Oneshot for myself halleluiah, but I do know what I am going to do for my next request. I feel guilty since this is the only HTF story I've been updating, but this fandom has been filling up with crap stories lately…
"You wouldn't do this to your own brother? Would you? S-Shifty?" Lifty asked, holding his palms up and wiping the dribble of blood escaping his mouth. His reflection sighed, watching the twin ruefully, his lips firmed into a woeful scowl.
"You're a pain in my ass," Shifty monotonously responded, more of a deadpan really, "so I'm not sure. And you're off every night frolicking with your little girlfriend. I have no use for someone who's worthless." He cocked the pistol, thumb teasingly rubbing its trigger. Betrayal flashed through his younger's aghast appearance, his breath hitching in gulping swallows. Sweat mingled with blood from various cuts, dripping leisurely down sleek, shiny skin. Even tears sprung into reddened emerald eyes, what an endearing sight. He would hold this memory with him, as to not forget his dear, sweet brother.
From the day he was born, and even before then, he shared every living breath with his sibling. From their mother's womb, to the foster homes (which never were permanent), and finally in the apartment they shared. Two of a kind. Reflections of the same mirror. Brothers to the end of eternity. Living with the prescene of another just as threatening person was not nerve-wracking; they would rather die than harm their twin. So life passed uneventfully, just a pair of brothers whose lives revolved around thieving. Waking up and walking through daily life was just an average day, but when the lights went down..out came the beasts.
Girl after girl, slut after whore, was invited in formally then strutted out formally. There wasn't a thing as lingering over a particular girl, wasn't a thing as lavishing her in love. Love was a spiteful emotion, and they did not have time for this affection. Love had no place in their cynical, dark world. Women were simply necessary to feed their carnal urges, so they could release a pent up animalistic lust.
So when she imposed herself onto Lifty, well that wouldn't do. Such a pretty face was too captivating to resist. And Lifty fell under her charm. He became infatuated with the petite redhead. At first he desired nothing but her lithe body under his, delicious moans and saliva mixing, but that did not last long. He began yearning for her entire being. Her doe-like eyes, her luscious smile, her kind persona..There was a time where he came to say he was in love with her, but that could not be. Sickening, it was sickening how deeply enraptured he was.
Shifty could not comprehend how his younger sibling could be certain of what he felt. He could not wrap his brain around what love really was, having never felt it before. It brought his brother happiness, however, and he would not willingly admit he was envious. Just the slightest bit. He did not understand this feeling any more than "love", not when it came to a living, breathing person instead of an inanimate object. Neither had ever been hit with this strong of an attachment, yet the second born got to experience it first. And that was what he couldn't understand, the cause of his envy.
"This isn't fair though!" Lifty ardently persisted, his voice heightening gradually. At this exclamation, his twin inclined his head, visage collected into one of indifferent curiosty. His brother was one of many words, most being blasphemies, but at the moment he was aloof, almost preoccupied. Honed eyes were cold, sharp, baleful. A vague flash in Shifty's glare foreboded an upcoming..mishap. Lifty could only predict what was on his kin's mind. "What have I done to you?!"
Shifty was far from impressed by the thief's outburst. "Oh where can I begin? The list goes on, and on, and on. Forever, you could say. It's so long that I can't see its endpoint," he sneered, stretching his fingers to avoid having the blood dry and stick. A clumpy, sticky mess was unhygienic. Besides, tonight he had a special visit to pay someone.."How can I pick just one reason when there's so many? You're asking for the impossible," he ended with a touch of sarcasm to his words, stepping closer—over the crimson puddle, striking against the beige carpet.
He steadily raised the pistol, its barrel pressed firmly to Lifty's temple. "I'm sorry it has to end this way, but if I hadn't done it, what would have resulted from this..this relationship?" He would be sidelined, discarded, like a good-for-nothing useless toy. No, more sentimental than a stupid toy. Lifty was casting off his single most essential family member—the brother who lovingly tended and took his responsibility for—in hopes of gaining freedom to love anyone. To meet with her and buy her a ring and forget any memory of who his brother was. Was this girl more valuable than any house they could rob? Were his feelings even stable?
The situation embittered his smirk. Is this the right thing..And without a second thought, he pulled the trigger.
An instant splash drenched the wall, dousing his arms and staining his skin.
Lifty's body fell forward with a cushioned thump. Dead. He was dead. But..no, he couldn't be. The blood that splattered the peeling wall, and his dress shirt, was paint. Ruby paint the same texture as..blood. They were going to paint the living room today, to commemorate two years of thieving without jail time. It was a momentous occasion, and Lifty decided to make it special. He was patching the hole between them with this activity. It wasn't..he wasn't..
"..." Speechless, the pistol slipped through his fingers. His knees buckled, and he fell to the side of his deceased brother. With blood on his hands, his palms flashed in the adumbral lighting. A lonesome light wafting from the kitchen illuminated the scene. Shedding light on his twin's ghostly face, the bullet hole exuding droplets to run down his smooth cheeks, glimmering brilliantly harsh shades of red. Red. The colour he had last seen before his death. Red. The colour he had said was his favourite. Red. The colour which reminded him of his girlfriend.
Shifty tenderly traced his sibling's jawbone, afraid he would shatter and disintegrate at the heaviest touch. He sighed to regain his lost composure. Absently, he searched the living room. "It feels kind of empty," he said aloud. "Like I'm missing something, but I don't know what. Is this normal? To feel nothing but a numbness, an apathy towards this. Does the dullness come after a murder, or am I just crazy?" Crazy, no. Heartless, cruel, possessive..yes. "But then why should I feel guilty? Answer me that, Lifts."
He lifted his palm, scowling when he saw faint blood marks. The carpet was squishy underhand. Moist, squelching sounds reaching his sharp ears with every movement. "You're quiet the bleeder, aren't you? I'm starting to think the vacuum won't clean this; maybe I should call Petunia and have her dispose of your body." Laughing sullenly, the joke promptly dropped. "You were more entertaining when you were alive, but I can't be honest when I say I prefer you breathing over motionless."
Well, this was not going to work. With a body on his floor and the curtain drawn up, any tenant could stumble in. If word got out he had shot his brother..Shifty calculated the numbers in his head. Years upon years of jail time, years he didn't have to rot in a cell. There were possessions to swipe, people whose lives needed to be ruined, and a prison sentence would eliminate any chance of that. Besides, the men in jail were bound to be bigger, and coupled with their longing for any sexual touch..No, he needed to get rid of of the carcass. And fast.
Shifty gripped his younger's ankle and pulled. I hadn't imagined Lifty's body being so..heavy. Goddamn, he's a fucking fatass, even when he's dead. A grunt was bit back with grit teeth. His nails, what nails he had anways, clung to his younger's pants. Pulling, dragging, his steps back were quivery under the exertion. It was tedious work to drag him, how was he to get him to..he didn't have the slightest clue of where to dispose of the body.
Lifty had budged little more than an inch and Shifty was already panting, his arms taking a sore edge to them. "Shit, what the fuck do you eat? What the fuck do I feed you?" Not much, now that he thought of it. "How are you heavier than me? And why are you making it so damn difficult to drag you?!" Admittedly, he may have lost some sanity following the gunshot. He always had a proneness to mumble incoherent words, mostly after a failed heist, but trying to carry a conversation with the deceased..That wasn't healthy. He wasn't bothered, however. When Lifty's corpse was stowed away he would revert back to normality.
He hoped.
Lifty's sneakers scraped the pavement obnoxiously loud in the dead night.
Who knew towing a body could be so exhausting. If he knew this beforehand, he might have reconsidered this plan, might have..shot him closer to the dumpster.
His brother wasn't exactly what he'd call buoyant, or any sort of synonym for light. He was heavy. Period. And Shifty begrudgingly faulted the extra muscle he packed; without it, he wouldn't weigh as much as a sack of bricks, composed of cement blocks. His stupid weight was an unforeseen difficulty, one which he would have to endure. "Dammit, you fucking fat..piece of.." Grumbling, he trudged another step, taking the time to thank the lack of city funding. For without it, there would be streetlights illuminating his foul actions. Thank God for bankruptcy.
This could have all been prevented if his no good brother had heeded his warnings. He warned Lifty that meddling with a common girl was dangerous, stupid, seeing how they hardly ever stayed in one city too long. This pity relationship would result in heartbreak. He would end up as alone as when he started. Nothing would have changed, and this girl would be but a fond memory. He was always trying to give Lifty good advice, smart advice to benefit him, but with the minutes he delayed in exiting their mother at birth..he must have gotten a brain deficiency. Some mental problem that doctor's didn't detect, that caused him to ignore every piece of good advice his elder brother gave.
But his twin was always obedient, like a dog. He ordered something, and Lifty would carry through with it. Even his most brainless plans. He was a well-behaved, submissive boy—who didn't deserve what he got. He didn't deserve the bullet popped into his head. He was supposed to be alive, upright and walking, not being dragged face down on the grimy alley floor.
A sliver of guilt passed through the thief. By his hands his only brother was dead. He'd spitefully killed the last of his remaining family over some petty thoughts of betrayal, broken hearts, naive girls. He would never hear the jeering remarks, never see the face identical to his, never feel the joy of avoiding punishment by pinning the crime on his lookalike. "Huh," Shifty stopped in his tracks, momentarily seeing his lapse of better judgment. This was only temporary, however, as yet another thought arose. And this thought reverted him to his corrupted, disfigured mindset.
This wasn't his fault. Not at all. He wasn't to blame in any aspect, as he was utterly crimeless when it came to Lifty's change. But there was someone to blame..someone to heave every burden for his death on. The girl. She was solely responsible for his death, her and her alone. Not him, her. She tried to rob him of his partner in crime. This girl had inserted absurd fantasies in Lifty's head, planting a false hope for anything outside their lives as convicts. She was some she devil, come to lure Lifty into a fictional story where happy endings were possible. Where good overcame evil and there wasn't a thing as an excluded group, his group. She accepted him, and as an outcome, she broke him.
She tried so hard to change him—when he didn't want to be changed. What kind of twisted person would make someone create a new personality, just so they could harmonize better? He would brush her off as nothing but a bitch, but the term did not suit her.
In his opinion, bitches were were the prostitutes who, in attempts to stop degrading themselves, referred to themselves as 'escorts.' The scum of streets, trashy urchins, painted dolls that men had not been gentle to. The girls he brought into his room at night. But Lifty's sweetheart—the word made him gag—was a prim, proper darling. According to Lifty, when he was alive, she was the cutest thing. The affection dripping in his voice was repulsing.
"Flaky," Shifty mused genially, promptly scowling. That was how his brother would say her name. Disgusting. "You miss your lover's name? Huh, Lifty?" His twin was silent.
The garbage behind their apartments was in sight, a short fifteen feet away. Ignoring the squeaks of rats and the sense of uneasiness, the feeling of someone watching him, he trudged towards it. Looking at his brother, the dry blood caked on his forehead, lips parted and cracked, Shifty permitted a soft smile to form. "Well, this is it, I guess. You were always a good brother, even with your infuriating ways and stupid comments."
His laugh was listless.
"And I wish you could have known I only did this for your good. I wouldn't have, ah..silenced you without a motive." He flipped open the dumpster, cringing at the sudden onrush of putrid garbage. He peered inside; black plastic garbage bags, bottles people couldn't take the time to sort and recycle, and bugs. A rustling indicated another larger animal lurked inside, larger than a rat, but smaller than a dog. It could be the feral cat the cooky lady downstairs had taken a liking to.
Shifty bent down after wiping his grimy fingers, examining Lifty's countenance, the gentle light of the moon and nonexistent stars giving him a..peaceful look. Peaceful, that's what it was. The stress lines and tiredness he wore when alive were smoothed down. His sickly skin, pale and nearly translucent, aired calmness. Relief from the hardships of life, and the sedateness of the afterlife. He almost felt resent.
Brushing the younger's hair away, he lingered near the bullet wound. He should feel grief for the loss, an emptiness for the missing link, but he couldn't bring himself to. There was no feeling. There was only a numbness, and a kindled desire to exact revenge. He wanted vengeance for the wrongful death of his brother, and he wanted it on the one specific person: Flaky. She had to suffer, for Lifty's sake. She had to feel a bullet through her head, too. And he would ensure she felt the pain, every last agonizing stab, cut, tear—
A crashing of cans sounded in the alley's entrance.
Shifty snapped his head to the disruptive noise, instinctively hissing when he saw who had disturbed him. Speak of the devil.
The girl took a step back, trembling, her unnaturally large bright eyes staring at his twin's body. Her features contorted in a combination of terror, shock, pain, before she seemed to shut down. The colour drained from her cheeks as she traveled up the expanse of Shifty's chest, resting on his dangerously narrowed eyes and affable smile. A cover-up, there wasn't a doubt. She brought a fist above her breasts and fiddled with her sweater's collar.
Shifty idly stood and stepped over Lifty's body. "Hello little girl," his sickly sweet voice cooed, "what are you doing out so late? I would have thought somebody told you it's dangerous to walk outside at night. Especially if you're alone~ so why are you here?"
She shook like a leaf in the wind, face white as a bedsheet. Incoherent chokes left her as she raised a finger to point at the cadaver. "L-Lifty?" Tears threatened in her watery orbs; how he wished he could snap a photo of her priceless expression. It was heartbreaking, and he wanted to preserve it forever. "W-what did you do?" As he advanced a foot, she retracted the same, her question growing bolder, louder. "What did you do to him?!"
"Me?" A gravelly laugh reverberated from his throat. "What did I do to him? I think you should be asking yourself the same question, princess~ would you care to tell me what you did to him."
"I'm going to call the c-cops," she affirmed formally, the last quivering word betraying her. To emphasize her intentness, she shakily took out her phone and dialed the three simple numbers.
"H-hello? H-hi! Um I need you to come right away, it's urgent! I'm standing face-to-face with a killer—yes there's a body! My boyfriend's body! Please hurry, we're in the alley behind the complex on the corner of—Hey!"
A stealthy shadow against the caliginous alley, Shifty closed in on her. His hand closed around her phone, and with a careless flick he threw it over his shoulder, a shatter signifying she'd be purchasing a new one later. If she got the chance to. "You shouldn't be alerting the authorities of this, Flaky," his breathy take at her name hummed by her ear. An involuntary shudder wracked the redhead. "Things could get difficult if they were involved~ and do you want that?"
"Get a-away from me! You're a killer!" Flaky pressed her back against felt along the sordid wall, shuffling away from his voice. Unlike Shifty, she was not nocturnal, not that he really was or..maybe? She could hardly see her white hand on the filthy bricks, but she could feel the thief's breath cooling her neck. She needed to escape, escape from the emotionless face of her boyfriend. Somewhere behind her he lay on the cold ground, rodents scurrying around him, bugs crawling over his body; her foot kicked at a can as arms encased her.
Before she knew it, she was violently spun around and shoved into the wall. Steely emerald orbs glowed, imperturbable. Eye level with a malevolent smile, Flaky disregarded the pressure on her wrists. "Me? A killer? Tch. Lifty did tell me how he liked you for your audacity." Her stone carved face loosened. She lowered her gaze.
"You're not going to get away. I saw you d-dragging his body, and I'll make a testimony."
"You won't say anything~ there's no way in hell I'm going to jail, not now."
"What makes you so certain I won't tell?"
Shifty leant down, nuzzling her ear without affection. He couldn't show affection, not towards her, not towards his brother, not towards anything. He made that obvious when Lifty had brought her back home. His glare had sent chills through her, and he hadn't addressed her at all. Hadn't addressed her, until today, when Lifty was..dead. "I'm not certain, but if you do, I swear one thing on my brother's grave."
Flaky bit back a cry as he trailed up and down her neck, his abnormally sharp teeth clamping down tenderly on her earlobe and tugging.
"You think that because Lifty and I are twins, I'll love you too? That I'll spare you any pain? Keep dreaming, sweetheart. If you so foolishly turn me in, I'll gut you like a fish." The worst part was..she believed him one hundred percent.
*puts on sunglasses* dat quick ending. Oh well, that creates a mysterious, open-minded thing. This is a future story I've been playing around with. Its title as of now is Tainted Love (The song is…nice) and is a ShiftyxFlaky story. Though, I've taken to liking the title Sociopath!ShiftyxFlaky~ Let's see if I can update faster this time.
