Circle (Prologue)
Circle
Pairing(s): HaeHyuk, HyukMin
Rating: R
Warning(s): Incest, character death, disturbing themes, horror, gore, etc.
Summary: Donghae does everything to protect and care for his twin brother, Hyukjae. No one comes between them. No one.
A life full of lies and deceit and an unconditional love that borders on dangerous; Donghae and Hyukjae are always running away from their dark past, but how long can the twins keep running for?
The putrid stench was eye watering. It overpowered you the moment you stepped over the threshold of the house.
Hyukjae gagged when he caught the initial waft of it and then remembered that it was now customary to clamp his hand over his mouth whenever he was entering the house. He went quickly into the kitchen, closing the door behind him and he breathed in. The smell wasn’t so pungent in there, barely noticeable. But Hyukjae could still smell it. Perhaps it was because he knew it was there; perhaps it was because he hadn’t been able to get the image of what lay beneath him out of his head. It haunted him. He woke up in the early hours of the morning most days with his skin crawling, his t-shirt sticking to him with cold sweat.
The sounds of the house didn’t ease him in the slightest. It was an old house but it was affordable and that was what had mattered at the time they had moved in; Hyukjae and his brother, Donghae, had needed some place to live and fast. It creaked and howled with the wind. Sometimes, it sounded like there were voices, whispering, hissing at Hyukjae, never letting him forget. Even when he was a child, he had been afraid of things that went bump in the night, but now it was different; he wasn’t just afraid of monsters under his bed anymore, these things were real. Often, things were more scary when they were real.
Hyukjae didn’t like the house. Old houses were supposed to be filled with memories, and he didn’t doubt that this one was, but they weren’t his memories. It was his house but definitely not his home; he felt like at any moment, the real owners of the house would come and Hyukjae and his brother would be able to go back to their real home. But did he really want to back there, to those memories, to his memories?
He looked around the kitchen but lately, his appetite had left him. Just the thought of food was enough to make his stomach churn. He felt constantly nauseous nowadays - at work he was always running to the bathroom to vomit, heaving until his ribs felt like they would crack. His boss had looked at him one morning, pale skin, dark circles and lifeless eyes, “are you fit to be here?” He had asked and Hyukjae had nodded so vigorously that he was sure that he could feel his brain hitting the inside of his head. He would rather have been at work, in front of a computer all day than at home. Anywhere was better than home.
Hyukjae went out of the kitchen abruptly, covering his mouth with his sleeve. He couldn’t stand this. There were only two options as he saw it - either he handed himself into the police or they got rid of it as soon as possible! Maybe with it gone, out of the house, it would be out of his mind too? Maybe then he could try and go back to normality, whatever that was.
The house was pretty, all wooden floors and a wooden staircase - oak. There were three bedrooms, a bathroom, a large kitchen-come-dining room, the living room and not forgetting the basement. The exterior was red brick and had pretty flowers growing on vines up the walls; the garden always smelled floral too. It didn’t really seem like a house for two young adults, two brothers, it was more a house for a small family or perhaps an older couple. Wouldn’t an apartment suit two young men more? But as they had discovered before, an apartment was more trouble than expected; neighbours were more nosey and the walls were too thin...
It was the height of summer, on the way home from the office, Hyukjae had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt a little, it felt good to have a soft breeze down his back after a long day in a stuffy room. He walked home, even though the bus route ran the same way as his house. It was calming to hear the world around him, continuing and unaware. When he heard children laughing and shrieking he wished that he could be as innocent as them again, but maybe he had never really been that innocent; the days when he didn’t feel burdened or afraid. He envied children.
The smell made him gag. He’d only smelled something like it once, when he was perhaps nine and his pet hamster died. She had been getting old anyway and one night, he remembered he had gone straight upstairs to feed her after he got home from school to find her lying motionless in cage, blood matted in her white fur, her black eyes motionless in her small head. He had cried and Donghae had comforted him. Donghae had put the hamster in a shoebox to bury in the morning. By morning, the contents of the shoebox smelled so strong that it made Hyukjae’s eyes water all over again; he’d never smelled anything like it, worse than any sort of dirty drain or rotten meat he had ever smelled. They spoke about death having its own smell, about the smell of death being so unique that it’s unforgettable. Donghae had wrinkled his nose but hadn’t complained. He’d dug a small hole at the bottom of the garden for the hamster while Hyukjae watched in floods of tears. The smell stuck in the back of his throat for days. The stench of death seemed to linger around him for days too and he had trouble sleeping. He had hoped he would never have to smell that again.
Hyukjae took the stairs quickly, as if trying to not just distance himself from the smell from downstairs, but the knowledge of what lay beneath the staircase that wasn’t so easily removed from his mind.
He went to the bedroom at the end of the hall to see Donghae because Donghae would know what to do. Donghae always knew what to do.
His hand trembled as he laid his fingers on the door handle. The room was darkened when Hyukjae pushed the door open. He could just make out the silhouette of another person by the window.
“Donghae?” he said quietly into the room, entering and closing the door behind him. Shutting out the smell.
“What is it?” Came a low voice through the darkness.
Hyukjae hadn’t wanted to go to Donghae but this wouldn’t just go away on its own. Donghae was already so angry with him though. He couldn’t see Donghae’s face, but he knew by the tone of the other’s voice that that anger had not subsided.
“The... The smell.” Hyukjae said hoarsely, “it’s... getting stronger.”
Donghae snorted derisively, “of course it is. He’s rotting. It’s summer. Things rot faster in the heat.”
Hyukjae winced at his brother’s harsh words.
“Can’t we... Can’t we get rid of it now?”
Donghae laughed callously. “Sure, Hyukjae, I’ll take one end, you take the other and we’ll dispose of him in broad daylight. Why don’t we ask the neighbours to lend a hand? I have no idea why you don’t have a career as a brain surgeon or rocket scientist yet.”
Hyukjae’s gaze dropped to the floor and he felt his cheeks burn. “I... I’m sorry.”
Donghae heaved a sigh and crossed the room to his brother. They were twins, almost completely identical but Donghae was more muscular, shorter by a touch and slightly stockier, his throat was thicker, he had a mole on his neck. Eunhyuk was skinnier, he had smaller eyes and paler skin, his nose wrinkled when he smiled and he had thinner lips. Once one became acquainted with these small differences, it was easy to tell the twins apart.
Donghae took his brother’s hands in his own. “I know you’re sorry. You don’t have to keep repeating yourself.”
Hyukjae let his head hang forward so he didn’t have to meet his brother’s gaze. “I am sorry. I... I just don’t want you to be angry with me anymore.”
Donghae sighed and squeezed Hyukjae’s hands, “Baby brother, I’m not mad with you, just with what you did. There’s a difference.”
“I’m sorry,” Hyukjae repeated.
Hyukjae couldn’t see it exactly, but he knew that Donghae was smirking. “If you want me to be less angry, you can start by not apologising so much.”
Hyukjae nodded hesitantly and Donghae squeezed his hands again. “Listen, it’s going to be okay. Leave everything to your big brother; I always take care of you, don’t I? I always make everything better, right?” Hyukjae nodded and when he looked up into his twin’s sparkling eyes, the other was smiling as he lent down to gently kiss Hyukjae on the forehead. “Don’t worry, baby. Your big brother will take care of you.”
Pairing(s): HaeHyuk, HyukMin
Rating: R
Warning(s): Incest, character death, disturbing themes, horror, gore, etc.
Summary: Donghae does everything to protect and care for his twin brother, Hyukjae. No one comes between them. No one.
A life full of lies and deceit and an unconditional love that borders on dangerous; Donghae and Hyukjae are always running away from their dark past, but how long can the twins keep running for?
The putrid stench was eye watering. It overpowered you the moment you stepped over the threshold of the house.
Hyukjae gagged when he caught the initial waft of it and then remembered that it was now customary to clamp his hand over his mouth whenever he was entering the house. He went quickly into the kitchen, closing the door behind him and he breathed in. The smell wasn’t so pungent in there, barely noticeable. But Hyukjae could still smell it. Perhaps it was because he knew it was there; perhaps it was because he hadn’t been able to get the image of what lay beneath him out of his head. It haunted him. He woke up in the early hours of the morning most days with his skin crawling, his t-shirt sticking to him with cold sweat.
The sounds of the house didn’t ease him in the slightest. It was an old house but it was affordable and that was what had mattered at the time they had moved in; Hyukjae and his brother, Donghae, had needed some place to live and fast. It creaked and howled with the wind. Sometimes, it sounded like there were voices, whispering, hissing at Hyukjae, never letting him forget. Even when he was a child, he had been afraid of things that went bump in the night, but now it was different; he wasn’t just afraid of monsters under his bed anymore, these things were real. Often, things were more scary when they were real.
Hyukjae didn’t like the house. Old houses were supposed to be filled with memories, and he didn’t doubt that this one was, but they weren’t his memories. It was his house but definitely not his home; he felt like at any moment, the real owners of the house would come and Hyukjae and his brother would be able to go back to their real home. But did he really want to back there, to those memories, to his memories?
He looked around the kitchen but lately, his appetite had left him. Just the thought of food was enough to make his stomach churn. He felt constantly nauseous nowadays - at work he was always running to the bathroom to vomit, heaving until his ribs felt like they would crack. His boss had looked at him one morning, pale skin, dark circles and lifeless eyes, “are you fit to be here?” He had asked and Hyukjae had nodded so vigorously that he was sure that he could feel his brain hitting the inside of his head. He would rather have been at work, in front of a computer all day than at home. Anywhere was better than home.
Hyukjae went out of the kitchen abruptly, covering his mouth with his sleeve. He couldn’t stand this. There were only two options as he saw it - either he handed himself into the police or they got rid of it as soon as possible! Maybe with it gone, out of the house, it would be out of his mind too? Maybe then he could try and go back to normality, whatever that was.
The house was pretty, all wooden floors and a wooden staircase - oak. There were three bedrooms, a bathroom, a large kitchen-come-dining room, the living room and not forgetting the basement. The exterior was red brick and had pretty flowers growing on vines up the walls; the garden always smelled floral too. It didn’t really seem like a house for two young adults, two brothers, it was more a house for a small family or perhaps an older couple. Wouldn’t an apartment suit two young men more? But as they had discovered before, an apartment was more trouble than expected; neighbours were more nosey and the walls were too thin...
It was the height of summer, on the way home from the office, Hyukjae had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt a little, it felt good to have a soft breeze down his back after a long day in a stuffy room. He walked home, even though the bus route ran the same way as his house. It was calming to hear the world around him, continuing and unaware. When he heard children laughing and shrieking he wished that he could be as innocent as them again, but maybe he had never really been that innocent; the days when he didn’t feel burdened or afraid. He envied children.
The smell made him gag. He’d only smelled something like it once, when he was perhaps nine and his pet hamster died. She had been getting old anyway and one night, he remembered he had gone straight upstairs to feed her after he got home from school to find her lying motionless in cage, blood matted in her white fur, her black eyes motionless in her small head. He had cried and Donghae had comforted him. Donghae had put the hamster in a shoebox to bury in the morning. By morning, the contents of the shoebox smelled so strong that it made Hyukjae’s eyes water all over again; he’d never smelled anything like it, worse than any sort of dirty drain or rotten meat he had ever smelled. They spoke about death having its own smell, about the smell of death being so unique that it’s unforgettable. Donghae had wrinkled his nose but hadn’t complained. He’d dug a small hole at the bottom of the garden for the hamster while Hyukjae watched in floods of tears. The smell stuck in the back of his throat for days. The stench of death seemed to linger around him for days too and he had trouble sleeping. He had hoped he would never have to smell that again.
Hyukjae took the stairs quickly, as if trying to not just distance himself from the smell from downstairs, but the knowledge of what lay beneath the staircase that wasn’t so easily removed from his mind.
He went to the bedroom at the end of the hall to see Donghae because Donghae would know what to do. Donghae always knew what to do.
His hand trembled as he laid his fingers on the door handle. The room was darkened when Hyukjae pushed the door open. He could just make out the silhouette of another person by the window.
“Donghae?” he said quietly into the room, entering and closing the door behind him. Shutting out the smell.
“What is it?” Came a low voice through the darkness.
Hyukjae hadn’t wanted to go to Donghae but this wouldn’t just go away on its own. Donghae was already so angry with him though. He couldn’t see Donghae’s face, but he knew by the tone of the other’s voice that that anger had not subsided.
“The... The smell.” Hyukjae said hoarsely, “it’s... getting stronger.”
Donghae snorted derisively, “of course it is. He’s rotting. It’s summer. Things rot faster in the heat.”
Hyukjae winced at his brother’s harsh words.
“Can’t we... Can’t we get rid of it now?”
Donghae laughed callously. “Sure, Hyukjae, I’ll take one end, you take the other and we’ll dispose of him in broad daylight. Why don’t we ask the neighbours to lend a hand? I have no idea why you don’t have a career as a brain surgeon or rocket scientist yet.”
Hyukjae’s gaze dropped to the floor and he felt his cheeks burn. “I... I’m sorry.”
Donghae heaved a sigh and crossed the room to his brother. They were twins, almost completely identical but Donghae was more muscular, shorter by a touch and slightly stockier, his throat was thicker, he had a mole on his neck. Eunhyuk was skinnier, he had smaller eyes and paler skin, his nose wrinkled when he smiled and he had thinner lips. Once one became acquainted with these small differences, it was easy to tell the twins apart.
Donghae took his brother’s hands in his own. “I know you’re sorry. You don’t have to keep repeating yourself.”
Hyukjae let his head hang forward so he didn’t have to meet his brother’s gaze. “I am sorry. I... I just don’t want you to be angry with me anymore.”
Donghae sighed and squeezed Hyukjae’s hands, “Baby brother, I’m not mad with you, just with what you did. There’s a difference.”
“I’m sorry,” Hyukjae repeated.
Hyukjae couldn’t see it exactly, but he knew that Donghae was smirking. “If you want me to be less angry, you can start by not apologising so much.”
Hyukjae nodded hesitantly and Donghae squeezed his hands again. “Listen, it’s going to be okay. Leave everything to your big brother; I always take care of you, don’t I? I always make everything better, right?” Hyukjae nodded and when he looked up into his twin’s sparkling eyes, the other was smiling as he lent down to gently kiss Hyukjae on the forehead. “Don’t worry, baby. Your big brother will take care of you.”