This is the first chapter of a book I'm writing... If anyone seems to think that it has potential, I'll post some more. I would really appreciate any feedback; this is my first serious writing attempt... It would mean a lot to me.
Twilight kept floating in and out of reality. The questions were blurring together. At first he thought he heard Amen’s voice, then he was sure that it was Morning’s. The light burned his eyes and his vision was blurred by tears, but he fought them open anyway. His vision fooled him as much as his hearing. He thought that he saw Morning’s face, his coffee-with-to-much-creme skin, but the next instant it seemed to glow green, and his face was replaced with their father’s chissled features.
“Where is she?” Morning asked, the same question he had asked every day for seven years.
“I don’t know.” Twilight gave the same reply, “Father believe me, I don’t know!” he screamed as he felt the fire rush through him again and again. His organs were exposed, but his limbs were bound; there was nothing he could do to stop the pain. His vision flashed again, the image torn between Morning and Amen, and he was amazed by how similar they looked- they had the same exact build.
“I don’t know!” he screamed again, unable to look at what was dripping down his exposed back from above, scortching fur and dissolving flesh as it fell, “Please, father! I don’t know! He didn’t tell me!”
Morning twitched involuntarily. He was never sure what those screams were about, but he hated it when Twilight compared him to their father. He had done it on the day he had died, and it seemed that he had never stopped doing it. He knew that it would only make his torture worse, so why he continued to do it completely escaped Morning. He supposed that Twilight was still not ready to talk, and was still trying to hurt him, trying to argue with him.
“Oh stop it Sek!” he bellowed, and a few of the minor demons fell back into the shadows involuntarily at the sound of his voice, “Aren’t you tired of this game yet, kitten? Just tell me where they are, and what they’re planning, and I’ll let you go.”
“I don’t know!” Twilight screamed in agony as the liquid above him tipped and fell, scortching his flesh and pooling up in the small of his back. He tried to flail, but he was held tight by steaks that hooked through his wrists and ankles, he only succeeded in tearing his flesh and adding a new coat of the bright red lubricant on top of the magenta stain that had already formed. He slipped a few inches further down and the liquid that had collected splashed and took tiny pieces of flesh with it. He screamed again, “I don’t know!” and a light flashed on in his eyes, “Please Morning,” he begged, “my brother… Please, don’t hurt me anymore… You know that I would tell you, if I knew. I haven’t seen them. It’s been so long… Why?”
“I don’t believe you.” Morning said simply, without inflection or changing the expression on his face, “Release the bees.”
“Please!” Twilight screamed, “No!”
They fell into the sticky pool that had once been his skin and fur. It was malable now, after the burns he had received, and moved like playdough. The bees were, of course, upset by this, because they became instantly stuck, and unable to fly away. Twilight squirmed as the hell-bees fought for their lives before giving up and sending their venom through his battered, broken veigns. They pulled at his burnt flesh, but to no avail- their carcases would rot there until the flesh healed and popped them out. It always healed.
“You bring it on yourself.” Morning knelt, so as to be level with Twilight’s face, “If you would only tell me what I want to hear… Use your brain, kitten. Tell me what I want to hear, even if it’s a lie.”
“I never meant to hurt you.” Twilight meant to murmer, but it came out as a scream. “Never.”
“Then why, kitten?” Morning asked, taking Twilight’s face in his hands and smoothing the skin there, the skin that had been below the splatter, the perfect, flawless, iridecent skin under a thin layer of their mother’s fur, “Why did you help Amen? Why did you try so hard to keep me from my son? You knew he was my only request. You knew that he was all it took to keep me happy. Why did you try so hard to separate us?”
“Mom said,” Twilight began after taking a deep breath, but Morning cut him off.
“I don’t care what mommy said!” he bellowed, and raked his hands down Twilight’s face, in the same manner that he had been caressing, only exerting significantly more pressure, so that when he pulled away, he had to clean the flesh out from under his fingernails. Twilight hadn’t screamed when he had pulled it off. “I’m so sick of ‘mommy said’ and ‘mommy wants’. ‘Mommy didn’t want me to tell you!’ You’re going to talk, Sekra. You’re going to say what mommy didn’t want you to say if it takes a billion more years of this! You think that you’ve seen it all by now, don’t you? I’m able to light half my house with the candles I’ve made from your severed flesh! You’ll keep healing, and I’ll keep thinking of new ways to hurt you! It’s my realm, I’ll think of lots of new pain, and lots of new senses to feel it with! You’re going to talk!”
“You give this speech every night, super sadist.” Twilight hissed and jerked his head up, killing several of the bees who had been squirming there as the skin on his neck was healing, “I think you get off listening to yourself. You’re one of those guys who keep a mirror over your bed, aren’t you? I’m sure Lil appreciates it, after all, you still have all of your angelic beauty.”
“You’re quite possibly the stupidest person I’ve ever met!” Morning bellowed so that they entire room shook, “Do you like pain?”
“Please master,” Twilight spoke in his most mocking of voices, “more more more! There’s nothing you can do to me that I can’t heal from, and after all this time, I’m starting to get a taste for-“
He had fallen silent because Morning had produced two objects. One was a small, round mirror, the other was a dagger with a golden hilt. Twilight’s eyes grew larger and rounder as he stared upon the two items. Morning sat the mirror down and covered it with a cloth. As he did, Twilight lowered his head and whimpered, in the pitiful way that only a kitten can whimper.
“Now, Sekra,” Morning hissed, “Would you like me to cut you where it doesn’t grow back?” Twilight whimpered again. “Then why don’t you tell me what it is that mommy is doing?”
“She didn’t want you to know.” Twilight sobbed, the tears running down his face where Morning had scratched him and stinging, “Please Morning, I’m begging you… Begging…”
“I do love it when you beg.” Morning stood, “But you know what it means.” Slowly, Twilight nodded, “You get a time out. In the mirror, until I take you out tomarrow. You’ve been in there seven years now, kitten. How long will it take?”
“Please, don’t put me back in there, Morning.” Twilight looked up at him, tears streaking freely down his face, “Please! I’m your brother! How can you hate me so much? I gave him back! I did everything right! Please! Please don’t put me back in there…”
“Your body heals, Sek. This is the only way to get your mind to crack. If you would just talk…” Morning faultered for a mere second, as his eyes caught those of his brother, and grew round and moist with sympathy, “Just talk, Sek. Please?”
“I can’t.” Twilight forgot about raising his head, “She doesn’t want you to know.”
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