The summary isn't that great, and I apologize, but I've never been good at summaries. I admit up front that this was not my best work. I wrote this just to satisfy an itch of an idea. Happy reading.


1984

Melissa looked at her reflection critically. She was going to her first party, and she wanted to look nice. The dress was red with spaghetti straps. It had a ruched bodice and a dropped waist. The skirt was very full with attached black net crinoline. She'd paired the dress with low, black heels. Her hairs was teased and her make up painstakingly done. She fiddled with heart charm on her necklace, the only thing her mother had given her before the lady passed away.

There was a knock at the door. Her twin Charles yelled, "You ready to go, Lippa?"

She frowned, yanked at the skirt, and sighed. "Coming, Charlie."

Charlie's dark hair was spiked. He was wearing a black shirt, a leather jacket and ripped jeans. Sneakers completed the outfit.

"I thought you knew this was a costume party," he said.

"I wanted to look pretty," she said. "What the hell are you supposed to be?"

"Sid Vicious!" he said, throwing up his hands. He said it as though it should have been obvious. It was, now that she thought about it.

The twins walked down the stairs and to the door. Their foster parents were watching television, unaware of the departure.

Charlie abandoned Melissa once they got to the party, climbing up onto the roof with his friends. Melissa was pulled into the house, drinks eagerly being handed to her by her friends. She thought the party was great. No wonder people were desperate to be here.

It could have been that it was in the early hours of morning, or the fact that she was very drunk, but she felt tired. She flopped on the couch in the corner, wanting a nice quiet place to rest. She felt the cushions move and someone lean over her.

"Haven't seen you before," the male voice said.

"I don't usually come to parties," she said, opening her eyes. Whoever he was, he was wearing a plain black mask that hid all but his eyes.

"That's a shame," another male voice hissed at her other side.

She whipped her head towards it and touched her temples as if to steady it. This man was wearing the white version of the first guy's mask.

"Lippa?"

She watched Charlie approach her. "Come on, let's go home."

"Maybe she doesn't want to go," the first guy said.

"Take me home, Charlie," she said, her voice taking on the tone of a sick child. "I need to get some sleep."

Charlie hoisted her up and helped her walk. A few blocks away from the party he helped her take off her shoes and had her carry them. She slipped, and Charlie pulled her up again.

"Hey!"

The twins turned together. The masked men from before were following them, stalking behind them.

Melissa's brain snapped into a panic and she started running, barefoot and all. Charlie took a few moments to throw her shoes at them before following his sister's example. They'd actually gained some ground before Melissa's body betrayed her.

She fell to the ground, retching pathetically. Charlie's her fierce twin, was pleading, pulling her. She started to cry.

The men caught up to them and Charlie shoved her towards the door of the closest house. One reached out for her, snatching her by the chain around her neck. She let it break, falling somewhere. She heard the scuffling behind her of the men attacking her brother.

"Please!" She cried, pounding on the door. "Help us! Call the police!"

"Nobody's home, you stupid bitch."

Something hit her, and it went black.

She woke some time later, her body being jerked around very aggressively. They weren't on the road anymore; they seemed to be in a back yard somewhere. The one with the black mask was the one moving her. He had bound her wrists together and was kneeling between her thighs. The one with the white mask had his forearm in Charlie's throat, holding him down. Charlie's wrists and ankles were tied together.

"Hey Mark," the one in white laughed.

"Yeah?" he answered with a bit of an edge to his voice.

"Did you see where we are?" White snickered.

"Yeah,bizarre," Black said. He pronounced it "bazaar." Now Melissa knew where she'd heard that voice before.

"Marcus Stone?" She whispered, looking into the eye holes. Those eyes were expressionless.

"Fuck," White said. "They know!"

"So I guess we don't have a choice," Marcus said. "We'll have to kill them."

Both of the twins started to buck, trying desperately to free themselves. Their efforts went fruitless.

"Hold his head," Marcus growled, putting one large, rough hand around her throat. His other hand pulled at the button of his pants. "We don't want him to miss any of this."

White giggled and pressed on Charlie's head, forcing his face towards his sister.

"Fight me and he dies," Marcus hissed.

"Don't listen to him, Lippa!" Charlie cried, again trying to get loose. "These guys are assholes."

Melissa watched as White put more weight on his head

"Do you promise?" Melissa asked quietly, choking back a sob. "To let him go after?"

"Yeah, yeah," Marcus muttered. "Whatever."

Melissa layed there, staring at her brother. They were going to let him go. Her strong, brother who'd seem the world as a rotting corpse, was going to get a second chance. This strong boy, who had always been her rock, was crying.

Her attacker bit her, releasing blood out onto her dress. He collapsed, breathing heavily. He laid on top of her, letting himself relax. Melissa felt a surge of panic, moments before his hands closed around her throat.

Charlie started to scream, and White copied his friend's actions with his own victim.

The woman of the house discovered the bodies when she arrived home with her children the next morning, devastated by what she'd found.


1990

Tate walked home from school, bag heavy with books. He'd asked a girl to go to a formal dance with him and she'd laughed at him. She called him a nerd and an ugly creep. He was humiliated, but he could always spend that night working on his homework.

"No wonder everybody hates you, Tate," he told himself. "What could anyone possibly like in this?"

"Then kill them."

Tate turned to his left. A boy that was older than him was walking along the sidewalk in his yard. He was wearing a leather jacket, and looked like a punk reject.

"What?" Tate asked, frightened.

"Listen kid," the boy said angrily. "The world sucks. Death is the only equalizer. So you have to ask yourself if it's worth letting those assholes live?"

Before Tate could answer, the boy was gone.


1993

Tate lived once again in his childhood home. He was sitting on the front step when he say something shine under a bush. It was mostly buried in the dirt, but after some digging produced a heart necklace.

"That's mine," a girl said. She was wearing a red party dress.

"How do you know?" he asked.

The girl looked sad. "My mother gave it to me. I lost it before-"

"Before you died?" Tate finished.

She looked embarrassed. "Yeah, it got ripped off my neck."

He handed her the chain and she quickly put it on.

"You were the girl who was choked in my back yard."

"Yes, my twin and I."

"Sid?"

She looked at him strangely.

"The boy in leather," Tate answered. "We've been talking a lot for a long time. He says his name is Sid."

"Right," the girl said. "I'm Lippa. So that makes you Tate Langdon."

"Correct."


1994

Tate sat on the edge of his bed, utterly still.

"I did it, Sid," he yelled. "I finally did it."

Charlie appeared. His eyes were full of a dark glee. "How did it feel?"

"Liberating," Tate answered. "You were right. I've never felt like this."

Charlie was pleased.

"Lippa," Tate said softly to the empty room. "Big sister, I need you."

Melissa appeared, looking out of breath. Tate smirked; the idea was too funny when you considered that she was dead and had no use for air. "What's wrong?"

"Will you guys stay with me?" he asked. He held out his hand. "Just hold my hand until they get here."

The sound of many car doors slamming shut was heard.

"Please, Lippa," he whispered. "There isn't much time."

She took his hand. She heard Constance yelling frantically and the running of many feet. The sounds chilled her to the bone.

"Oh, Little Langdon, what have you done?"