The boy woke to the steady rocking of the merchant boat and saw above him the rusted roof of the cabin he and the girl had slept in for the night. He heard the distinct sound of seagulls and chopping water from the outside as he closed his eyes again and reopened them. There was a small haze in this moment where he forgot who he truly was, and that was the most highlight of most mornings for him. But when the realization hit, the day became like all others.
In the dream he had, the children led them through a dark cavern, each disappearing one after the other until it was he and her left at the end. They'd exited out, watching a sun that was so bright it threatened to burn the world.
After repeating this process for a few times, he slowly raised up in the stained mattress and removed the stinking rags he'd been using as blankets. Immediately, a chill hit his skinny legs. His shorts were getting too big for him, the same with his button-up shirt, the sleeve of which once nearly covered all of his hand but seemingly received to his wrist nowadays.
Rubbing his face, he glanced over at the girl. She lay on a similar disgusting piece of furnishing that somebody might've called a bed parallel to him. He held his arms over his legs and watched. Her long hair fell matted across the blankets, and he saw one of her hands fidgeting on the outside of them.
Standing, the boy walked on his toes to her and knelt. He moved the fabric over and made sure she settled without any cold getting in before standing again.
He looked about the room they were in. Small, two ratty chairs, one missing a cushion, a wooden floor with a carpet that seemed to have turned a color somewhere between green and black years ago, and a long table at the end next to a door that exited to the starboard. It all looked vintage yet expensive as a mansion.
The table contained everything they owned in two black travel bags, each with a blue capitalized H on his and a green G on hers. He went to his and zipped open the thing softly, minding the sleeping body behind him.
Two sets of clothes lay folded inside, along with a toothbrush and the little money they had been given. Slipping his hand under several shirts, he pulled the forty-five out and examined it closely. Silver and brown, he racked the chamber back and saw the back of the bullet sticking out. He let go and checked that the safety was on, then put it back inside the bag and pulled out two large slim jims and bottles of water.
"Fratele meu?" her small voice asked. He turned and saw her rubbing her eyes and removing the blankets. The color of the former was as black as a moonless night sky.
"I'm here, Sora mea."
She scratched her arm and yawned, "What're you doing?"
"Breakfast," he said, standing there with the bottles in one hand and the sticks in the other. He held them out as she got closer. The two were nearly identical: dark grey eyes, white hair, and pasty skin. The few differences were, of course, their gender and hairstyles. Sometimes, to her chagrin, he liked to brag that he was a few inches taller.
"This early?"
"It's almost eight."
"Whatever," she yawned and attempted to straighten out her dark nightshirt, "filthy..." she reached out and took the food from him.
"There's always the roaches in these walls," he said.
The girl responded with a plain "Ew." They ate. Popping the lids off the water and ripping the Jim's packaging. When they were done, she handed him the trash, "do you think we'll get there today?"
He thought about it, then answered, "I heard some seagulls."
"We must be close..." her voice trailed off as she looked away and back to him.
"Let's ask the captain, he'll know."
"We're at least close to land."
"Let's ask the captain."
"Alright. I'm gonna get dressed."
"I'll wait outside for you."
"Okay."
He walked to the rickety door, carrying trash from their breakfast in one arm, which he threw in a bin beside the door. As his hand went for the knob, she said, "Fratele meu?" the boy turned his head back at her. She was staring at him, her face halfway hidden behind her long, frazzled hair like a white shroud.
"Yes?"
"I don't..." a breath escaped her, "never mind."
The fresh smell of saltwater immediately filled his nose as his dress shoes clacked against the ship's metal pathing. The clear sky allowed the sunlight to glint off the blue ocean like glass. He leaned over the rail slightly and saw the blurs of fish jumping out of the water, leaving wakes.
He stayed there until the door opening behind him brought the boy back down, literally and figuratively. The girl's dress was long and black, like a Sunday school teacher. Seeing this, he asked her, "Aren't you burning in that?"
"If we're going to be landing soon, we need to be prepared," she shrugged as her hands clasped together, "the same goes for you. Go on and change."
"I will."
"They might be mad if you're not."
"I don't think they'd care."
"But they might."
He said nothing for a few seconds, then stepped past. Back inside, he went through the bag again shifting around. His hand was shaking. He struggled to stop it. Eventually he did and took out an old black duster coat. This too he'd been growing into, although the sleeves still came up to the middle of his hand.
Putting it on, the heat made itself even more apparent as he stepped back outside, the bottom of the coat edging along the floor. He stood in front of her and said, "Happy?" with a slightly cocked eyebrow.
She nodded, "I just didn't want them to be mad."
"I know."
"They were mad once remember?"
"It was a long time ago."
"But we've always worn everything since."
"True. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. We should go."
"Okay."
The captain's cabin smelled awful, no doubt a product of some foul rum. There wasn't much inside aside the usual equipment expected to steer a boat, the most notable thing being a small cabinet where substances galore were undoubtedly contained.
The man himself was small, hairy, and portly. He stood at the wheel, looking out to the sea as he steered them along. Neither knew his name. They'd been passed along from ship to ship captained by men of the same sort of caliber and no parties had bothered to speak so much as a word to each other, but that changed today.
When he saw them stepping in, each by the other's side, the cigar in his mouth drooped a little, "Whadya want?" he spoke in a thick Italian accent.
He was uninterested in a long conversation with the transporter, so the boy asked, "Are we arriving today?"
"Eh? yeah, in about an hour, or hour n' a half, give or take."
"Thank you," the girl said as the two moved to the exit.
"Now, hold on."
The twins stopped and turned back at him. He took the cigar out of his mouth, tapped the ashes off, and put it back in. "I'm usually not about asking questions, but I'm just wondering what makes you two so special."
"Special?" the boy repeated. Both of their faces were caked in slick sweat at this point. Neither were particularly used to warm weather.
"Yeah, your...eh...handlers or whatever were real damned insistent on me keeping you two a secret."
They didn't answer him.
"Well? how about a little insight."
But they kept staring. They looked so alike that it was close on uncanny for the captain. He took a step backward before continuing, "Fine then, be that way." He took the cigar out of his mouth and blew a few smoke rings out, clearly annoyed by them.
"We're not supposed to talk about it," the girl finally answered, the boy nodding with her.
He raised an eyebrow and tilted his cigar up, "What are ya, spy kids or sumthin?"
"No."
"Then what...ah..well, forget about it. Pardon my interest; I usually don't get kids who need traversing. Especially when the folk paying you two's fare are big fella's with big guns."
They continued to be silent, to the point where the captain went back to focusing on steering the ship along. In the far distance, at a hard right, rows of trees peaked out for what appeared to be miles. It was a jungle, the first they had ever seen.
"Mr?" The boy said.
The captain gave him a side glance, "Yeah?"
"When we get to shore, you should stay in here and leave as soon as we've gotten off."
"Eh?" the captain fully turned his head at him, "why?"
"Please, just do."
He took a long drag on his cigar, "I mean, Roanapur is a dangerous place, but I'm not gettin' shot as soon as I step onto the docks. I gotta fuel up, and...you should be more worried about yourselves. I mean, shouldn't you two be in school?"
The boy went to speak again, but he felt a slight tug on his coat sleeve before he could. The girl had done it; she looked at him with silent pleading and shook her head insistently. He said nothing after that.
The twins soon returned to their room to ready their things. They were silent. The boy's hands shook, and the girl fidgeted as she took a small wooden box from her bag. It was sleek and had a small handle where they could crank it for the music to come on. She examined the box for a while before placing it back inside and zipping the bag up.
They checked twice that everything they needed was inside before throwing the bags over their shoulders and exiting back onto the ship's port. There, they stood watching the jungles slowly start to turn into small villages and towns.
"We're close," she finally said.
He nodded, watching the water rushing from under the boat as they sped along. She'd begun to shake again. When he saw it, he stepped beside her and wrapped his arms around her form. "It'll be okay," he said.
"I-I'm scared..."
"I know, but we can't be scared or sad."
"Because they'll hurt us..."
"Yes."
"Like back home..."
"Yes."
They stayed like that for a long time, and as he watched the only creature he had left to care for wipe her eyes, the boy thought to himself, 'If she is not the word of God, then God never spoke.'
The boy watched over the girl's head as the trees fully dissipated, revealing a city that stretched as far as the eye could see. Closing upon the shoreline as if some greeting party in the middle of the water stood a giant Buddha statue of decaying rock; its eyes faded in disrepair.
The girl took her head from him and examined the statue, then the city itself, which she pointed a finger at, "Look at those." Two massive skyscrapers in the city's center dwarfed the Buddha statue like two giant kings observing their subject. A slight hue of smog seemed to coat the sky as they came closer, and an awful feeling came over each child.
"So this is Thailand," The girl studied the city, "I can't believe such a pretty place is home to all kinds of bad people."
"What are the words..." the Boy thought for a moment, "deep into that darkness, peering, long I stood there..." he shook his head, "I can't remember the rest, but I think Edgar Allen Poe said it."
The Girl looked at him strangely, "Wasn't he a necrophiliac?"
"I dunno."
"Ick."
"Stop looking at me like that."
She swayed her bag back and forth, "I've always wanted to go to a city, " she rubbed her chin, "like New York, or...maybe London."
"What about San Fransisco?" The Boy said as he put his foot up on the railing and watched the view of Roanapur edging ever so close.
He tapped his finger against the metal as she thought up something and answered with a bit of giddiness in her voice, "Oh, I read about it! the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz, oh-oh, and the ocean! it would be so cool to go and see!"
"Maybe, but we're in this city for now. Have you ever heard of it in those magazines of yours?"
That seemed to snap her back down to reality. Her face drooped a little, and she joined his side at the railing and resumed her swaying, "Only what Mr. Monteverdi said."
The memory immediately rang through the Boy's head. The threats of violence if they tried deviating from their new "master's," the rough stroking his and the girl's faces, and the cold chill that ran up the Boy's spine as he forced himself to smile and say, "thank you," to the Don.
All they truly knew was that it was a city filled with every manner of the gang, mafia, assassin, and bounty hunter; if you named them, some villainy was edged into the soul of the place.
The boat slowed and water waked below as the ship met the dock. They had connected onto a rickety old bridge made from at least worn five decades of wood and steel.
Waiting for a moment, they were soon joined by the captain, "I gotta do some stuff really quick, feel free to step off and stretch. You two must be cramped as a damned attic."
They took their steps carefully. Many like it stretched for miles with dozens of ships and boats. For a brief moment, the Girl wondered if they could take one of them and sail forever into the sea. She just as quickly threw the thought away.
A small beach filled with trash lay on the two sides of the bridge, leading to a busy road filled with cars and passersby on its sidewalk. The people looked rough. A mixture of black, white, and brown. They were all the same to the twins, don't talk and don't let them talk to you.
A long car had stopped in front of the dock, and as the twins stepped off, the Girl tugged the Boy's coat and nodded at it; he nodded at her. The Captain stepped behind them and said, "Hoo wee, I gotta refuel, then I'm hitting the bar. What about you two?"
"Our...rides here," the Boy answered shakily.
He gave them a thumbs-up, "Cool, see you kids around. Don't none of ya get into any trouble. Well, too much," he laughed and returned on board, waving them off, a canister in his hand. The twins turned their heads back and saw the car doors opening, the sun shining off them, only their faces darkened by shadow.
Two enormous men dressed in black tuxedo and wearing sunshades had stepped out of the two front doors. One went to the back and opened it while the other stood eyeing them, his hand in his coat pocket.
"Prepare yourself," the Boy whispered. The Girl nodded. She was quivering but stopped before he had to tell her to do so.
The door opened, and out came a large man with a fake tan, dyed blonde hair, and a cigarette that seemed to have been permanently built into his ugly round face. He eyed the twins, outstretched his free arm, put out a finger, and wagged them forward.
Taking a breath, the Boy walked forth. He and the girl bore smiles as they approached and took a small bow before the three, "Good day to you, sirs!" the Girl said as sweetly as she could produce.
The two talked simultaneously, saying, "How may the vampire twins, Hansel and Gretel, service you today?!"
The blonde man narrowed his brows at them. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and studied the two of them, "Jesus, they said you's was kids but...goddamn. You two killed all them wise guys for the family? heard it was a downright massacre. Still, ya don't look like much."
"Don't judge a book by its cover, good sir!" the Girl looked up at him, her eyes glimmering.
"Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on ya little bitch," he murmured. The Boy's grip tightened momentarily, but the girl tugged him forward.
The man took a drag and said, "I'm Verrocchio, and right now there's one thing you needs to know about me. I own both yer asses courtesy of the fine fellahs back in the old country, capesh?"
"Of course, Mr. Verrocchio!" the Boy said as he popped up from his bow.
"Eh..." he looked strange for a second, then shrugged as he took a drag on his cigar, "whatever..." Verrocchio turned to one of his bodyguards, a portly man who looked to be around his mid-twenties, "Bikey, get 'em inside the car." Then he looked to another one, thin and wiry, "Moretti, take care of that jackoff on the boat." He thumbed at the captain, singing loudly in his mother language as he ran a hose about and cleaned his ship.
"Yes sir," Moretti said.
"Come on you two," Bikey pointed to the backdoor. The twins turned back only once as Moretti strolled to the ship, his hand in his pocket. When they were inside the leather-chaired and cool-aired limousine, they heard two gunshots, then nothing. Keeping their smiles at that moment was a struggle.
After a few moments of waiting, Moretti and Verrocchio entered the limo, the latter flicking the ashes from his cigar off into a tray on a small table separating the three men and two children and their things. Moretti smacked the inside window of the limo and they started moving.
Verrocchio studied them while his men looked ready for any move to be made. The twins kept their smiles. "Y'know, it's rude to stare at folk, makes ya look weird."
"We've learned to pay attention to those who require our services sir," Hansel said.
"Sure, what'd you two call yerselfs anyway? Hansel and Gretel?" he chuckled, "we got some kids straight out of a goddamned fairy tale right in our hands boys."
The two men laughed, obviously forced. "That's right!" Gretel said. The two kept staring.
"Jaysus, alright, this is buggin me. Why don't you two look out the windows and see the damn city? yer creepin me out with this whole "Shining," routine.
The twins did as they were asked. As the limo rode on the city was revealed to them in the form of dirty streets, condemned buildings, and muggings right in the middle of the road. They saw a woman in loose clothing blowing a kiss at several passing men, and they saw sidewalks littered with trash, and they saw rats among the trash living like kings. Verrocchio gave them a few moments, then asked, "So, whaddya think kiddos?"
"Of the city?"
"Shitty ain't it?"
"It's...not in the greatest shape..." Hansel said as he saw malnourished folk lying on the walkways, obvious products of their addiction.
"Course it is."
"Huh?"
"Cause it's my fuckin territory!" he slammed his cigar into the ashtray, the middle snapping off like a stick.
"Is that a bad thing?" Gretel asked.
He narrowed his eyebrows, "Whaddya think?"
"Bad?..."
"Right on the fuckin dot!" he lurched back to his seat, "see there are two parts of the city, the south city with all the shitty bitty ghettos and slums with enough street trash to fill Mount goddamned Everest. Then there's the north and alla that is the big, big, city. Mansions, fancy restaurants, clean streets, and skyscrapers high enough for the clouds. In other words, big money. Let me tell ya, I don't even have all of the south to myself, just half. You followin?"
They nodded.
"Good, now then, before I moves on about who's gonna whack who, I want somethin from yous."
They nodded. He snapped his fingers, and the two men leaned in close towards the children, Hansel could smell the stink of alcohol on Bikey's breath as Verrocchio blew a puff of smoke out. "Let me tell ya right here and right now, you two ain't jack chicken shit over here. Sure, you may've done well back in Sicily, but in this city yous as dime a dozens as they come. Don't fuck around and listen to what I say, understand?"
They nodded.
"Say yes sir."
"Yes sir..."
"Nah, hows about...yes sir Mr. Verrocchio."
"Yes sir, Mr. Verrocchio," they both repeated.
"Good, and just one more tiny thing," he pointed a finger at them, his eyes locked on both somehow, "if you even think about betrayin me, God himself won't stop what I do to ya. Don't think I know your previous job experience," he smirked, "aw, don't be so surprised, I like to know everything there is to know about my employees."
"...Yes sir, Mr. Verrocchio."
The car was silent for a moment, besides the sound of the engine and the wind from a cracked window. The twins sat straight up, their smiles gone. Verrocchio seemed to notice, but he went on, "Movin on, there are three big players within the walls of this hedonistic city of devils. There's us, the Columbians, the Triads, and...the biggest and baddest of em all, the Russians." He seemed to have a hard time admitting the latter part of his speech.
"How are they the strongest?" Gretel said, her fingers digging into the leather seats.
He eyed her, "Well, little miss, there was a big ole war a couple years back. Essentially it was the Triads, the old biggest power and the Russians. But there was more to it like any war, shit was like WW two. Lotta players involved, includin yours truly. We hitched with the Chinese, only the problem is, the war was fought to a draw. And we lost all our precious turf in the city."
"They left you with the scraps, essentially?" Hansel asked.
"Correct, all that money taken away because the sonova bitch in charge of the Triads didn't have the stones to get the job done."
"So you want him...gone?"
"Yeah...an asshole by the name of Chang. But not just him, that Ruskie bitch too."
"Who?"
"Some cunt leading cunts who make believe that they're still Spetsnaz or Marines or whoever it is this week. Point is, she, a Ms. Vladilena as she's known to the business world or "Balalaika" to our world, is some tough shit. Much as I hate to admit it."
"Where do we come in?" Hansel furthered, drumming his fingers on his knee.
"Eager to get started? fine. Like I said, you two have the simple, simple, task of offing em," he went on about the various operations intertwined within the city. Drugs, laundering, gambling, if the twins named a crime, the Triads or the Russians were involved. If they named a place of business, it was owned and it was "owned." If there were two bits, gangsters, or mercenaries, they were hired on by either side. When the explanation was done, the twins thought of the city less that and more a plantation.
The twins took this in like some bad milk, though they did their best not to show any worry. Though Gretel scooted back in her seat when the topic of trafficking came into mix.
"-Some player, Jackpot, sells all that shit you might oughta get yer willy off with," Verrocchio smirked, "guess I got a backup plan in case you's prove a bad investment," he laughed. Nobody else did, not even his lacky's. They just smiled with a clear awkwardness when he looked at them. He sighed and looked back at the twins, "anymore ya need to hear about? cause I got some things that need sayin before I let you two go any where's."
"Go on..." Hansel had been looking at the floor for a while after the comment about this "Jackpot," and when he looked back up, for the slightest moment, a single speck, there was this pure look of untamed anger on his face. The Boy was quick to realize it and snapped back to the half-smile.
He glanced over to Gretel before Verrocchio began talking, she was looking down as well, low enough to where even he couldn't see her face. When he began speaking, however, her head rose just fine, smile and all.
"There are some certain folk I'll need ya to really, with a capital R, avoid," he held his hands out with three fingers, "one, there's a crazy ass Chinese or Tai bitch workin for the Triad. You see some girl who looks like an Asian princess with a buncha knives? get outta there. Two, we've been gettin some high caliber weaponry from a certain benefactor who's name ain't important, what is important is that the benefactor also provides some of those niceties to our enemy. Playing both sides. Any of em see ya before we're ready, that's an issue. And..."
He paused for a moment, then shook his head and went on, "Lastly...there's a certain band of mercs who I needs ya to takes care of first. They've been making a big name for emselves. Unfortunately, they've been makin it workin for...say it with me...the Triads and the Russians, and they call emselfs...The Lagoon Company."
The lodgings were a motel bought completely out by the Cosa Nostra. There wasn't a clerk at the desk in the middle when they entered, just a few men in light and dark suits that glanced up from newspapers and beers, staring the children down as they were flanked by Moretti and Bikey. The room itself had added round tables and multiple fold-out chairs, a recent addition no doubt.
The twins stood in the doorway, the sun shining off of them as they held their duffel bags close. Fans and air conditioning was a welcome commodity against the onset of the hot day outside.
"Gentlemen!" Verrocchio said raising his arms and placing it on the Twins shoulders, "welcome our bloody fairy tales, AKA the Vampire Twins, Hansel and Gretel," the two bowed, smiles on their faces. Some of the men were unnerved, some waved strangely, and others kept staring.
"They're gonna be stayin here for a little bit," he began leading them along, his hands firmly on their backs. The two shifted slightly but went with him still. "Now don't go and say or do nothin that wouldn't be peaceable with em, or else you'll be answering to Bikey and Moretti here, ain't that right boys," the two men nodded. "Great!"
He led them to the stairs, whispers about the two's age and who they were spread like wildfire among the men. Though they eventually went back to their gambling and booze like rats in a cage almost. Their propensity towards the criminal world laying the way for vices unthrottled. "Oh and meeting in ten, got that fellahs?" Verrocchio added, getting multiple yes sirs as a result.
"Gotta have a presence as a leader kids," he said as they ascended. "No respect? you get no money and shoot within a week or two. How do'ya think I got to where I am today?"
"Killing your boss?" Hansel asked looking up at him.
This seemed to actually throw Verrocchio off for a moment, he then chuckled, "Well yeah, put one right between the bastard's eyes but eh...you're a blunt guy ain't 'tcha kid?"
"I suppose so."
The last wooden rickety stair creaked as they reached the first floor, a long hallway with multiple black doors to rooms. Being led along the only sound was the footsteps and slight rustle of the weapons on their person and in their bags.
"So kids, whatdya think of our little abode?" Verrocchio asked, hands still on both.
"It's nice!" Gretel sweetly said.
"Heh, no need to lie little lady, it's a dump ain't it? yeah don't answer, you both know I can see it on yer face," he smirked, "wanna know why I'm smilin though? cause soon I'll be up in that big Russian tower fryface has all too herself, and you both? well, you'll have a piece of that pie. Just think about the reward."
He finally opened one of the doors and nodded his head to go inside. The room had separate queen size bed's with a few tables next and around the room, a television in the middle left of them, opposite the beds.
"Fer now, enjoy it all. You's are my guests and thus I'll provide ya with what ya need," he then held up a finger, "as long as you get the job done right, and remind me, what is yer first job?"
The two thought quickly and answered at the same time, "Kill the Lagoon Company."
Notes: I've seen other fics that make it so the twins are in some way less insane and do not partake in their more crazed actions and thought I'd do the same as the arc in the series was my favorite. I've been planning this one for a while so here's hoping it all works out in the end. Thanks for reading the first chapter.