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<<audio "mainsong" loop play>> It was late. She had returned home once the crickets began singing. There was nothing unsual about that night, Maxwell attempted his best to dust the furniture as gently as he could, and Brian swept the kitchen floor. When the witch entered the house, she cradled a bundle in her arms. Maxwell, being the more brave of the two familiars, walked up to his master and peered into her arms. In the large blanket, two small faces poked out. Only one pair of eyes stared back at him. The small child seemed focused on getting as much of its drool on its hand as it could, and cooing loudly next to its sibling. The later child slept peacefully, despite their siblings loud verbal disturbance. The other familiar held the broom tightly in both hands. Something gave him unease. After all, the babies looked nothing like her. As she unraveled the blanket, she revealed two sun-kissed children with ruby hair. The one cooing had unusually bright crimson eyes as well. "Brian, Maxwell, we will be caring for these two bundles of joy from now on," the witch pronounced. Brian was torn, he wasn't sure whether to give a [[curt nod]] or [[inspect the children further]].The witch was eccentric after all, this Brian knew. She brought younglings home all the time, most that didn't return back to their motherlands. Brian also knew the back end deals she made, hits requested by other villagers or even money exchanges for potions. It was best to stay out of his mistress's way. After all, she had the ability to kill them both, or even thrust them out into the cold. Maxwell told Brian he couldn't do that again, he wouldn't see his brother like that again. So they mind their business. They tend to the children as their mistress commands. [[Time presses on, and the seasons change.]] Brian's guilt rose even further as he approached the two babies. He knew his misstress was no good at taking care of things. Her every attempt at gardening failed miserably, even the cactus by the front window was starting to become dangerously ignored. What made her believe she could care for actual children? But most importantly, where had she found these babies? It was a feeling that wretched his gut, the idea of it made him extremely anxious, but he knew better than to ask. Maxwell, in his blissful ignorance, began reaching for one of the babies. The witch stepped back, and Maxwell's arms returned to his side. "Maxwell, let's [[prepare the bath]]," Brian offered instead.Brian stared at the thermometer, eyebrows furrowed. 102 degrees fahrenheit again. It was the second fever this week, third week in a row. It became apparent that only one child held many health issues, the other was fine. The sickly one, Brian discovered stitched onto his baby hat, was named Lea. Brian's hands flew to the baby's face, then his neck. He was warm all the way to his belly. Lea was squirming, his legs flinging into the air and a steady sound of displeasure coming from his mouth. "Sssh, I know you feel sick. I'm sorry," Brian held the baby close to his body and bounced him gently. The baby only continued to cry. Brian rubbed Lea's back gently as he left the nursery. The hallway held a [[black rotary dial phone]] on the small coffee table. It was much too old to have even a voicemail set up for it, but the witch had it forever and most likely just forgotten its existance. It was something she hoarded around whether it worked or not, just because her mother had it, and her mother's mother had it. Brian flicks on the bathroom light and steps in. With one hand wrapped around Lea's back, he used the other to open up the medicine. There were many unmarked bottles, some filled with liquids or various colors, others filled with white pills. The orange pill bottles were also unmarked. Brian himself hardly ever bothered with the medicine cabinet, he kept his own medications elsewhere. In his own bag, each carefully labeled properly with side effects and warnings labels. Brian pulls out a red bottle, one that only had Lea's name printed neatly on the bottle. The witch instructed Brian to give Lea three doses of this liquid per week, starting a bit before he started becoming sick. Brian had his resonable doubts, but he [[followed her instructions anyway]].Brian picks up the receiver and dials the number. He could hear his breathing through the other end and makes a better effort to breathe lightly. "Hello?" A groggy voice answers, it was a wonder the old man was still alive at all. "Doctor?" "Ah, Brian! What can I do for you?" "Well, it's-" Brian hears the ringing tone of an ended call. He turns his head to the left, although he already knew the presence of his mistress. A force pushes his face from the left to right side of his body. The stinging came next. Whatever she had said, Brian chose not to listen to. Instead, he covered his cheek and focused all his energy into not crying. He knew better than to cry. After all, she hated everything about him. Hated his femininity, his body shape and his cross-dressing. Hated that he was much cuter than her, clade in a skirt, makeup, and heels, and that he did so everyday without a bat of the eye. Hated even more when he customers were distracted by his beauty, basking in the bliss that was his lie. How dare he. Wordlessly, Brian left the room and returned to his own to find his concealer. He shouldn't have done that. He should've just [[followed her instructions anyway]].Brian unscrews the top of the bottle, then pours just a little bit of the liquid into the plastic cup. He holds it up to Lea's mouth, and he drinks the liquid slowly. As Brian puts the bottle away, Lea gives a few coughs. Throaty coughs. Then a dry whooping cough. Brian's heart drops into his belly. He knew what this "medicine" was doing to this child, and yet he couldn't think of anything better to do. Maybe he should just empty the spoonfuls into the sink, or the garbage, or out the window, but how would he explain the lack of Lea's poor health? It would only make his mistress make something much stronger for the next dosage. It probably was his own cowardice. Maybe his own fear of what he couldn't do, what he couldn't figure out, rather than the obvious choice for what is right to do. It was while he stood there, staring at Lea fall asleep in his crib, that the back gears of his head began turning to reach a solution for this poor child. If anything, he was thankful that Lea slept peacefully each night. [[Contrary to his twin, Vence.]]"Ah da da da da!!" Vence screamed as Maxwell approached the nursery. He laid the baby next to his already sleeping twin in their shared crib. Vence immediately begins climbing up into a standing position, then jumping vigorously. He did this each night. Maxwell approached the old wooden rocking chair and plopped down heavily. Brian wandered out of the room, still contemplating a plan. Maxwell stayed in the nursery as he did on most nights, as he was able to outlast Vence in the late hours of the night. On his usual tirad, Vence stayed up for most of the night, cooing the phrase: "da da da" until his tiny body could no longer stay up any later, and he would collapse next to his brother. Maxwell would stay up next to the twins until then, watching over the two. Brian and he took turns watching over the twins, though Maxwell usually forced Brian to give him more turns. After all, Brian was responsible for most of the cleaning, as Maxwell made too many mistakes when he cleaned. He also had too many unconventional ways for babysitting, so Brian was the primary caretaker for Lea. And Vence? Vence was much more favored by the witch. She spent all her time with that twin. They went everywhere together. To the park, the zoo, the mall, the toy store, the candy store, the library. She bathed with Vence and made Brian wash Lea in the bathroom sink. Sometimes, she would even read Vence a bedtime story before giving him to Maxwell to sleep. It was strange, Maxwell knew at the least. After all, [[he never quite trusted his mistress.]]He knew he should be thankful to her. After all, he was the one that came running to her with his brother half-dead in his arms. But Maxwell paid a bit more attention than others noticed. He saw the news reports of men - young men - going missing from the nearby village. Or the mysterious visits she would randomly receive, then speak in hushed tones and close the door when she saw Maxwell over her shoulder. She was up to something. Something sinister, and yet Maxwell couldn't figure out what it was. Maxwell was never terribly smart, this he knew, but he trusted his gut feelings more than anything else. It was all he had, and all he knew he could trust once he and Brian were alone. But time had no patience for Maxwell to figure things out. [[Time presses on, and the seasons change.]] Time was drawing nigh, as the witch kept saying. Her plans were almost complete, the last minute touches just had to fall into place. "This is the last vial, feed this to him and it will finish him off," the witch claimed when she gave Brian a green bottle for the last time. "He" was Lea, she didn't go through the trouble of acknowledging him anymore, she couldn't be bothered. Not with a sickling like it that was of no use to her. No, she would keep Vence, the strong buck. She would fatten him, ripen him up until he was the right age then pluck him for her own youth. After all, she had no business without her youthful beauty. Maxwell and Brian had taken the twins to the nursery for the last time, to watch over them until the witch was done with her preparations. For what, she had not said, nor had her familiars asked. Wordlessly, they parted ways. Brian stood by the crib, turning the bottle over and over in his hands several times. Both knew what would happen to the twins, both also knew what the contents in the bottle were. Whatever the witch had concocted, it wasn't meant to help Lea's sickness. That's why she wouldn't call a doctor, nor take the baby to see one. The question was: what to do now? Maxwell stared at his brother struggle with internal questions he didn't care to ask. Instead, his eyes remained tranfixed on the bottle as well. He had an idea. A dumb idea. A not-too-well-thought-out-idea that would never be developed further into a better one. What if . . . . What if he [[drank the poison]]? Then again, would he be cured? How long would he have to live? Was it strong enough to kill him? Seeing as how there had to be so many small samplings for such a small child, maybe the poison wouldn't kill him after all. Maybe he would be fine. Maybe the baby would be fine. Yes, all would be well. As long as his brother was fine, Maxwell decided nothing else mattered. Not himself. Not the twins. Not even the witch. It was the reason he came to the witch at all. His instincts were always right, he would trust his instincts. He watched with a blank expression as Brian unscrewed the bottle, and fed Lea [[one last capful]]. Maxwell's hand darts out to the bottle, and before Brian has a chance to react, he swallows the poison in on gulp. "M-Maxwell!" Brian protests. He stares at his older brother in shock, searching for words to say. Both are interrupted by the sudden shaking of the castle walls. In a dash, both lunge for the babies. Maxwell opens the closet door and sits inside with Lea in his lap, Brian follows with Vence squirming in his arms. There's yelling of the guards outside, and the ground continues to rumble. Despite this, Vence is excited, ecstatic even. "Da da!! Da da da da da!!" The baby screeches, his mouth is open in a smile that exposes his gums. Brian didn't understand his sudden happiness at this natural disaster occuring, but he refocused. Safety was top priority right now. He continues to make slow steps towards the closet over the uneven ground as furniture began to fall. The children's bookshelf topples over in front of his path, and Brian leans against the wall. By it, he [[peers out of the nearby window.]]<<audio "cough" play fadeout>> Lea swallows the poison weakly, there was more of it just falling into his mouth more than anything. He gives more throaty coughs and wheezes. Brian's heart breaks into two, but it's short-lived and the small baby closes his eyes. To the ignorant, it simply seemed as if he fell asleep. Hands shaking, Brian places the baby back into the nursery. What else was he to do with the body? More importantly, he was a murderer now. Maxwell enters the nursery, holding Vence in both hands clad in his pajamas. He was fully prepared for another night of baby babble. He pauses, then frowns upon seeing Brian. Brian was standing in the same spot near the crib, staring at his visibly shaking hands. His breathing was heavy, unsteady. Maxwell gently lays Vence down into the crib next to his brother, then turns to Brian, hoping to console him. Vence turns his head and looks at his brother, interested in his slumber. He babbles to him, placing his fingers onto his face. "Wii . . . Wii?" The baby inquired, though he knew the truth the moment he entered the crib. He no longer felt his twin's energy anymore. [[His brother is gone.]]<<audio "babycry" stop>> Thank you for taking the time to read this short interactive fiction! I hope you have very much enjoyed the story. Story, voice, and code done by Miss Blu from ParadoxAbominations. You can find ParadoxAbominations on [[tumblr||https://paradoxabominations.tumblr.com/]] and [[deviantart|https://paradoxabomination.deviantart.com/]]. Music: FairyTale Waltz by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution license (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/) Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1100232 Artist: http://incompetech.com/<<cacheaudio "mainsong" "music/FairyTale_Waltz.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "cough" "sfx/Whooping cough.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "steps" "sfx/footsteps.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "babycry" "sfx/baby cry.mp3">>Guards were gathering outside. They rushed by the numbers. Normally, they were idle and a bit lazy around the castle, as they usually had little to do. The witch still desired protection either way. Neither familiar had any idea how she paid so many. Or perhaps she hadn't paid them at all. Maybe she spared their lives in return for protection, or she gave them a potion to brainwash them, or cloned them somehow to do her bidding. Either way, her paranoia was not in vain. They charged quickly towards a lone figure, someone standing in the distance. They fired their weapons in their haste, and Brian was sure that the poor soul was certainly dead from all that was unleashed unto him. There was not much he could comprehend from that moment. There was a bright light, a warm feeling erupting in front of him. Then the soldiers were gone. Ashes left in the crater in the ground. Disintegrated. Fear washed through Brian's entire body. There was complete silence as the figure approached the castle still. It was here Brian caught his eye. Brian was paralyzed by fear. It was a man, a single man that approached his current home. His eyes were ablaze with rage, glowing a bright red color he had only seen depicted on the devil himself. His claws were as sharp as knives, and as long as Brian's forearm. He was shaking, to say the least. Brian was sure this was the end. This was his punishment for all his past sins. And of course, for what he's allowed to happen to these twins. Brian wondered if he should say a prayer, or if he even deserved to recite one for the mistakes he's made. Maxwell approached the window, slowly but sure. Vence was cooing happily now, his arms outstretched to something beyond that window. Lea turned his head as well towards the window, "Da da!" Maxwell glanced out the window at the man approaching the castle, more guards were coming out again. [[Now, it all made sense to him.]] "[[Protect the twins]]!" Brian reminds Maxwell, distracting him from his thoughts. Maxwell turns, leaving the castle with baby Lea encased in his arms. Brian followed in suit, shouting his brother's name. If he said something else, he wasn't aware of it. By the time the two reached the door, the second wave of soldiers were wiped out again. Maxwell turns to Brian in the doorway, and takes both twins in arms. He approaches the man slowly, carefully. The unknown man stares at Maxwell, his interest piqued. Once a few feet away, Maxwell holds the twins out to the man. There's a short pause before he takes the two into his arms. For a moment, the rage leaves his eyes. They're flat, curving down into what seems like sorrow. "My precious boys . . ." He mumbles as he hugs the two close. They coo back and wrap their fat arms around him. In the next moment, the man looks back at the two familiars. "W-w-we're very sorry sir!" Brian stutters, still preparing for his death. Maxwell was surprisingly at ease, he stood just as tall as the father himself. A blank expression on his eyes, though a small satisified smile on his face. "Was it you two who took my sons?" The father asks in a grave voice. Maxwell responds, knowing very well his brother was too afraid to speak: "Witch," was all he said. Maxwell was never good at speaking, and once he became a familiar, he left most of the talking to Brian. He never spoke more than a few words at a time. "Where is she?" Maxwell points back behind them, towards the castle. "Can I trust you two?" He nods vigorously, his hair shaking into a mess on his head. The father drags his claws down through the air. In its wake, a portal opens up behind it. Neither familiar had seen such a thing before, but they've heard the witch and plenty of her visitors discuss them before. She had forbidden both of them to use portals, in order to better monitor their locations. Brian recovers from the awe first, grabbing the twins carefully and stepping through. Maxwell gives the father a big, goofy grin despite the inevitable massacre that will continue after his abscence and follows his younger brother. [[Credits]]Instructions: This is an interactive fiction short story. It's better understood as a "choose your own adventure" tale. You will be given options in the text that affects the story as you move forward. Possible choices are in red and can be clicked to advance the plot. Please enjoy. [[Begin]]<<audio "cough" stop>> <<audio "babycry" play loop>> He whines, a soft whimper that slowly explodes into a shriek. A cry of pain, left ignored by Brian. Maxwell turns to Vence, then back to Brian, who's disposition hadn't changed at all. Maxwell panicked. What was happening? He couldn't read the atmosphere at all, he needed Brian to explain things to him. Brian was much too preoccupied with his own mental breakdown at this point, the shrill cry of Vence's mourning haunting him even further. He had a headache - no, a migrane. It felt as if something were squishing his head. At first he thought Maxwell was holding his head in between his palms, but the shear gravity of it all made it seem as if two boulders were going to crush his head. He wanted to scream, but couldn't bring a sound to come out of his mouth. Maxwell collapsed to the ground, unable to hold himself up any longer. Their bodies felt heavy suddenly, as if some weights were placed upon their shoulders. 'Make it stop,' Maxwell begged in his mind. 'Please make it stop.' Maybe it was his own imagination, maybe his mind playing tricks on him in his final moments. But he swore he saw a hole open, right in the air next to them. It was as dark as the abyss and everything around in swirled into oblivion. He doesn't remember much, just that unbearable weight on his body, the shrieking of a baby's cry, and colors swirling together into blackness. [[Credits]]Maxwell moves to the basement, he holds Vence in his arms as he cuddles next to Brian in the corner. Brian clutches Lea close to his chest, Maxwell wraps an arm around his younger brother. Perhaps they would actually be safe here. Maybe the man would find enough to destroy to satisfy his blood lust. They would be fine, everything would be fine. They sat huddled together in the basement corner, hugging each other. The twins were indfferent to the screams of death and explosions of destruction outside. They stayed like that for what felt like eternity, until the castle stopped rumbling. Peace and quiet returned to the home. Was it over? <<audio "steps" play>> A door creaks open, the silver thread of light slices into the room. The two familiars momentarily blinded by the flurescents. AT the top of the staircase stood the man from before. He trudged slowly, each step echoing with a loud thump. Brian was breathing loudly, his heart thumping out of his chest. Once down the stairs, he could audibly hear the man coming closer, and hid his face in his brother's chest. Maxwell could feel Brian's lips reciting some sort of prayer. He was surprised Brian had memorized one at all, considering that neither of them were religious. He thought such a thing was useless, there was no god to answer their prayers, they never answered before. Even if someone had heard them, [[they were much too heathenous to be saved]].<<audio "steps" stop>> This was it, this was their end. Maxwell clutches Brian closer and turns his head away, shoving his face into his brother's hair. Maxwell had no last words, no prayers to offer, not even a dirty look to shoot. He empties his mind and prepares for the inevitable. The end. [[Credits]]