart. . The twisted grin beneath pure black eyes was a memory that would be etched into the orphans’ nightmares for eternity. His shrieks echoed through the hall and those that had gathered fled for their lives, leaving their comrade without a second glance. Thorn looked blindly down at Keil as he writhed on the floor.

“Yes, I pity you.”

She sat on his stomach, humming quietly a tune that always tugged at her mind. Thorn slid her hands down his arms like a lover feeling his muscles with yearning lust. She caressed his fingers, entwining her own between them before snapping each one. Her smile was soft, tender almost, as her clawed nails traced through his skin back up his arms leaving bloody gouges like sick tattoos as homage to her own joy. Her smile twisted and contorted into differing levels of elation, pulled and prodded by his screams and protests. After a while, his cries faded into whimpers as he was meticulously broken into pieces.

Finally, he stopped twitching. His last whine breathed out almost silently. Thorn stood, satisfied with the contorted mess she had made. Straightening her shirt, the girl hummed the melody, pulling the door shut behind her as she padded back into her corner.

“Oh no...” Shock hit the young boy as he stared, frozen, at the broken bloody mess of a body heaped outside their door. Terror engraved into the corpse's face sunk deep into Tavis' mind. He felt the blood drain from his body into his legs. He wanted to run, to get away, to pretend he hadn't seen it and more so- to pretend he didn't know who killed the boy before him.

Slowly, he pushed the door open and followed the bloody trail to his sister, sleeping in the corner. Golden eyes cast downward to take in the sight of his twin buried in the ivy, covered in drying blood and fast asleep. There was something dark in his sister, he knew. But he'd never thought it would break free. Tears bit at his eyes, and fought to control the sadness welling in his chest like a cold stone.

Turning away, he pulled a large sleigh bell from his pocket and quietly tied it to his right hip. The noise allowed Sivat to follow him without much consequence and on her own accord. Looking around, he realized they didn't have any belongings worth taking. A few glittering treasures he had found fascinating, oddly shaped skulls Sivat had collected. They had only the clothing they wore, and nothing of value to take with them.

“So much for packing...” He whispered, sliding through the ivy to sit beside his twin. Forcing his gaze forward, he quelled the rustling anguish in his throat. He knew this was only the beginning. But, even as the thought rose, he knew he would stay by her side for all of their lives. He would continue to turn a blind eye to her evil, and hate. He would protect his sister, and her tortured soul.

Drifting off to sleep, he slid down the wall to lay on the plant life growing on the dusty floor. Yes, he would follow her, and keep her safe. Regardless of her actions, she was his sister.

Fear edged into the back of her throat as she saw him once again. He sauntered almost lazily, but at the same time he was closing the gap between them as if he was sprinting. Her heart fluttered like a spasmodic bird, wings thudding against her chest making her ribs ache. The girl, frightened of this real life boogie man, tugged on her brother’s sleeve. Tavis glanced over his shoulder, his eyes twitched wider before turning and vaulting off the rooftop onto the shed below it.

“Jump!” He yelled, gesturing wildly for his sister to fall to him. Sivat glanced behind. The bird fell dead in her chest. Cold eyes met her gaze. She could feel his breath on her cheek as he grinned, the sinister spark in his eye seemed to light his pupil aflame with a dark purpose.

“Hello, my sweet.” His voice was like honeyed poison, sweet but malevolent with a perverted sense of trust.  Sivat’s lungs seemed to freeze. Her body became rock, solid and tensed as if ready to spring but her brain wouldn’t give the signal. She was caught, like a rabbit cornered by a wolf, all she could do was stare into his eyes and the void they carried.

“I’m afraid this is where I leave you.” The man’s twisted grin seemed to consume his entire face, the corrupted sense of joy threatening to split his skull.

As his hand touched her shoulder, she felt her skin tare from her body. A scream flew from her lips and she watched as her flesh shredded around his fingers, her muscle twisted and stretched to fuse with his wrist, arm and body.  

He was consuming her. Body and soul.

Something ruptured deep inside the girl. Amidst the agony she felt something dark open wide in her soul. She could no longer see what was happening. Every sense was lost except her body being ripped apart at the seams. Her scream became louder, and higher than before no longer human it was the sound of torment, anguish, and hatred.

Then nothing. 

Opened eyes meant nothing as Sivat bolted upright in her bed of leaves only to be surrounded by cold darkness that was no different than being blindfolded. Sweat dripped from her back, she felt it dribbling down her near-naked body as she shook in the lingering terror of her nightmarish memory that constantly plagued her sleeping mind. Her last moments of sight had become a recurring dream that haunted her almost every night. A growl let loose in her throat and her hand lashed out to the right to punch the snoring man beside her. 
“Tavis.” Her voice cut through the night like cold steel. Beside her a bell jingled as her brother jumped up.
“Huh!? Wha!?” His incoherent bursts of noise, half asleep, were accompanied by the unsheathing of a knife. 
“You dolt. Put that away.” Maturity was something children of their world gained quickly, and even only eleven years old, Sivat acted older than most adults. The girl growled as Tavis sighed hazily and ruffled her hair. 
“What is it, Si-“
“I told you not to call me that.” Sivat kicked at her brother, landing a heel into his ribs. He gave a short grunt of pain followed by the familiar sullen silence of Tavis frowning at the girl. Though she could not see them, she knew his eyes were full of sadness as he inwardly missed the quiet, removed girl that had been his sister. The angry child pulled her knees to her chest and sank her head into the space such a position created, ignoring the lengths of black hair that fell around her face. Her hand rested on her right shoulder, fingers gently tracing the scarred flesh.
“Why? Why was he chasing me….?” Her words were no longer demanding and callous but that of a scared eleven year old girl. It had been three years since the strange man had tried to kill her, but she wouldn’t ever forget his face, the last thing her eyes would ever behold. She felt her brother shift, and she knew he was reaching out to her. Silence was golden, but the complete lack of noise that followed was nothing but dark melancholy. After several long moments of aching nothing, she felt a hand on hers that steadied her absent movement along the memory of that day. 
“I don’t know.” The laughter that seemed to always lurk behind his voice was absent, making Sivat feel suddenly cold. She knew the answer, but she always asked hoping for a different one. She looked up to face him, and felt as he sank slightly. She looked at him blindly, but she always seemed to look right into his eyes and, as he felt it, right through to his soul. Her sightless orbs were pitch black, no iris or whites only inky darkness, and reflected no light. Instead they seemed to absorb everything they looked at. Resting in her pale white face seemed to make them darker, more sinister and always reminded Tavis of his failure to protect her. 
“I want to know.” Tavis blinked slightly in confusion. Sivat’s tone suddenly changed and, once again, he felt somewhere in his heart that his sister was gone, replaced with a monster. As he watched her, there was a sudden spark in her dead eyes. Her face became etched with determination and hatred. 
The ghost of a memory fluttered through his mind and he shuddered as that scream of torment echoed behind his ears. The shriek she had made that day, one of anguish and a loathing too deep for anyone to comprehend, always haunted him; now, though her mouth was shut, it seemed as though her cry had just shattered into his heart. He knew that the girl before him was no longer his sister. 
She was an animal of pure instinct and hostility that had been unleashed into this world. As Tavis stared at her his heart sank into a state of acceptance. He knew he would protect her. He knew he would follow her. He knew he would stay by her side for the shred of hope that his innocent sister would someday surface.

“S-- Thorn,” He corrected himself quickly, before earning himself another blow to the ribs. “I have found us a place to stay, a place where you won't be picked on or beaten when I'm gone.” His smile had returned, showing his innate ability to shake off his sadness and play the carefree brother. He watched his sister carefully, registering her reaction. She picked at her boots sitting next to her, running a finger over the nails she'd forced through the inside to form spikes in the leather.

“Where?” Her tone was low, but betrayed her curiosity. Something in her mood didn't settle with Taivs.

“You... Thorn, you cannot kill again.” He said softly, bracing himself for a blow from the girl. When she did not respond and only continued playing with her shoes, he continued. “These people, they are letting us live with them for free. I don't have to work nearly as much which means I'll get to be with you more often.” He smiled, truly happy of that. “But, you cannot kill anyone there.... please.”

Thorn remained silent for a time, absentmindedly toying with the nails. The monster in her chest was laughing at her soft brother, and despite her efforts a smile twitched at her lips. Silly boy, he could never understand her need. He only saw the good in people, never looking at the bad. Never seeing those who needed to be eradicated from the world.

“You're right.” She whispered, pricking her finger on the pointed tip of a rusty spike. “It would not sit well with our new family for me to hurt anyone.” Beside her, Tavis breathed a sigh of relief. Smirking, she punched him, landing a solid hit to his arm. He laughed lightly, something he'd begun to do whenever she hurt him.

“Come on, we can leave this place now.” He stood, bell jingling, and walked about the apartment while Sivat pulled her boots on.

“Where is it?” She called. As she blindly laced, a strange smile twitched across her red lips even though her arms were being scratched by the rose thorns sewn into her pants. The pain reminded her that she was alive.

“The mountain, the Miners that harvest the coal inside are wonderful people!” His words tumbled like a sled gathering speed down a hill. “There is music, and dancing, and laughing! Everyone's so happy there, Thorn! And they hug each other, and they help each other- and the food! There's so much food there they don't even fight over it!”

Thorn tuned him out as he rambled on, like a puppy chewing on a new toy. Something in her called to the mine, it always had. But something else weighed heavy on her thoughts. Keil had been the first human she'd murdered and somehow Tavis spoke as if it was just the beginning, as if he had known this was going to happen all along. Of course, he knew her better than she knew herself that much had always been true.

She wouldn't kill any of the miners, she had meant that much. But anyone who wasn't aligned with their new family was fair game. These thoughts soothed the dark, writhing in her chest. Thoughts of more blood and plans for far darker things seemed to please something in her.

“Well, lets go then!” Tavis whirled around, bell sounding wildly making Thorn grimace at the noise reverberating through the quiet.

“Tck. I hope I can find some quiet places there.” She said softly, following her jingling brother out of the door.

It had been less than a week in the mines, but it was difficult to tell exactly how long it had been. The distant rhythm of the pick axes had become a comfort to Thorn's hyper-sensitive hearing, their constant noise never leaving her alone in silence. Their room was located at the end of a long hall of living quarters for the Miners and their families, but most of the children and mothers left during the day, leaving Thorn alone in the cool dark.

The stones were less comfortable than the vines of their old rooms, some of the cold rocks had moss growing which was soft and, though wet to the touch, spongy and made for a nice bed. Dripping off the spiked ceiling, water sounded all around her weaving a duet of rhythm with the distant miners chipping away at the mountain. It was soothing.

The rooms were fashioned from wooden walls that were built into small rooms for one or two people and larger rooms for families with children. The outside walls were formed by the edge of the cave as were the floors and ceiling. Beds, a dresser and nightstand was usually all that furnished them. It was homey, in it's own way.

Alone, Thorn did much the same as she did in their leafy bedrooms of before, leaning against the walls she listened and mapped out noises in around her. Since losing her sight, she had trained herself to map out where a noise came from, giving her a working 'sight' from knowing where things were. She had Tavis buy bells, most of which were fashioned to doors and things around the room, bu the largest of all was hung from his belt on the right side, giving her a point of reference at all times.

However, when Tavis was gone she was reminded of how blind, and helpless she was.

As she lay there, contemplating things of her life, she felt something tickle across her leg. Slowly, she shifted, allowing whatever was crawling along her leg more room to walk across her skin. A gentle smile twitched across her lips in the dark. Spiders often crawled across her skin, since she couldn't see them they never bothered her. She put a hand down in the spider's path, then waited.

“Ah, you're a smart one...” She whispered as the crawling stopped just before her fingers. She waited, patiently, and began humming a song under her breath. Sensing no threat, the spider slowly crawled onto her hand. “There you go, my sweet.” She cooed, curling her fingers gently and lifting her hand to her face. She looked blindly at the creature as it crawled across her fingers, and onto her hand.

It was these sort of interactions that kept her amused throughout the day. Listening to conversations from the miners outside, following the patterns of life that flowed through the caves, and exploring the room they now lived in.

She had already spent the past few days memorizing every rock, and crevice on the floor to better have a working map of the layout in her mind. When Tavis was gone, she used her knowledge of the room to navigate her way around.

Time passed, and soon the sounds of men rushing past the living quarters to the communal baths filled Thorn's mind. The changing of shifts included miners going from the mine, to the baths and then to dinner while others, who had been asleep all day moved from their rooms into the dining hall then off the the mines. Everyone ate dinner together, all shifts, families and leaders. Tavis usually did not get home till the middle of dinner.

She sat there, letting the small spider crawl over her fingers and relaxing in the rhythmic rumbling of the mountain cave. Slowly, she drifted into sleep.

“Thorn?” A voice close to her right startled the girl, and a rock flew from her hand smacking into a soft target. “Ow! Hey, what the fuck?” The boy near her whined, rubbing his arm even though a wild grin was on his face.

“Don't sneak up on me.” Her voice was flat and angry, cutting through the dark like a knife that made the boy flinch. Her aim had shocked him, and he sat there, looking at the strange girl as she glared directly into his eyes. The blackened orbs sent shudders down his spine, she scared everyone in the caves that had met her. She stood, looking down at him with black eyes. He was terrified, but she was hauntingly beautiful.

“Oh relax, woman, it's just me.” His voice, now joking and sweet, was one Thorn had already come to hate.

“Zachary.” She growled, turning away and sitting back down facing the wall. She curled and uncurled her fingers, realizing she must have dozed off and the spider had left her. Behind her, Zas stood slowly and dusted his knees.

“Yes, though I really wish you wouldn't call me that. It's terribly dull.” The boy feigned wounded pride as he rubbed his arm. “You've got good aim for a blind girl...” He studied her for a moment, cataloging each feature of hers and storing it away without any conscious effort – something he always did.

“And what, should slur your name into one syllable like every other dolt around here?” Her cold words cut into the boy like a mother chiding her son for stupidity. Thorn had hated the boy from the first moment his gratingly cheerful voice accosted her ears. He was a bad influence on Tavis, sending her brother into a merry stupor whenever he was around. She felt the two needed to just fuck and get it over with.

“Why are you here?” She turned her blind eyes to him, thin brows arcing downward in annoyance.

“I thought I'd bring you to dinner, so Tavis could head straight there instead of coming to get you first.” The young leader's voice was full of necessity, he was simply carrying out a duty to aid one of his men. However, Thorn could sense the underlying motive.

“I doubt Tavis will understand you are trying to do him a nicety because you are infatuated with him.” She leaned sideways against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest and staring at the darkness between her and the wall she knew was in front of her. Zas opened his mouth, the closed it. She'd once again read through him, unsettling and annoying as it was, she was right.

Zas had fallen for Tavis the day he'd run into the kid on the street, trying to steal food. Zas had charmed his way into the merchant's heart and convinced him it was an accident that apple was in Tavis' hand then told the other boy they had to go see the doctor and fled into the alleys with him.

Shortly after their first encounter, Zachary had told his elder brother, the Foreman, about the strange boy and, commenting that he was in need of a errand boy, the Foreman summoned Tavis and sent him on a mission.

Once the siblings had moved in, Zas had used the proximity as an excuse to be around Tavis more and more. Thorn had taken notice of the hyper active boy's approach to her brother and was irritated with him.

“Well, tha's not the point, now is it?” The elaborate kid bowed to the girl despite the fact she couldn't see him. “Now, as I was saying, care to join me for dinner?” He held out a hand to her. Thorn paused for a moment, her dark brows arching downward over her pit-less eyes then sighed.

“Fine,” she growled, shifting to stand up and getting Zachary's outstretched hand in her mouth. “Arrrgg!” She snarled and bit down on his fingers in surprise.

“Ow, you bitch!” Zas instinctively kicked out at her, pulling his hand free and grabbing it protectively to his chest. Thorn toppled over and kicked out at his legs, landing one foot squarely on his knee. He yelped and fell backwards to save his leg from bending a way it shouldn't. They sat there a moment, Zas clutching his hand and Thorn crouched defensively.

“I don't need help.” Was all she said, raising herself to her feet and stranding tall. Zas looked up at her and shook his head.

“Yea, yea, you're a big strong girl, I get it.” He waved his arms in exasperation at her, turning and walking to the door. Behind him, Thorn hesitated.

“You walk to quietly.” She mumbled, glaring at the space next to him. Zas turned, tilting his head as he studied her once more. So that was it, she focused on sound, honing in on it and using it to locate people. So her “uncanny blind ways” were really just a skill she'd sharpened in her dark world. The sudden uncertainty in the strong willed girl was amusing, like when the giant miners stubbed a toe and whimpered like a babe. It was something that soothed Zas, his heart temporarily reaching out to the girl and in that moment he grasped a deeper understanding of her.

“Do you have a suggestion?” He asked, stepped closer and watching as she adjusted her gaze to him. She looked down for a moment in thought, then shrugged.

“Tavis has a bell,” She gestured to her hip, “He keeps is here so I can hear him when he walks... he's always so bouncy it never stops ringing....” As he watched her, Zas side stepped silently, moving away from her last bearing on him. After a moment, he whistled a tune he'd heard from Tavis' lips.

Her blind eyes snapped to him like a bird catching sight of its prey. Zas grinned and continued to whistle, deviating from the tune a bit and adding his own variations on the melody. He walked out the door slowly, whistling over his shoulder. Thorn snorted, shaking her head in irritation but following. Inwardly, she was thankful for the obnoxious boy. He was loud, ego-driven and unnervingly happy but he was kind to her. She followed slowly, stumbling from time to time as he did not have Tavis' experience in guiding her. Then she sang the words to the tune being whistled.

“Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree,

Merry Merry King of the bushes he,

Laugh, kookaburra laugh,

kookaburra gay a life has he,”

Her sweet voice echoed off the walls, momentarily causing her to lose the whistled tune. Zas paused, startled into silence by her voice, sweet as the morning dew and gentle as a light summers' breeze. Not at all the song voice he'd expected from one as hard as her.

They made their way through the halls, Thorn occasionally adding the next verse, though once they came across people she fell into silence. Zas noted his and cataloged 'self conscious' in his mental data for her.

Just before the doors to the grand hall, Thorn skipped forward and snatched Zas' arm. He yelped like a puppy anticipating a beating. Thorn gently squeezed his arm, pulling closer as she looked straight to the ground.

“I'll get lost in there....” She mumbled, red twinging on her cheeks. Zas' brain fumbled like a horny school boy as the young girl pressed closer to him. Heaving a sigh, the boy shook his head.

“Have it your way,” He laughed, pulling her into the crowd. He led them to the main table where Zas seated Thorn at the end, putting a fork and spoon in each of her hands. Thorn scowled.

“I don't need to be babied.” She jabbed her fork into a potato. Zas grinned but didn't answer. He turned to scan the crowd, watching the miners' families funnel into the hall. Small children pranced to the kids' table while mothers set up dishes and food. The boy stood by the leaders' table at easy attention, legs apart with hands behind his back. It had become something of a habit to stand like this when he was surveying people, his brother mocked him for being too formal.

“You know he won't be back for a bit, right?” Thorn's dull tone reached out from behind him. Zas leaned back a bit, twisting so only his torso faced the girl then turned back to face the hall.

“Yes, I know....” He muttered, his green eyes cast down for a moment. Turning on his heel, the minor miner stalked around the table and slid into a chair next to Thorn. She didn't turn away from her food but grunted recognition of his presence. Zas sat for a moment, a frown lining his face as he thought deeply about his next words.

“He … doesn't know at all does he?” Zas questioned, prodding a spoon absent mindedly. Thorn chuckled.

“No, unfortunately my brother is an idiot.” Her tone suggested just how amused she was at the boy's peculiar situation. Zas growled but said nothing more, instead he jabbed into a hunk of meat and chewed thoughtfully.

They ate silently and sat waiting long after all the men had joined the hall from the mines. Thorn listened with mild disdain at the children rush to hug their fathers, and the women folk laughing together. Human interaction puzzled her, but she was always listening in hope of finding the key that would give some glimmer of meaning. Zas did much the same, studying the crowd with a casual look as he munched on a cookie.

“What is taking that twit?” Thorn growled through her mouth full of biscuit.

The streets were a maze to those who did not travel them often. Alleys cris-crossing the expanse of buildings were breeding grounds for trouble with small time gangs. Every corner turned could bring an inexperienced wanderer face to face with a bone claw-knife or the business end of a javelin. Bodies were the potpourri of the back-ways, trophies of jeckls trying to prove themselves to the higher gangs. Behind dumpsters rapists brought their child-victims to wreak havoc on the small bodies, shooing away addicts in the process and rarely taking the time to sweep dirty needles out of the way.

Tavis found the alleys difficult to maneuver though not for their dangers; he had never been one to walk away from anyone in need. It was faster to race along the rooftops, though admittedly it was not any easier on his conscience. His feet pounded a rhythm onto the roofs, making the city into his drums, the murmur of foot traffic below thrummed like guitars and screams were like trumpet highlights to the song he formed to a familiar tune.

His tawny eyes scanned the track of his route, planning each jump only seconds before it happened. He was searching for the steel chimneys, where the white haired man had been rumored to live. The past two weeks, when not working for The Foreman had been spent asking around for the man he'd set his mind on finding.

Faolan was the name he went by, his age was unknown as was almost anything else about him. It was clear he was a scientist of sorts, an occupation in itself a mystery, studying things no one cared enough to know about. He wandered throughout the entire city though he supposedly lived in a large facility whose old purpose was unknown, and people had used “snoody, conceded, condescending, and rude” to describe what little interactions had been exchanged. He wasn't liked however it didn't seem he was hated either. Learned people in this world were hated at best, and therefore Tavis assumed most negative feelings about this man stemmed from his being an intellectual.

There! The steel spokes of ancient technology speared the sky like some Greek hero challenging the gods, puffing smoke into the face of Zeus himself. The building itself was a marvel, large pieces of it's shell had been constructed with the tempered steel that refused to deteriorate while other portions were brick that had given themselves to the ivy that was doing its best to own the entire surface. The metallic shields of time reflected the setting sun onto the cloak of vines, setting ablaze the building that now consumed Tavis' vision.

Something caught in the boy's chest like a gasp that had gotten caught on his ribs and refused to be let loose. The torched scene before him brought dreams of ancient times to his thoughts too real for his liking. Echoes of plane engine whines exploding into roars of fire shook his being to its roots. Sorrow overcame his senses as he felt the force of twin effigies of human evolution fall to their death somewhere in the past.

After what seemed like an eternity breath forced its way past his gaping mouth and swept him back into the present. These haunting memories had been increasing since the twins moved into the mines. Something about the chill air in the damp stone caves seemed to be waking a part of him as though the heavy smell of dirt was calling. A flash of a dream coasted into his mind, as he thought of this other piece of him stirring. Blue lips, and blue hair was all he could see.

“Stop that, Tavis.” He muttered to himself, shaking his head to bring everything back to focus. Golden eyes narrowed with purpose and he descended the rooftop with the careful footing of goats on the mountain. The building loomed higher than he'd first measured now that he was at its base. The sun had set, taking the fire from the ivy and leaving the green-spotted metal shell dark like water in the cove.

The boy was two steps from the side entrance door when it swung inward quickly, the wiry frame of Faolan filling the space almost as quickly. His glasses shone from the last of the sunlight, obscuring his eyes as he angled his head towards Tavis. White hair cascaded around his shoulders as he stooped to a knee, silver eyes bore into gold with an intensity that made Tavis shudder. He felt something in his chest shift for a moment like a beast moving to rise before deciding to stay down and quickly, the feeling passed.

“Why have you been looking for me?” His cool voice passed to Tavis like a mountain spring over ticking cogs. The boy blinked, confused. The voice sounded incredibly familiar, calling to him from long before the Gap. Certain things could be remembered from before the dark, it was rare though, and often banished as childs tales. Four years ago, everyone just woke up. Different ages, different races, and no one knowing why. It had been nick named “the gap” due to the obvious gap in knowledge.

“I asked you a question, child.” Faolan's voice pulled him back into steal gray eyes.

“I saw you in the alley a few weeks back, ” Rehearsed words dribbled over nervous lips and Tavis forced himself to stare right back at the man before him. “You were amazing, and I wish to learn from you.” With that, he sank to his knees and leaned his forehead to the broken pavement with his hands near his head. It was not a pose he'd never witnessed but it seemed right.

Faolan blinked for a moment, regarding the bow of one offering himself as a pupil of martial arts with a solemn understanding of something more than just a kid wanting to learn to hit people. White hair shone like silver in the half light as Faolan shook his head slowly.

“I don't know what you think you saw, but I am merely a scientist, boy.” The man looked down with a frown darkening his features.

Tavis didn't move from his bow. Faolan sighed and let out a low growl.

“Go home, boy.” With that, Tavis heard the door swing shut. Standing and dusting off his knees, he went home.

Dripping water in the dark gave an illusion of chilled damp to the dry, warmed room. A stove in the corner glowed faintly and it's heat permeated the air; crackles and pops from wood burning along coal aligned with the leaking water to create a haunting background that if one was careful enough to listen could be twisted into a quiet melody.

The quiet was soothing after being in the city all day, allowing his mind to recuperate from the horrors of the human race he walked through every day. He listened to the melodies of the night with eyes closed and calm breaths while feeling his muscles relax and heal. Children whimpered in the room on his right, nightmares piercing their sleeping minds and stirring their bodies to move, sheets and blankets rustling. In the distance, if he let his mind wander and sink low enough he could hear the ever-present chiming of pick axes in the lower reaches of the mine.

Next to him, Sivat stirred. Her mutterings brought to mind the fear of the day he knew was racing through her dreams. His heart ached for her while guilt attacked his heart like a rabid dog to a child. That day, he'd failed to protect her. Because he could not fight. That man, so sinister man so smooth he could talk a nun into bed, had found them in the street and called her name like some forgotten relative. In that instant, something in Tavis had been sent into a panic and somehow he knew the man wanted to kill them. But something else had dug it's way into his guilt and infected it into a deeper sense of self-loathing like a worm making it's home into a rotten apple and creating a festering hole of decay.

His child year old mind played the scene back in his mind's eye with a unwilling limp down memory alley. On the roof the man had done something to his sister, he had been too far down to see but he remembered the scream like a soul being dragged to hell through all the pain of humanity combined. He'd heaved himself back onto the roof to see the man's eyes glowing red like the devil himself, a grin of violence stretched across his face shattering his good looks. Sivat's skin seemed to be splintering off from her shoulder and swirling up the phantom's hand like a swarm of broken wood into a vortex hidden in his sleeve. Screaming out some incoherent protest he stepped forward though every nerve in his body was telling his legs to flee.

Eyes filled with blood turned to fix the child in a hungry stare above a mouth falling from euphoria to despaired confusion. For the moment, only blood rushing past his ears filled Tavis' hearing though he had been crying out. Grabbing a plank he swung wildly at the specter of anger and violence tearing his sister apart.

Eyes turned white and held Tavis in a vice of terror.

“It's you. Not her.” Something seemed to occur to the man and he laughed, head thrown back as the maniacal hysterics wracked his being. After that, Tavis felt something strange come over him like water rolling over his arms. The plank in his hands connected with the man's head, and the boy turned to grab his sister and run before making sure he was down.

Now, in the dark room the words echoed in him like a knife to his heart. 'It's you.' He had been the intended target, not his sister. Anger boiled in him surpassing his guilt for a moment before a calmness washed over him like soft ocean waves brushing sand into serene picture of zen and he slipped into sleep.