Ride the Wings of Pestilence

The air in the room was chill, like ice against the skin of the teen placed on the floor. Hands trembling, the black haired young man pulls his knees tightly against his chest, letting the smallest of whimpers pass through his lips. His body rocks slightly, and he raises his eyes to stare at the ceiling, trying desperately not to catch site of the broken, bleeding body sprawled awkwardly on the floor in front of him; although the room was dark, and the body barely visible in the steadily dying light of the evening.

The teen wraps his arms around his long legs, squeezing his eyes shut, fingers entwining in his locks of ebony hair while muttering incoherently to himself. He grits his teeth and desperately tries to block his mind from reality.

Flicking several dirty blond dreads over his shoulder, Tom flings the door open and steps into the dark, quiet house. He shivers slightly, frowning at the coldness of the air. Everything feels too still and quiet for his liking, and Tom can't help but feel like something isn't right. His stomach twists itself into knots of anxiety as he kicks his shoes off by the door and proceeds to pad across the carpet of the living room.

"Bill?" He calls out, but frowns slightly when Bill doesn't run at him and embrace him like he usually does. Maybe Bill was sleeping, taking a bath or something. Tom knows he hasn't gone out; Bill hasn't left the house in years.

As he nears the kitchen, Tom catches an odd, almost metallic scent lingering in the icy air as he approaches the kitchen, and his stomach drops to his feet.

No, this couldn't be happening, not again; it had been so long, and he had thought Bill was doing so much better…

Tom shuts his eyes momentarily, rubbing a hand across his face. He inhales sharply and finally steps through the kitchen doorway, and the site that greets him makes the eighteen year old sick to his stomach. When his eyes skim across the twisted body on the floor, his twin brother crouched next to it, Tom has to force the bile rising in his throat down and feels as if his legs are about to give out. His eyes meet the identical brown ones looking up at him from the floor, and Tom sees that burning insanity in them that scares him so much.

"Bill… oh, God, no," Tom moans, his heart pounding wildly against his chest. He looks down at Bill, whose rocking back and forth, a splatter of crimson blood standing out vibrantly against his porcelain cheek, matching the pool of blood seeping from the body of the man on the off-white linoleum floor.

Bill hiccups, his eyes wild and swimming with tears. He reaches up again and pulls at his hair with blood stained hands, letting a small sob escape. "T-Tom, I… I don't know… I don't r-remember." These few words have been the most Bill has spoken in months, and Tom can't help but feel a bit surprised. He would have been happy for his little brother, if it had happened under different circumstances.

Tom crouches next to his brother and wraps his arms tightly around the trembling teen as Bill begins to cry almost silently. Bill reaches out and grasps Tom's white t-shirt tightly, leaving red handprints behind. Tom presses his face into his brother's hair and shuts his eyes, letting his own hot tears seep from under his eyelids.

"It's gonna be okay, Bill," he mutters softly. "We just have to get rid of it, like last time, it's gonna be okay…"

He rises, gently pulling the crying teen up along with him. Bill buries his face in the crook of Tom's neck, clutching him even tighter, if possible.

"C'mon, let's go hide the body," Tom whispers, softly trying to pry Bills arms from around him, but the other teen just clings tighter, shaking his head as he whimpers in protest.

"Please, Bill, the quicker it's done, th-the quicker we can forget, and… and pretend it never happened."

The black haired youth finally let's go, and Tom strides to the body, trying not to look as he grabs one of its legs and begins to drag it out to the back yard, his blood soaked socks leaving sticky scarlet footprints behind him.

With a grunt, Tom drives the shovel into the soft earth, and then pauses to wipe a hand across his sweaty forehead. When the rectangular hole in the ground is finally deep enough, Tom rolls the body into and begins to shovel the pile of dirt over top of it. Bill lies on the ground, curled into a tight ball and sobbing the entire time. Tom glances at him sadly; it had been such a long time since Bill had one of his 'episodes', but this time, he had gone off his medication, and all hell broke loose.

"It'll be okay," the dreadlocked teen tries to reassure his brother for what seems like the hundredth time that evening. "W-We're gonna hide this, put it all behind us and everything will be like normal again. No ones ever going to take you away from me, Bill, I promise."

When Tom finishes filling the hole, he takes a step back, breathing heavily, and wipes a smudge of dirt from his cheek with one hand. He's so afraid that this might happen again; Bill had done it twice before, and Tom was running out of places to hide the bodies. The first one had been quite creatively hidden in the basement; Tom had dug up the dirt underneath the floorboards and buried it there. The second had been buried on the side lawn, just on the edge of their property. Every single day Tom feared that someone would find them, but what scared Tom the most was how Bill found the people. As far as he knew, Bill never left the house, and surely someone would notice if he captured someone and dragged them, kicking and struggling, into the house from the street.

Tom cranes his neck, eyes staring into the seemingly endless black velvet of the sky as several cold raindrops drizzle against his cheeks. Bill mimics his big brother, wincing and drawing his knees into his chest again when the rain splatters against him. Tom stands over Bill, sympathetic eyes timidly watching his baby brother.

"Let's go inside," he murmurs, "before someone see's us."

Bill rises instantly and presses himself against Tom's side, linking one arm with his twins and clinging tightly to him in desperation. A low rumble of thunder sounds in the distance, and Tom feels the other teen's body tense, gritting his teeth when he feels Bills long nails biting into his arm. Tom kicks the back door open and leads the two of them inside, another piece of his heart chipping away when he hears Bill whimper pathetically, burying his face against his brother's shoulder. The dreadlocked man rubs his twin's back soothingly and pushes several strands of ebony hair from the other teens face. He leads Bill into the living room and gently seats him on the couch. Tom crouches down until he's eye-level with Bill and places a hand on each of his shoulders.

"Stay here, alright?" Tom commands in a whisper, but Bill violently shakes his head and tries to cling to Tom once again. "Bill, please just stay here. I'll be back in a minute; I'm going to go clean up th-the… mess in the kitchen." But Bill still silently stares at Tom, his wide, scared eyes pleading his older brother not to leave him alone. He took the younger teens hand in his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. When he rises and turns to leave, Tom feels something heavy attached to the back of his pant leg and looks over his shoulder to see Bill clinging to him, his fists balled tightly around the denim. Tom tries to take several steps forward, but Bill doesn't let go, and eventually his little brother slides off the couch and lands with a dull thud on the carpeted floor. Tom sighs, trying not to let himself get agitated by his twin's behavior. It wasn't his fault, anyways…

The dreadlocked teen leans down and hugs his arms around Bills torso, lifting him to his feet. The two of them enter the kitchen in silence.

Bill collapses to the cold linoleum floor, curling his legs underneath him as he leans against the wall, staring blankly into the thick black darkness. Tom almost stumbles over him as he reaches for the light switch. White light floods the small room, and he swallows thickly to stop himself from vomiting. The site of the congealed blood and the scent are almost too much to bear. Exhaling deeply, he bends down and pulls the cleaning supplies from the cupboard under the sink.

Tom emits a soft sigh, carefully watching the younger teen lie in the bathtub, up to his neck in water and fluffy white foam. As awkward and uncomfortable as it was, Tom can't trust Bill to clean himself up alone… especially after an episode like this.

"Ready to get out yet?" Tom asks, plopping down on the toilet seat. Bill turns his wide eyes upon his brother and sinks into the water until only his eyes are left, black hair fanning out on the surface, and slowly shakes his head. The dreadlocked teen buries his head in his hands and groans. He feels a soaking wet hand grasp his arm and looks up to meet Bills eyes once again. They sit like this for some time, and Tom's heart ache with sadness in his chest. No, Bill definitely doesn't deserve any of this…

"Let's go to bed, Bill," the older of the two manages to breathe out in a tiny voice. "It's been a… long day…"

Bill pulls himself mechanically out of the bathtub and steps over the edge of it. He instantly throws himself against Tom and holds onto him tightly, his wet skin soaking the front of Tom's clothes. Tom tenses uncomfortably at the weight of his younger brother's naked body pressing against him, but wraps his own arms around Bills small frame.

"God, Bill, I love you so much," Tom whispers. "I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you." Bill just whimpers in reply and presses his body closer against Tom, and the two of them are so close, it seems as if they're melting together.

When Tom finally pries a reluctant Bill away from him, he silently helps the younger teen dress. Tom leads his baby brother into the bedroom, Bill still hanging onto his arm and peering around the dark house with wide, vacant eyes. The dreadlocked teen flings the thick covers of the large queen-sized bed back, and with one last pleading look, Bill crawls onto the bed and curls up in a tiny ball, pressing himself into the mattress.

"Stay." The ebony haired teen nuzzles his head against the fluffy cotton pillow, turning his wide eyes upon his big brother. "Stay, p-please." Tom sighs, blinking away unwanted tears, and strips his dirt and blood stained clothes. He rummages through one of the dresser drawers and pulls out a pair of thin cotton pajama pants and t-shirt, and pulls them on. He flicks the light switch off, enveloping the room in pure darkness, and stumbles his way back to the bed, lying down next to his twin. Instantly, Bill curls up at Tom's side, and the older teen can feel his brother trembling violently against him. Tom drapes one arm over Bills shoulders and lets out a soft sigh. A sudden crash of thunder startles the two of them, and in the brief flash of lightening, Tom catches site of Bills terror stricken features and his heart practically breaks in two.

"Sleep, Billa," he whispers comfortingly and hugs Bill close to him, pressing his face against the other teen's soft black hair. "It's alright, I'm here. I swear I won't let anything happen to you, not now, not ever."

"Tomi," Bill squeaks, his voice so tiny it's almost incoherent. "Love…love you."

"I love you, too."

The two of them lay awake in the darkness, listening to the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops against the house. When Bill finally drifts off to sleep almost an hour later, Tom finally releases his tears and silently cries himself into a disturbed, restless slumber. The gruesome, frightening images his mind creates that night will haunt him for years to come.

I see you, sitting there, reading this and not reviewing. ;)

So yeah, I'd really appreciate your reviews, just don't be TOO harsh. But please don't comment on how twisted my mind must be to right something like this. I honestly have no idea where it came from. XD

I'm starting a chaptered sequel to this; I'll post it if it turns out the way I want it too.