Chapter 1: Beginnings
Twin brothers sat across from each other, both staring intently at the chessboard set in front of them. Neither had made a move yet but they had been sitting there for almost an hour now. This was a battle of the wits that both brothers wanted so dearly to win. At eight years old, you would have expected neither brother to even show the slightest interest in chess. This game of theirs that they were playing, it was just a game for fun, something to enjoy in their spare time.
The brothers, both with shaggy ebony hair and a pale complexion, had been in Whammy's since they were four, coming at a much younger age then most of the children. Whammy's House was an orphanage for the gifted children of the world. Most were hand-picked by Quillish Whammy himself. Even in a house of brilliant children, these brothers stood alone. Quillish had taken them from the remnants of their house himself. He found the brothers sitting in the family room, staring at the mangled bodies of their parents. Both had quite blank faces, one gripping a telephone in the hand not holding his brother's hand.
Upon arriving at Whammy's it was quite apparent that these boys had such intelligence that it rivaled Whammy's own. They were able to do math at 5 that most of the older students struggled with and were the masters of over twenty languages by the age of 7. Whammy had decided to let the boys lead their own schooling by now. They were brilliant and took great joy in challenging each other. Both amazing logic to solve any problem thrown at them. They would be amazing detectives with their amazing deductive abilities. Any but Whammy himself would believe that both boys would become detectives but, Whammy knew, one had taken a strong liking to setting up 'crimes' for his brother to solve. It seemed he would be the ultimate criminal to his brother's ultimate detective.
On the night in question, the night of this particular chess game, the twins, who were so used to having one wing of the building all to their selves, were getting a neighbor. They knew this and they were not happy. They preferred it to be just the two of them. It was so much easier than letting another soul into their world, the world they had created in the absence of their parents. They did not want an intruder, especially not another child. Whammy was forcing this upon them, thinking it would do them some good. Not only do them some good, but also allow this new child to be away from the prying eyes of the other children.
Quillish had found this new child in quite a similar state that he had found the twins in. She had been found, crouched over and hiding from the sights before her, in the very room that her parents had been brutally murdered. The parents had been murdered by a group, a criminal organization, which had sent seven men to kill them. Six of the seven were found dead in the room and the seventh was in the hospital. All six had a time of death after that of the parents. The girl had been found muttering "All the numbers are different. Always different." Whammy had taken her before the police or child services could arrive. No four-year-old child needed that on her record.
She was moved into her room under the cover of dark, when most of the children were sleeping. Whammy wanted her to remain a secret until she was ready to join the other children. She seemed so small and delicate at the moment, sedated as she was. Whammy could almost believe she was normal, that nothing terrible had just happened to her. But he knew it was not true and so would she, the second she awoke. Hopefully, keeping her in this area of the orphanage would keep her screams and tears away from the majority of the children. Only the twins would know and they spoke to nobody outside of the other. Closing her door and leaving the girl alone in her new room, Whammy decided to check in on the brothers next door.
"Lawliet, Beyond," he called as he opened the door. He saw the two staring intently at their chessboard. Whammy waited patiently to be acknowledged, knowing the twins could not be interrupted when fixated on something they found truly entertaining.
After fifteen minutes more, the brother known as Beyond flicked out his pale finger, knocking over the king. "Thwarted again, but not for always," he snickered, giving his brother a rather sinister look.
"I think that one of superior logic will always win and, unfortunately for you, my logic will always be better than yours," the one known as Lawliet replied, keeping as straight a face as possible.
"Whatever, dear brother. You cannot win all the time," again, that wicked little grin flashed across Beyond's face. "What is it you wanted, Quillish?" Both boys turned to face to older gentleman who had intruded upon their game.
"I just wanted to let you know that I have moved your neighbor in. She has recently been through a lot and it may take her some time to become accommodated with the change. I must warn you, she is quite young," Whammy spoke to the boys as though they were his equal. He had learned a long time ago what would happen if you attempted to talk down to those two.
"What is her name, Quillish?" Lawliet asked, turning an inquisitive face to the older man.
"Her name is Eleanor but I very much doubt that is what she'll want to be called," Whammy answered the boy. "You should ask her, yourself, what she would prefer to be called."
"If we must," Beyond's bored, annoyed toned of voice seemed to answer for both of the boys. "And when is it we will be forced to meet this girl?"
"Tomorrow I suppose. Well, I'll let you be. It's getting late and I should be getting to bed." With that, the older man left the twins alone in their room. After watching the older man leave, the brothers decided on a rematch and turned back to their board.
In the next room over, the young girl, Eleanor, began to stir in her new bed. She knows that waking up means remembering and for some reason, she doesn't want to remember, but her body doesn't want to sleep anymore. Sitting up in the bed and looking around, Eleanor knew she was not at home. She was not in her own bed and her Mother was not about to come give her a hug to comfort her. She was never going to see her mother again. Mother was dead, the men did it. But the men are gone now. All the memories came rushing back to her, cutting deeper and deeper with each new thought. It all came back, all of it, even what it was that she herself did.
Screaming in confusion, frustration, sadness, anger, and fear, Eleanor threw herself off the bed. She was terrified and all her pent up emotions came out in tears. It was too much for one four-year-old little girl to handle. She could not handle it. Too much, too much. All the numbers were different. They were dead, all of them. No one was going to hold her again. She was alone, so alone. Where was she? All the thoughts were flying through her head faster than she thought she could think them. In her frustration, young Eleanor began destroying her room, throwing things she should not be strong enough to move. She could not stand the thoughts and sights sitting in her memories.
From their room, the brothers heard the screaming and the thumping of large objects from the next room. It ruined their concentration and neither was very pleased with that. When they began to her the muffled tones of moaning similar to the sounds of one crying, both boys became concerned. As stoic and callous as the eight-year-olds might seem, they really did care about those around them. What if the new girl was hurt or scared? Would it really be alright of them to leave her alone? Of course not.
"B, I think we should go check on Eleanor," Lawliet said to his brother, looking up from the chessboard.
"I agree, L. It sounds like she's tearing the room apart," Beyond nodded to his brother as they stood and headed towards the door.
