24 July 2012
Part One: Eat Your Filthy Heart Out
"Why would you come back here, Ezekiel?" she screams.
"To see you, of course." the young man replies. He lounges in an old worn couch with red velvet upholstery. One leg is draped lazily over the back of the couch, and the other rests on the arm rest.
"To see me?" she spits, disgusted with the boy, "to see me? When have you ever wanted to see me?" she paces the room, occasionally stopping to yell at her brother. Her knotted, raven black waves swing wildly about as she moves. The few dread locks that mix in with her hair hardly move though.
"Now," he replies calmly, watching his sister move.
"Where have you been the past six months?" she stops her pacing, and glares at the man. There's a tinge of desperation to her eyes.
"Away," he states, leaning his head on the couch.
"Away where?"
"Places."
"Places like what, Ezekiel?" she sits on the edge of her couch, folding her hands in her lap. Freckles mark her face from her cheek bones along to the bridge of her nose.
"Zazel, I got into some trouble," he tells his sister, leaning up on his elbows.
"Trouble like what?" she asks, drawing her hair over her shoulder.
"Bad trouble. People dead trouble."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"What do you expect from me?" Zazel asks, more than appalled.
"A place to stay? Food to eat? Water to drink? Money to spend?" Ezekiel sits up, pulling his leg down from the back of the couch.
"Money. There you go again! You always want more!" she shouts, standing once more. Her skirt sways back and forth with each step, and the pattern makes her look like she's engulfed in flames, "I'll tell you what. You can eat your filthy heart out. You're not welcome here."
Ezekiel stands and brushes imaginary dust and crumbs from his finely pressed suit, "Okay, Zazel, I'll leave."
Zazel locks her arms across her chest and leans against the small creaky table. She watches him as he walks towards the door. He pauses before exiting, taking a long gaze at his twin sister.
Ezekiel ducks into the night, watching for anyone out in the dark harbor. Only a drunken sailor remains outside with him.
"Well, well, well. Look what we have here, Ezekiel Mullingar." a deep, thick and smooth voice says. A figure approaches the boy out of the dark of the boat house.
He steps into the light of the torches lining the streets, and Ezekiel can make out a tall, bald man with scratch marks running down his face. The man stands about seven feet tall, nearly a foot over Ezekiel and the man's arms bulge out with huge muscles.
"Who're you?" Ezekiel questions, taking a step out of the tall man's shadow.
The tall man grins, making the scars wrinkle, "A man that wants you dead." and her takes a swing.
The Devil's Twins • Opuss № I