Games of the Dead
Let it be known that the dead like to play games. I apologize for starting in the middle of this story, but that is where I am at in this tale. I
have been witness to their game, and now I fear for my safety. My own brothers may take my life for what I have heard.
You see, although my older twin brothers are living, I have come to know of a game between them, one that started in death before they were even born.
Now they battle each other, trying to become the victor. Their game is one of death, and the loser is damned to never again join the living.
How have I become aware of the game? I have overheard them talking late at night in the bedroom next to mine. I have heard them laughing at their
failed attempts to murder each other. Their morbid game seems to be their favorite entertainment.
Perhaps it would be better to tell you what I know from the beginning, or at least their beginning as best as I have been able to learn through the
walls. In a time before my brothers Roman and Gregory were born, they were arguing over which of them had done the greatest feats while living.
Roman felt that he was the strongest, and each of his lives had drastically improved with strength allowing him to play the role of hero. He felt
that his greatest achievement in the mortal world had been to kill the leader of an opposing army by battling through dozens of body guards.
Gregory thought that Roman's strength was laughable when compared to the power of his own mind. Gregory had taught thousands of people during his
time in the mortal world, and his intelligence had unraveled many mysteries of the universe that were normally hidden from mortals. Mere muscles
could never compare to the strength of his knowledge.
And so it came to be that a game was forged between them. The death of the opposing brother would mark the winner of the game, and the loser would be
forced to remain separate from the mortal world for all of eternity. As odd as it may sound to me, or any of us, their game was even approved of by
God, otherwise they could never have even returned.
So began their death game. Unknowingly, even my mother is aware of little parts of their game, as I've heard her talk about how when they were born,
the umbilical cord had been wrapped around Gregory's neck. Had it not been for the extreme care of the doctor, the game would had ended before it had
barely begun. I still hear about how she could swear that she heard Roman laugh just moments after being born. That moment had always made my mother
smile to think about. If she knew that Roman had probably been laughing because of the game, she might think differently.
Over the course of the next sixteen years, there were many attempts by both brothers to murder their sibling. Our family was not aware of the game,
only that there were too many close calls that jeopardized the lives of my bothers. I only know about many of them because I have overheard them
talking about them.
Roman almost died when he was one from smothering to death beneath his pillow, but no one knew it was Gregory that placed it over his head, and then
crawled on top of him so that Roman could not breath. My mother didn't see Gregory roll off of the pillow just a moment before she entered the room
to find Roman beginning to turn blue. She always thought it was just an unfortunate accident.
By the time my brothers were five, there had already been several incidents that required trips to the emergency room. The only one that I remember
vividly was when Gregory had fallen from the bunk beds and nearly broke his neck (we thought he had fallen, but in reality he was pushed by Roman).
After a dozen stitches to his head, Gregory was sent home from the hospital. Mother removed the bunk beds that day, and they weren't allowed in the
Before they had reached their teenage years, there were near fatal bicycle wrecks, Roman had almost drown in the lake, and Gregory walked with a limp
after being hit by a car while walking to school. Again, Roman had pushed him, and my family had been in the dark about the incident. My mother
always thought that my brothers were just clumsy and accident prone, but it was always the game that brought injuries to my brothers.
I don't want to talk to much about their teenage years. It was in these years that I began to witness much of their strange behavior. On more than
one occasion I saw them fighting in a manner that was beyond any brotherly scuffle. Knives usually aren't involved in those.
That pretty much brings us up to recent times. As I've said earlier, much of this has came to my knowledge by overhearing them speaking in the other
room, the rest I've pieced together on my own. The only thing that I've left out is that they now know that I've learned about their game, how I'm
not sure. Just moments ago, I could hear them speaking in the room next to mine, trying to decide what to do with me. They were afraid that if I
spoke to anyone about their game, they would get locked up in the crazy house or something, and it would be hard to continue the game in straight
jackets. The only thing I heard clearly was "Then we just do it". I'm not sure exactly what that meant, but I think I know.
So here I sit, writing this letter to hide amongst my things. If you are reading this, you are now aware that my brothers killed me, and are
continuing the game. Don't trust them. They have murdered at least once now, and have at least one more to kill, that is if no one else gets in
I am not afraid of what is most likely about to come, for my brothers have shown me that there is an afterlife. While you are reading this, I am
somewhere beyond this world, thinking, and beginning to plan my own game...one of revenge on my brothers.
edit on 25-3-2013 by isyeye because: (no reason given)