Title: Gemini Twins: The Living Portrait
Fandom: Real Person Fiction, 我是歌手 | I Am a Singer (China TV) RPF
Characters: Dimash Kudaibergen (Qudaibergen), Hyde Kudaibergen (Qudaibergen) (OMC)
Tags: Portraits, Family Secrets, Horror, Gemini Twins
Description: Dimash purchases a house rumored to be haunted by a demon, and when Hyde goes to check it out, he disappears. Now it's up to Dimash to find out what really happened.
Gemini Twins: The common name for Dimash and Hyde Qudaibergen. The concept behind Hyde's character came about because of the song "Mademoiselle Hyde" by Dimash. Check out the official performances of "Mademoiselle Hyde" on Dimash's Official YouTube Channel.
THIS STORY COMES WITH COVER ART. I cross-posted this story. To see the image, please go to my AO3 (Archive of Our Own) account (under the same username, RainbowSheltie).
BETA: Annabelle
Dimash and Hyde were 21-year-old twin brothers who had just participated in a vocal competition as a duo, the Gemini Twins, and won second place. They were working on recording their first album.
Dimash was talking to his mother on the phone when he heard the front door open.
"I'm off to the studio," Hyde shouted as he left the house. "I'll be back late."
Dimash waved his brother off, then returned his attention to the phone.
His mother was saying, "Thank you for accepting the trunk, Dimash. I'm relieved your uncle delivered it in one piece. You know he's not exactly the most… well, I'm glad it reached you safely. Your grandfather wanted you to have it, but wouldn't tell us when, until now. I think it's supposed to be a gift because you did so well in the singing contest."
"I stored it in the basement," Dimash replied. "It's safe, but it's also locked. Is it supposed to come with a key? Uncle said he didn't receive one when he left grandpa's place."
There was an extended pause, and Dimash was about to speak up when she continued.
"It will turn up when it's ready," she replied cryptically.
Before Dimash could inquire further, his mother told him she had to go, and hung up. Dimash put his phone away and walked towards the basement door. He really wanted to know what was inside the trunk, but for now, it would have to wait. Hopefully the key would turn up soon.
A week passed by and between recording music at the studio and public appearances and interviews, he had forgotten about the trunk.
Hyde had left for the studio early that morning, and Dimash woke up just as early. He decided it was the perfect time to go grocery shopping. He had been putting it off for days, and they were running out of food.
Dimash had just finished the shopping list when he heard strange murmuring sounds coming from the basement door. He froze. Dimash was home alone.
He could call his brother back, or the police, but what if it were just his imagination? How would he explain that he was hearing voices if someone came and found nothing? In truth, there could be a real explanation for it, as the basement was older than the house. When he bought it, the relator explained that the original house had been demolished and rebuilt on top of the existing basement.
Okay, a trip into the basement was required. As the whispering grew louder, Dimash took a few, deep breaths, grabbed the handle, and swung the door wide open. Before him was a small foyer leading to the old, wooden stairs that reached down to the basement floor. Dimash flicked on the light switch.
The murmuring stopped, and he was met with a rush of cool air and dead silence. Dimash stepped into the basement and walked down a few steps, listening for anything out of the ordinary, but only the usual eeriness came forth.
He shuddered and quickly walked back to the house and shut the door.
For now, the voices had stopped, and Dimash came to the conclusion that it was all in his head, because to think otherwise wasn't an option he wanted to explore.
A few days later, when Hyde had once more left early for the studio, Dimash heard the murmuring voices coming from the basement. And again, when he opened the door, the noises stopped.
From then on, every time he passed by the basement door, the noises called to him, and the whispering was growing louder. Determined to ignore it, he always went the long way around the house, refusing to pass by the door. But as the basement door was also directly across from the front door, Dimash always bolted out the front, slamming the door behind him. The soft voices were haunting him.
Dimash had been spending more and more time outside the house, coming in as late as possible. He never spoke about it to Hyde, but it only took a week of this strange behavior before Dimash was confronted.
"Something is wrong," Hyde remarked. "And it has something to do with the basement. Is something down there?"
"How did you…" Dimash started, but looking back, it was an obvious deduction. He continued on.
"I keep hearing noises coming from the basement, but every time I open the door, there's nothing there," Dimash confessed. "It's unnerving, but it's the truth. Do you believe me?"
Hyde didn't react. Most of the time, his brother's reaction was unreadable, even to their parents. No one knew what he was thinking.
"Wait here," Hyde told Dimash.
He left the room, and came back a moment later with an old, brass key. Although slightly dirty, it was otherwise in good condition. Hyde handed it to Dimash.
"Mother told you the key would be found when it was ready," Hyde added. "You know what to do. I'm going out. I'll come back when you need me."
Dimash watched Hyde grab his coat and head towards the front door.
"Where are you going?" Dimash asked. "This is for the trunk, isn't it? Don't you want to know what's in it?"
Hyde shook his head.
"I know it's secrets," he announced. "And soon, you will too. What you decide to do with it, is up to you."
Key in hand, Dimash headed towards the basement door. The murmuring was gone, but there was a strange force pulling him towards the stairs—it was the trunk.
He entered the basement, feeling the familiar rush of air, and started down the steps. Some creaked under his weight, adding to the unsettling atmosphere, but Dimash kept on. Across the room was the heavy, wood trunk, and just above was an enormous picture frame, covered by a large blanket. Dimash had been told to keep it safe and covered at all times, but he had never seen what lay beneath.
Dimash was five when he asked his mother why it was covered for the first time.
"Never uncover this painting. If you love your family, you will listen to me, and never ever look at the painting. For now is not the time."
Dimash was ten when he asked his mother why it was covered a second time.
"Now is not the time," she replied curtly.
Dimash was fifteen when he asked his brother why it was covered a third time.
"Mother will not tell me what is under the painting. Have you seen it?"
Hyde looked at him carefully.
"I know," Hyde replied. "And one day, you will too."
"But when will I know?" Dimash queried.
Hyde tilted his head and grinned; it was unnerving.
"In a few years, a note will call to you, and then it will be time."
Dimash huffed.
"But notes don't talk, do they?"
Hyde laughed.
"You tell me," Hyde answered, before walking away.
Dimash kneeled down before the trunk. As the key neared the lock, a voice whispered,
"It's almost time."
Dimash jumped and turned around, gripping the key tightly.
"Who's here?" Dimash called out. "Who are you?"
Silence.
"Hyde? Is that you?"
Dimash headed towards the basement door.
"Hello?" Dimash queried.
The basement door was closed. Dimash was alone.
He took a calming breath and headed towards the trunk, again kneeling before it, and he put the key into the lock. There were no voices, no noises to indicate someone was here.
"Okay, Dimash, you're just imagining things," Dimash told himself.
Dimash turned the key, and opened the lid. Inside were five, thick picture albums and stacks of loose photos. The photos were pictures of identical male twins, from baby pictures to the elderly. Each picture had a name and dates; some displayed the day, and others just the year. The earliest was dated 1850.
Everyone belonged to the "Qudaibergen" family; these were his ancestors. He set them down and opened the top photo album. It contained pictures of Dimash's grandfather and the man's twin. The photos included small-sized baby pictures and progressively older ones that appeared to be taken with a pre-digital camera. When he reached the last page, Dimash saw pictures of his grandfather at his brother's funeral three years ago. The last half of the album showed photos of his father. The most recent ones were from this year.
Dimash placed the album on the floor next to the trunk.
The bottom two albums were the same; Dimash assumed they were all pictures belonging to the paternal side of his family tree. Each album contained the same men as the ones in the loose photos, except these were in order.
When Dimash moved the three albums, the stacks of photos spilled over into the empty space, uncovering an old envelope. Next to it was a smaller album containing single-page photos. It was on top of two large photo albums similar to the ones he just looked at.
Dimash set the envelope aside for now, and opened the small album. Each page contained a photo of one of the twins, sitting alone in a chair in front of a giant portrait. Judging from its shape and size, Dimash thought the portrait may be the one on the wall above the trunk.
In the painting, there was a man sitting in a wooden chair in front of a set of bookcases, and an open window on the left. Standing behind the man, just off to the right, was a ghostly image of the man sitting in the chair.
All three men were identical.
"What is this?" Dimash murmured to himself.
He quickly flipped to the end, which was empty, but continued backwards until he reached a photo of his father, and another ghostly identical twin.
Dimash had been told identical twins run in the family, and that the firstborn male always had an identical twin. He didn't think much of it, as he was never shown any photos, and he hadn't realized it dated back so far. It's possible it went back even further, before the invention of the camera.
He closed the album and placed it on the stack of three albums beside him. He reached for the last album. This contained pictures of his family. As he was flipping through the album, something dawned on him—these pictures were photos of his family without him, or anyone on his paternal side.
In his house, every picture included the twins, be it himself and Hyde, or his father and grandfather and their identical twins. There were no singular portraits of his mother, father, or siblings. There were no photos of the kind you may keep in your wallet or on the nightstand, if you want to remember one person instead of the many.
These photos were marked with the event, names, and dates. One caught his eye: it was his mother and grandmother together, sitting together in front of a café. He knew from the date that this was when they went on a vacation they called "girl's weekend out."
In the background, just behind his mother, was Dimash's ghostly twin, Hyde. Dimash flipped through the rest of the pictures of the trip, and each one contained Hyde. It looked like one of those supernatural photos that ghost investors claim are real pictures of the dead.
The entire album contained various photos of his family and every single one contained Hyde.
Dimash shut the album and dropped it onto the floor on his left and reached for the second one. These were dated before he was born. The photos without his father contained a matching ghostly twin. The next photos were of Dimash's grandfather, then his father. That's where the family photos stopped.
The oldest photos were definitely originals. Back then, they didn't have the ability to copy, photoshop, and print multiple copies in order to include a 'ghost' in the background.
He set the photo album on top of the one on his left, and dug around the loose photos until he found the letter. Dimash opened it and it read:
Dear son,
As you many have realized, the firstborn males in our family are identical twins. Have you ever wondered why?
Forget what you have been told, for truth is fragile, and not every father and son along our paternal line were shown the letter you are reading now. Some lived in ignorance. If you are here, then you are entrusted to know a secret that dates back to the late 18th century. Sarsen Qudaibergen is a name you shall love or curse. He was the first; the man who would create an endless chain of souls divided, between good and evil.
Sarsen grew up as an only child, but was envious of those who were identical twins. He often thought about the activities and, in his mind, the sacred connection between twins, having been born from the same egg, the same womb.
Just like some children wish they had a brother or sister, he wanted something he could never have.
As an adult, he found a man who could bring paintings to life, but at the cost of Sarsen's soul. The man tried warning Sarsen of the consequences—that he couldn't control the painting once it was completed. But Sarsen, overtaken by his obsession, ignored the man's warnings.
When the painting was completed, Sarsen was told that in two days he would meet his twin, and was reminded that his twin only existed because of the painting. He could not let it be harmed. Sarsen reassured the painter he would keep it safe.
In two days, Sarsen indeed woke up to find his twin standing at the end of his bed. Vowing to keep this a secret from his parents, and to hide his twin's true identity, he moved to a foreign country, and cut himself off from his parents and friends. They were the only ones who would suspect something was off about his twin.
The relationship he had with his brother was everything Sarsen dreamed it would be. In two years, Sarsen married a woman he met at work, and their firstborn children were identical male twins. Curiously, he looked again at the portrait of him and his twin, and found the men had changed into his two sons. That's when he decided to cover the painting and store it away.
Many years passed and eventually Sarsen's parents found out about his twin and learned that Sarsen's twin was part of a living portrait. They confronted Sarsen, and an argument ensued; they told him this wasn't right, saying his twin wasn't a real person, and threatened to destroy the painting when they found it.
But Sarsen's twin was listening and, with his life endangered, killed Sarsen's parents before his eyes. Afraid anyone would find out what happened here, and unwilling to betray his brother, he told his wife and sons that his parents had left town. On the next day, Sarsen left town with his family, his twin, and the portrait.
No one knows what happened then. The stories have been lost to time, only the beginning remains.
Now is the time to unveil the portrait. Many twins have killed to protect themselves, and exhibit the darker influences of human nature, yet the painting remains whole. If you wish to kill your twin, take a knife and stab them in the painting. That will kill all living twins at once.
Just do what your heart and your soul ask of you.
When you're done, put the letter back in the envelope and return it to the trunk. It is up to you to fill the albums with pictures of your family, and to tell your firstborn children and their children this story.
Now is the time to unveil the portrait.
The letter wasn't signed, but was definitely old. He read it twice more before putting it back in the envelope. The letter didn't say specifically how to sort the pictures or what kinds to add, but it was obvious by looking.
Dimash took the loose photos out, neatly replaced the albums, and put the photos on top. He closed and locked the trunk, tucked the key in his pocket, and stood up before the painting. If the letter was right, he would be the one inside the painting.
He counted to three before reaching up, then he pulled off the cover. Dimash was looking at himself and Hyde; he sat on the same chair and in front of the familiar bookcases and open window. Hyde's ghostly figure was chilling. There was a haunting, sinister expression on his face.
The door to the basement opened.
"My true face," Hyde noted, as he walked down the stairs. "Am I evil?"
Dimash reached up towards the painting, and stopped his fingers just before touching Hyde's chest. The painting scared Dimash, but that wasn't the question.
Hyde came and stood by Dimash. He placed his left hand on Dimash's shoulder and reached up with his other to grasp Dimash's hand in his own.
"Have you ever been afraid?" Hyde asked.
Dimash shook his head.
"No," he replied. "Not of you. But I'm afraid of what you are."
Hyde released Dimash.
"I read the letter. I don't want to be that person," Hyde admitted. "Why do I look like a monster? Why am I unable to carry your emotions? You're expressions?"
He clenched his fist and turned away.
"Why am I the only twin who looks so threatening? Tell me why!" Hyde demanded, to no one in particular. "Just… why?"
The letter said to trust his heart, and Dimash wasn't sure if Hyde was part of his soul, but Hyde wasn't the person in the picture. In truth, Hyde did have a darker nature than Dimash. But that fact didn't have anything to do with good and evil.
Dimash picked up the cover and threw it back over the portrait.
"People aren't paintings," Dimash pointed out, placing a hand over Hyde's fist.
"I don't care what the letter says, or why you appear as a ghost in those photos," he continued. "You are real. Our Dears believe we are, and I believe you are."
Hyde relaxed his hand and squeezed Dimash's gently, before letting go.
"Wait!" Dimash grabbed hold of Hyde's arm. "I promise that I will not harm our portrait. We're in this together, and that will never change."
Hyde tried shrugging off Dimash's hand, but Dimash held firm.
"I will never let you go," he maintained. "If you run, I'll be right behind you and whether you're good or evil, I'll be at your side."
Hyde stared at Dimash carefully, but as Dimash refused to back down, Hyde eventually gave in. Dimash stepped back, breathing a sigh of relief.
"I just want to get away from that painting," Hyde admitted.
"Then it's time to go," Dimash announced, seizing Hyde's hand within his.
"Yeah, it is," Hyde answered. He held Dimash's hand tightly and they left the basement together.