Dawn and Dusk: Guardian Angel.

Another story about Dawn and Dusk, the pair of violent, pyromaniac twin brothers. Some woman calls Dawn a f*g.

I always found it entertaining when they would call me a demon. Their eyes would widen, overflowing with fear, and they would begin to sputter nonsensical phrases at me. “Demon! Satan’s child! Devil!” …there were so many words that they would use to describe me, hoping perhaps that one would get through and pacify me long enough to allow them escape.

 

Of course, that never happened. Sometimes my brother, Dawn, would get hesitant after their begging and he would glance at me as if to ask if I should really continue, but my response was always the same; give no mercy.

 

The world showed no mercy to Dawn and me, and so I offered none to it in return. If someone was foolish enough to provoke me, then they would pay for that mistake. Every crime toward either of us was treated equally. Every crime received a penalty of death.

 

Even this crime, which was one most would consider minor, would be punished with death. The woman who was our victim had made a grave mistake, and although Dawn was once again struggling with a desire for me to let her go, my mind was set and I intended to go through with this.

 

I stepped closer to her. Her face looked to be in its early twenties, but her style of dress was so ugly and old-fashioned that it added about a decade to her age overall. A flowery-patterned blouse and skirt hung over black leggings and hideous shoes; she looked so goody-goody and disgusting.

 

My face twisted into an unpleased expression and my tongue stuck out a bit to affirm my revulsion.

 

“Ew,” I commented in her direction, “you are quite a repulsive specimen.”

 

She gawked at me, her frightened expression flaring up for a moment with anger.

 

“Why you-! You wretched little boy! You-!”

 

“Shuddup,” I demanded, and to my liking she immediately obeyed. “I’ve already told you that I’m going to kill you, so do you think insulting me is what you really want to do?”

 

She shook her head and her panicked expression increased. “No, no!” she pleaded, “Please! I didn’t mean what I said – I was only kidding around! I didn’t mean it, I swear!”

 

I barely listened to her pleading and instead simply took another step forward, pushing her even farther into the corner. She was cowering now.

 

“Don’t try that with me,” I directed her. “You meant exactly what you said. What was it again? Remind me.”

 

She tried to press herself against the wall even more, tyring so hard to escape me. Just as I had expected, she didn’t repeat her words when I asked her to.

 

“Come on. Tell me again what it was that you said.” My hissing words were accompanied by a demonic smile, delighting in seeing her terror. She was shaking, whimpering, crying; it was a priceless sight to see.

 

She turned her head away from me and sobbed, and I closed in. My fingers found her chin and I turned her face toward my own, ignoring the fact that she had closed her eyes.

 

“Tell me,” I demanded again, digging my nails into her flesh until she jerked away and wailed.

 

I glanced at Dawn, speaking to the woman as I looked at my brother. “No matter. I remember. You insulted him. You called my brother…what was it again?”

 

I returned my gaze to her and waited a moment for a response. When she offered none, I simply continued.

 

“…A f*g. You called him a f*g.” My words were impassive, but they caused the girl to cry even louder.

 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Please understand! I didn’t mean it!” She wailed uselessly, but I paid it no heed.

 

“No one calls my brother a f*g,” I said lightly, turning and walking a few steps away from her. She quieted, more than likely thinking about running, but I knew that she wouldn’t get very far.

 

I picked up a small water bottle filled with a black, oily substance, examining it a moment before turning to face the girl again. Her eyes were flickering around madly as she searched for an escape route. I grinned.

 

“Don’t even try to run,” I suggested, “since it won’t do you any good.”

 

She dashed sideways anyway.

 

Watching her run a couple meters out of her corner only to be met with another wall, I chuckled. She darted back and forth, back and forth, but she didn’t dare try to run past Dawn or me. After a couple minutes, she collapsed to the floor and took to crying and begging at us once again.

 

I walked up to her.

 

“That was a very good attempt,” I laughed, “but I’m afraid you’re beat.” She stood no chance against us. She was over.

 

Then without warning, the woman suddenly jumped up and lunged at me. I was taken by surprise and found myself thrown off balance, but luckily I remained standing whereas she fell again. I stepped over her, slightly annoyed now, and opened the bottle.

 

She sobbed into the wooden floor.

 

As the cap was tossed aside and I tilted the bottle, gasoline poured in beautiful black ribbons through the air and onto her body, drenching her hair and making patterns on her back. It soaked through her clothes and stuck to her skin, puddled around her and seeped into the cracks in the floorboards. Yes, she was very much beaten now.

 

From where I stood I splashed more gasoline onto the wood around her, making a wide circle around her body and drawing lines leading up to her. I looked toward Dawn and he backed away a little. Then I kicked the woman.

 

“See you in Hell,” I cooed, drawing a pack of matches out of my pocket, jumping out of the circle, lighting the match, and dropping the flame onto the gasoline patterns before the woman could even begin to stand up.

 

A burst of flame exploded in front of me, and quickly I backed up to stand beside Dawn. The woman’s screams started almost immediately and we saw her stand, but she didn’t get very far and we made sure that she never left that house.

 

…Perhaps there’s some truth in it when people call me a demon, but I like to think of it in a different sense. I think we’re angels, Dawn and I, and that everyone else is the bad guys. Neither of us has ever hurt anyone simply for fun; I live only to protect Dawn and to exterminate those who insult or threaten him in any way.

 

I’m his guardian angel.

Reviews

[Aldora Sparrow]

I didn't notice I was holding my breath until the end. I guess that is the best way to describe this piece. "Breath-taking." I love the God-like aura Dusk has and fierce passion to protect his brother. Like yin and yang, they can't exist without one another. Beautifully addicting.
I also loved how it made it seem that Dusk was justified in doing this to the woman. I just think some more description, especially the burning part, would make it more alive. Also, reading it a second time (because I loved it that much) I noticed "trying" was misspelled in "She tried to press herself against the wall even more, tyring so hard to escape me." Apart from that, this was a wonderful read and I look forward to reading your other works!

[Jess_l_y]

Haha, I love that you don't like Eminem because of how violent he is and you write this :P It's awesome though, I really like it. A great continuation of the last story with these two. You should write more with the brothers! I want to know what happens next... :/ Great descriptions, as usual :)

[Banished]

This was amazing!
honestly, i logged onto my computer and this story came up on my home page. I decided to click on it, though only skim through the first few sentences because i was supposed to start my social studies homework about an hour ago ;]
Of course, the first two sentences were just far too good to skim through.
so here i am after reading the whole story and writing a comment.

This story is short, and wouldn't be better otherwise.
everything just seemed to flow perfectly and the ending was great.
I was really able to feel the anger and hate flowing through the main character.
Amazing write.
keep up the great work!!

-Banished