Fireflies
A few weeks had passed since his older brother had been enrolled in the asylum. Allan had been devastated. He realized what Oliver had done was very bad and he most likely deserved to be in that horrid place, but that thought was surpassed by one of rage. What had pushed Oliver to do this? What made him go so corrupt as to murder someone? Allan didn't know the answers to these questions, but he was determined to find out. Little did he know that at this very moment, he was just as messed up as his older brother. He just pushed the feeling aside and thought it was because what had happened so recently. That was the case anyway, until recently….
Allan stood as his twin brother Matthieu walked into the home they shared. "What are you doing home so early? Shouldn't you be at work?" Matthieu had been worrying Allan lately. He had started coming home early about a month ago, and it had been happening ever since. "Matthieu," Allan grabbed his twin's shoulder and bore into what were supposed to be his eyes, but instead he saw his own reflection in the large sunglasses that covered his eyes. "Did you lose your job?" They stood in silence for a moment, then Matthieu brought his sunglasses down onto the ridge of his nose so Allan could see his eyes . "Why the hell would I be gone for most of the day, but not work? I wouldn't lose my job because unlike you, I got up off my ass and got a job so we could still live here and eat. Plus, that expensive vegetarian shit you eat would take up any money we would bring in on the side. So no, I did not lose my job, but maybe you've lost your fucking mind…" He stalked off in the direction of his room murmuring about how 'our family has too many fucking psychopaths ', leaving his brother alone in the living room. 'The one time I try to be serious with him he blows up at me,' Allan thought pitifully. A wave of rage passed over him and he screamed through clenched teeth and pursed lips. "Fuck you Matt!" He took off towards the door, but not without grabbing his bat first….
Allan tried to cool off from the fight, he really did. He went to the batting cages but accidentally hit the ball so hard it broke off the tip and now all that was left of the smooth, rounded top was a jagged mess. Still, he was fuming. As he walked down the street, he heard some teenagers fighting. He walked down the alley where the commotion was coming from. The first thing he noticed was the girls. They were everywhere, circling the yelling teens he heard everywhere. Every body type, every hair color. Each one had on a skirt that was so short it had to be illegal. He smirked slightly and noticed one girl in the corner with a smirk to match his own. She wore a skirt similar to the rest but instead of the tight tank tops the rest had on, she was in a crop top. Allan realized what this was immediately. 'They're all whores and the boys are fighting to see who gets the prize, the girl in the corner…' He scooted around the girls but not without slapping a few on the ass. They hardly noticed because they were so into the fight. As Allan approached the girl in the corner, she noticed him and her eyes dimmed. He ran a finger up her arm and laughed. "Hey angel, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" Before she could say anything, his lips were pressed against hers and he slipped his tongue in as soon as she parted her lips. Just as his one of his hands snaked its way up her shirt, he felt something tug hard at the back of his jacket. He turned slowly and was facing the two boys that were fighting earlier. "What the hell do you think you're doing old man? She's 17, and what are you, like 25?" The smaller one snickered at his own comment. With the hand that wasn't grabbing the waistline of the girl's panties, he took his bat and smashed it into the young man's face. As the young girl writhed in pleasure next to him, he glared at the younger boys. The hand down her pants shot out and knocked the other in the face. "You started it by calling me old..," he whispered then kicked them both to the floor. He beat them with the bat until he couldn't feel their pulse under his boots that had been resting on either's neck. He dropped the bat and turned around. "Where were we?" By then all the other prostitutes had left. She quivered in fear, looking from his face to the 2 boys he just killed. She ran and screamed, leaving the alley. "I wasn't fucking done yet," he shook his head and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back. He bit her lip enough to draw blood and pushed her to the floor….
Today was the day of his trial, and he sat in handcuffs on the leathery courthouse seat with a smug grin on his face. By the end of the day, he had been charged with 2 separate murders and attempted rape. Not to mention he was named clinically insane. He chuckled darkly to himself. 'Maybe I'll be put into the same asylum Ollie,' he hoped quietly that luck was on his side. It was declared that he would in fact be deported to the International Asylum. He silently praised himself for accomplishing such a big act of insanity. As he was loaded onto the small plane the next day, he hoped he would see his brother soon…
