Michael Korso Sat Aug 18, 2012 7:31 pm[[WARNING! This ir rated M for adult themes and all that other good stuf. You've been warned^^]]
Michael had always been the weaker of the two, but he’d never really cared about it. As long as he could stay close to his brother, everything would be fine. After all, Joseph had promised to never leave his side.
Getting used to their life after escaping their father wasn’t the easiest thing to do, not that they had expected anything less. And Joseph seemed to enjoy their ways of getting them by the days.
At first, Mike was scared about everything, even his own brother form the start. He could tell the older twin had changed. The way he got excited when he saw or even smelled blood, craving for it.
The younger had almost missed the prison they called home. For a while he wanted to go back to the small, dark room without any windows, the hard and cold bed, with Joseph cradling him protectively in his arms, never letting go until their father separated them.
The thought of their father made him want to throw up. He still woke up screaming after remembering those nights he would lock him up in a different room for days, away from his twin, having his way with Michael until he got tired of him and disappeared for a few days, only to repeat the same thing every time he got back. It was if he could still feel the man on him, inside him, smell the strong alcohol and sweat. Still hear their father’s cruel laughter and disgusting moans of pleasure as he entered him. Over and over again.
Joseph had always tried to stop him, but it was all in vain. And whenever he stood up to the man or refused to do as told Michael got punished for it instead, leaving the other twin to drown in guilt and his growing madness.
The first times the man took him Michael always screamed and cried until his throat went raw. Then he just stopped making any sort of noise, he stayed completely quiet and closed his eyes. He tried to shut everything out and instead imaging him and Joseph somewhere else, outside, away from this place called ‘home’.
They had never been outside… Michael didn’t even know what to think of the outside world. He had never been good at making things up on his own.
Whenever Michael was brought back to their own room, Joseph would always be sitting on their bed with his eyes locked on the door, wide awake and with a cold expression.
Michael always ignored it at first and stumbled straight towards the small bathroom they had. His twin’s hands were always bruised and bloody when he came back, probably after all his violent attempts in breaking down the door and punches against the walls. Michael always heard muffled screams from the other while their father had his way with him, trying to get to him, promising everything would soon be over and even threating the man. Nothing ever helped though, and they both knew it all too well.
Michael remembers that one time after he had been tossed back inside their room, wanting nothing else then to crawl down under the blankets and cuddle with Joseph, that his brother had looked at him with disgust.
Mike had been too scared, ashamed to move closer to the other, afraid to be pushed away from the only other person he had an could trust in his life. Joseph had instead walked over to the younger and then dragged him into the bath room, all the while avoiding looking at him in the eyes.
Mike hadn’t dared open his mouth to ask what was wrong, if his brother had finally gotten sick of him.
“You smell of him.”
His brother’s voice had sounded so cold, so hateful, almost making Mike break down all over again. But he kept quiet, his face empty of any emotion. Maybe that’s what had made Joe so angry. He never liked Mike being so… emotionless.
Joseph had scrubbed his body clean that night, making sure to get the smell of alcohol and their fathers scent off of him. He had rubbed the skin so hard until he almost broke it, more than it already was. He got more angry whenever he noticed new bite marks over the weaker twin, as if saying that Mike belonged to that mad man, that he was his property, taunting Joseph.
“I won’t let him touch you again Mikey.”
Joseph had promised him that so many times to before and always failed to keep it, so of course Mike didn’t expect him to fulfill it this time either.
However, what he didn’t expect was that sudden hug he got right after he said those words that time. Sure, they hugged each other almost all the time, but… this embrace wasn’t that usual loving and protective one Joseph always comforted him with. It had been more… possessive.
“I won’t let anyone touch you.”
Michael hadn’t found his voice to answer and had just nodded instead, neither returning the hug nor pulling away. He wasn’t scared, but he wasn’t happy either. At that point Michael had simply stopped caring what would happen. They would be stuck there.
He had never been so happy to be wrong. He’d never would’ve dared to dream that the next night their father returned, the man would be drunk enough to forgot to close the door after him, leaving an opening for the twins to escape.
He could still see the dead body of the man in front of him as he drowned in his own blood, and Joseph repeatedly digging the knife deep into the man. There had been… so much blood. So much of that dreaded color that his beloved brother came to carve.
Their nightmare was over. Right?
Apparently, the outside world they had dreamed about so long wasn’t as perfect as they had thought it’d be. In fact, it was far from being perfect, not close at all. Everyone cared for themselves only, and they looked down at the people in need with disgust. And the people who was supposed to help, knights they were called, only turned away their head the other way and ran over to those with money.
Maybe they just had bad luck. Or maybe, this was just how the world worked. Some was born with luck and fortune, while the rest was doomed to rot in a hole. Things would stay like that unless one didn’t change it, or did something. And that’s exactly what they did.
Unlike all those other cowards, they fucking did something.
Michael had always been the weaker of the two, but he’d never really cared about it. As long as he could stay close to his brother, everything would be fine. After all, Joseph had promised to never leave his side.
Getting used to their life after escaping their father wasn’t the easiest thing to do, not that they had expected anything less. And Joseph seemed to enjoy their ways of getting them by the days.
At first, Mike was scared about everything, even his own brother form the start. He could tell the older twin had changed. The way he got excited when he saw or even smelled blood, craving for it.
The younger had almost missed the prison they called home. For a while he wanted to go back to the small, dark room without any windows, the hard and cold bed, with Joseph cradling him protectively in his arms, never letting go until their father separated them.
The thought of their father made him want to throw up. He still woke up screaming after remembering those nights he would lock him up in a different room for days, away from his twin, having his way with Michael until he got tired of him and disappeared for a few days, only to repeat the same thing every time he got back. It was if he could still feel the man on him, inside him, smell the strong alcohol and sweat. Still hear their father’s cruel laughter and disgusting moans of pleasure as he entered him. Over and over again.
Joseph had always tried to stop him, but it was all in vain. And whenever he stood up to the man or refused to do as told Michael got punished for it instead, leaving the other twin to drown in guilt and his growing madness.
The first times the man took him Michael always screamed and cried until his throat went raw. Then he just stopped making any sort of noise, he stayed completely quiet and closed his eyes. He tried to shut everything out and instead imaging him and Joseph somewhere else, outside, away from this place called ‘home’.
They had never been outside… Michael didn’t even know what to think of the outside world. He had never been good at making things up on his own.
Whenever Michael was brought back to their own room, Joseph would always be sitting on their bed with his eyes locked on the door, wide awake and with a cold expression.
Michael always ignored it at first and stumbled straight towards the small bathroom they had. His twin’s hands were always bruised and bloody when he came back, probably after all his violent attempts in breaking down the door and punches against the walls. Michael always heard muffled screams from the other while their father had his way with him, trying to get to him, promising everything would soon be over and even threating the man. Nothing ever helped though, and they both knew it all too well.
Michael remembers that one time after he had been tossed back inside their room, wanting nothing else then to crawl down under the blankets and cuddle with Joseph, that his brother had looked at him with disgust.
Mike had been too scared, ashamed to move closer to the other, afraid to be pushed away from the only other person he had an could trust in his life. Joseph had instead walked over to the younger and then dragged him into the bath room, all the while avoiding looking at him in the eyes.
Mike hadn’t dared open his mouth to ask what was wrong, if his brother had finally gotten sick of him.
“You smell of him.”
His brother’s voice had sounded so cold, so hateful, almost making Mike break down all over again. But he kept quiet, his face empty of any emotion. Maybe that’s what had made Joe so angry. He never liked Mike being so… emotionless.
Joseph had scrubbed his body clean that night, making sure to get the smell of alcohol and their fathers scent off of him. He had rubbed the skin so hard until he almost broke it, more than it already was. He got more angry whenever he noticed new bite marks over the weaker twin, as if saying that Mike belonged to that mad man, that he was his property, taunting Joseph.
“I won’t let him touch you again Mikey.”
Joseph had promised him that so many times to before and always failed to keep it, so of course Mike didn’t expect him to fulfill it this time either.
However, what he didn’t expect was that sudden hug he got right after he said those words that time. Sure, they hugged each other almost all the time, but… this embrace wasn’t that usual loving and protective one Joseph always comforted him with. It had been more… possessive.
“I won’t let anyone touch you.”
Michael hadn’t found his voice to answer and had just nodded instead, neither returning the hug nor pulling away. He wasn’t scared, but he wasn’t happy either. At that point Michael had simply stopped caring what would happen. They would be stuck there.
He had never been so happy to be wrong. He’d never would’ve dared to dream that the next night their father returned, the man would be drunk enough to forgot to close the door after him, leaving an opening for the twins to escape.
He could still see the dead body of the man in front of him as he drowned in his own blood, and Joseph repeatedly digging the knife deep into the man. There had been… so much blood. So much of that dreaded color that his beloved brother came to carve.
Their nightmare was over. Right?
Apparently, the outside world they had dreamed about so long wasn’t as perfect as they had thought it’d be. In fact, it was far from being perfect, not close at all. Everyone cared for themselves only, and they looked down at the people in need with disgust. And the people who was supposed to help, knights they were called, only turned away their head the other way and ran over to those with money.
Maybe they just had bad luck. Or maybe, this was just how the world worked. Some was born with luck and fortune, while the rest was doomed to rot in a hole. Things would stay like that unless one didn’t change it, or did something. And that’s exactly what they did.
Unlike all those other cowards, they fucking did something.
or both?<333 ^^thanks for reading it Bri :'D 
