Unholy Intent

“Welcome home, Brother.”

I look up at Damian. Beautiful Damian.

He shifts his gaze to mine. 

“Didn’t I tell you to leave the locked doors alone?” he asks me, but his voice is strange. Echoing in this dusty, forgotten place.

The music starts again. That eerie sound of piano keys played slowly, so fitting to this place, this room, this house. 

My head is spinning. 

The other man, Damian’s brother, says something. His voice is similar to Damian’s but off. Like his face. Wrong.

Damian tucks hair behind my ear. 

I push his hand away, push his arms away. I turn slowly. They’re both watching me now, waiting to see what I’ll do. 

And the tune keeps playing, the chords slow. Sad.

I need to look at him. 

Can they hear my heartbeat? Blood beats like a drum against my ears. 

Run.

Run.

But I can’t run. I meet a monster at every turn. One standing behind me. The other holding me. 

He warned me about the monsters. How many more hide in this house?

“Cristina,” Damian says. 

I keep turning, my body still pressed to Damian’s.

I’ve taken shelter in my enemy’s arms. 

He’s in my periphery now. The monster. The brother. Tall, like Damian. I see the coat. It’s wet. He was the man walking back toward the house. It wasn’t Damian at all. What is out there that they go to see in the dead of night?

Dark hair. 

Identical twins. 

It’s easy to tell them apart now though. 

My eyes finally find the monster’s eyes. My breath catches in my throat. 

I remember when I was little, and I stared at Damian’s damaged hand. But this? This is worse. 

Much worse.