𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘺.

A sudden storm turned the neglected streets into a blur as Albion surveyed his surroundings. From the shadows, he watched his fellow damned pitifully scramble away in search of any kind of shelter to shield them from the boiling rain. Realizing that it was only getting worse, he soon decided it was time to head back to the desolate building he called home.

After determining the best path and mustering up enough courage, he ran. He kept close to the store awnings and ignored any rain hitting his skin.

𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘳!

𝘈𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦!

Every few minutes, Albion would accidentally step in a puddle and let out a curse. In spite of the pain, he was mostly concerned about hiding the burns on his ashen skin.

“Ugh, this whole no-healing thing really sucks! At least I managed to keep my corpus in decent condition.”

A thunderclap brought Albion back to the present. He looked around and realized he almost took a wrong turn.

There was a dilapidated warehouse, a seedy-looking bar, and a gaudy pawn shop.

The buildings appeared to be uninhibited.

“I don't even see any hounds.”

He didn't relax yet though, as in the Inbetween the slightest noise should be cause for alarm. Especially since he lived in what was pretty much a ghost town, not that he minded it.

“I don't know why Caligos hates it so much.”

The two of them never seemed to agree on the matter. Albion had always argued that sleep was as essential as it was dangerous. They were fortunate to find somewhere that was both sheltered, hidden and with access to an escape route.

Even then you never got more than a few hours at a time. That was unless you were near the very top.

“Enjoying your stroll?”

A guilty smile spread across Albion's face as he turned to the familiar voice. There he was: his brother, his best friend, co-conspirator, and better half.

Caligos stood in the middle of the street, holding a makeshift umbrella in his hand with a slight frown.

“Of course! The weather is lovely.”

Caligos rolled his eyes.

“Oh, well then, I would hate to ruin your fun so take your time.”

He turned around and calmly walked away. It was as if he really did plan on leave him here.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤... Albion left cover and ran into the rain. Before a drop fell on him, his brother instantly spun around.

He clearly wanted to scold him but only shook his head. Caligos quickly dragged him into a small abandoned factory that was covered in graffiti.

“Ah, home sweet home! It's also kind of warm thanks to the rain.”

The factory was illuminated by a few scattered lanterns. His brother had always refused to furnish the dingy room, so it had a noticeable gloomy atmosphere. The wall had layers of paint, wallpaper, and more paint, all slowly peeling away.

Albion ignored that point and stepped further inside. The factory was mostly empty, due to its former inhabitants having taken most of the furnishings with them.

Despite their efforts to make it more home-like, there wasn't much to work with.

In the end, their decorating efforts had long since come to an end.

A blood-soaked rug lay in the middle of the room. It has been put there to disguise a large hole in the floor.

He effortlessly stepped around it and crossed the room towards a single green sofa. This was accompanied by the creaking of the floorboards which added to the atmosphere.

There were a few tears and poking out springs which kind of hurt but he still liked it. The only alternative was a stylish but uncomfortable rocking chair.

𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺... Albion groaned and lazily flopped down onto the dirty couch, feeling the cool material smooth his lingering burns. A low creek caught his attention, and he watched his brother secure the door.

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“Ugh, those damn zealots,” Caligos grumbled, slumping down in his rocking chair. He let out a long sigh while massaging his shoulders.

Concerned, Albion instantly sat up and scrutinized his brother.

Caligos wore a plain black shirt and an oversized trench coat. This was in stark contrast to his thin, handsome face. His long white hair, now turned grey, matched his eyes.

𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴!

This was because they truly were opposites. Albion himself had short black hair and yellowish gold eyes.

The only evidence that they were siblings was a strong fraternal bond and their resemblance.

It wasn't much but it was enough for them both.

“Hey Cal?”

His brother stopped rocking and shifted his gaze away from the now barracaded door.

“Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

“Isn't this a new record, I think it's been a year? Yeah, one whole year!”

Albion had been keeping track and realized that this was the longest they had survived. It hadn't been that long ago that the two of them had been fresh meat.

“Ah, you're right. But that doesn't mean we won't go back to being hunted. So don't get too excited.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Albion murmured, letting out a long sigh.

Caligos stood up and walked over to a broken window, ignoring the eerie screams carried by the wind.

“The screaming is extra loud today, isn't it?”

“It's fine. Must be a new batch.”

Albion shrugged and sat up as his brother approached. Caligos handed him a tin cup full of water he had collected in a bowl.

“Thank you.”

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬? 𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬! If Albion believed in a god, he'd swear he hated humanity. Otherwise, why would he design a place so that required you to do such pointless things?

His brother, competent but very reckless, was the only thing that kept him from giving up and going crazy.

“Hey, are you alright? You haven't drunk anything yet.”

“I'm fine! Just lost in thought.”

At that moment, as he took a large mouthful, memories of their time in this place resurfaced.

The two brothers found themselves in the territory of a Prince. They were on the very edge of the dark Empire of Abraxas, ruled by a man known as the Archemperor. Nevertheless, this made up only a small percentage of the Inbetween, more commonly known as Purgatory.

Their memories were incomplete, but they could vaguely recall dying in an accident. However, that didn't seem to matter much, as they discovered that this place didn't follow the same rules as the mortal world.

This was after their first "death".

After resurrecting, they discovered the batch they were in was originally destined to be sent to a perdition farm.

Instead, they were let go and left to fend for themselves, an apparent small mercy. As time slowly went on however, it quickly became clear that he had been wrong. This was when they had found another group, and were all brutally cannibalized.

Both had naturally died once again; Caligos choosing to rather die so they wouldn't get separated. After that, they didn't waste time moping around and simply ran for hours until they finally collapsed.

That was when they met Gerard, a fellow damned soul. He showed them the abandoned industrial district, but they knew he did not do this out of the goodness of his heart. The two were now indebted to him, they were at his beck and call if he needed a favour.

In reality, they had an eternity to repay him, so it was a matter of when rather than if they would. This was the immutable rule that governed the Inbetween; the strong take from the weak.

Grrr!

𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥? Albion's mind raced as he set down the can. He turned to see Caligos already at the door, armed with a club. Opening it cautiously, they found a man clothed in sagging skin, on all fours.

However, it was the item in his mouth that caught their attention—a small brown letter!

Caligos managed to retrieve the letter from the hound’s broken and jagged teeth, shooing the creature away.

Trrrt! As Albion anxiously looked on, his brother opened the letter and began reading.

𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺?

Albion failed to suppress the dread he was feeling, knowing that their home was meant to be a secret. The fact that someone had sent a letter to them didn't bode well.

He could only wait and swallow dryly, despite having just drunk some water.

It took Caligos only a few seconds to finish reading the letter.

His brother slowly trudged back into his chair, clearly upset. Albion said nothing and silently approached him.

Caligos sat simply sat down for a few seconds. Then, he finally showed him the letter's contents; it only had five words and a crude, bloody drawing.

𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳... 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴?

Albion could only grit his teeth.

As he lamented the situation, a gentle tap snapped him out of it. He saw his brother gesture to a small supervisor’s office which they had repurposed as a bedroom. They would need to get a lot of rest, especially since they would be traveling.

“Come on, it's time for bed. Eldest's orders,” Caligos didn't wait for him to respond before guiding Albion up a few stairs.

In the room, a small pile of clothes, pillows, and a single mattress made up their bed.

He lept onto the nest and hogged most of the sheets.

𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺?”

Albion guessed as he smelled the sheets before turning to his brother.

At the same time, Caligos checked the doors lock and their hidden exit in the corner. However, Albion knew he would rather fight than run.

𝘏𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘣!

Albion shook his head, and with a yawn, said, “What do you think Gerard will want? It can't be that bad, right?”

There was no response, and for a second he thought his brother was already asleep.

Then there came one:

“Hey, I'll handle whatever the old bastard wants, okay? But I want you to run if things get too dangerous.”

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵?!

Albion truly couldn't understand his brother's request. They had both agreed to the deal, so it only seemed fair for him to help. Besides, it wasn't as if he would die permanently.

“Why do you get to decide? You're only older by—”

Thwack!

A pillow collided with Albion's face, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“Shut up and just promise me, okay?”

𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦.

“Albion...”

“Fine. I promise if things get bad I'll run away and probably leave you to die a gruesome, horrible death.”

“Thank you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Although Albion had more to say, exhaustion overtook him. However, in his drowsy state, he silently vowed to never leave his brother. Regardless of what was asked of him—even if it meant killing an innocent person.

With that thought, he drifted to sleep.

As ominous wails could be heard from outside, two brothers slept soundly in the darkness.