1 Chapter One
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared." A statement that frequently travels through his subconscious, waiting to harass him. A truth that never failed to keep itself hidden, even when it needed nothing more than to be spoken.
Waylen stood in front of his twin sister, distress making itself known only by the tears pooling in his almond-colored eyes. A stinging sensation, desperately tempting them to fall. Yet not one managed to drip down his flushed cheeks. The sense of crisis took hold, silently spreading like a toxic mold, eventually killing the host.
Tears dripped down his sister's cheeks, as her body began to tremble. All he could do is watch, like some spectator to his own life. His heart thrashed within its cage, as the waves of guilt threatened to tear him apart from the inside out.
"It's alright Chess," he lies through his teeth, only managing to make them both feel worse.
It was always going to be this way. Waylen has always known his family was different from the society surrounding them. Though the exact reason for this evaded him. He's always felt disconnected from everything around him, apart from Chess. It's as if a barrier has been built between the twins and the reality around them. Chess is the only thing that's ever-made sense. Now, in his world, she'd be gone. Yet he can't bring himself to face the truth, let alone say it outright. For all it would bring about is guilt.
Their parents scream from within the kitchen, voices growing louder until every word is deafening. A woman waves a wooden kitchen spoon like a weapon. While her husband grasps the morning news in his tightening fist, crinkling the small print between his fingers.
Until this morning, everything had been normal. The twins went to school, and came home to a peaceful atmosphere, the calm before the storm. Not a word of separating the two siblings had ever been spoken. Until an old man in a fancy black car appeared at their doorstep.
Even if it had been presented with some notice, the result wouldn't change. Waylen could never toss his sister into some unfamiliar environment alone. At least this barrier the twins are somewhat familiar with.
Chess wrapped her arms around her brother, embracing him tightly. The liquid pooling from her face proceeded to dampen his sweatshirt. An interaction that lasted through the annoying arguing, using up all the time before the unwanted departure.
Nearly eighteen years they've lived with one another. Yet days before their birthday, someone suddenly wants to rip them apart. As if the whole thing had been deliberately orchestrated, and we're just following in sequential order. This is the start to a bad end.
"What if we run away?" Chess desperately offers quietly, so the adults wouldn't hear.
"Chess, we're underage. The police will just bring us back." The police would cater to the parent's every whim. They probably wouldn't even last a week and complicate the messy situation. The last thing he needed is Chess to have a hard life.
Waylen forced himself out the door with nothing more than a cellphone and charger. His eyes flicker around the quiet neighborhood, trying to solidify tonight's image.
In the driveway, a black car waited with its engine running. Its tinted windows making it impossible to see inside.
His fingers slowly hook around the door handle, hesitating to pull it open. The handle felt strangely warm and inviting like a predator seducing it's prey. Not to mention the faint energy it emitted. Anything could be behind this door, but he has to pull it.
Only when it opened did the tears fall. In the car he stepped, burying his head in his hands.
No clue regarding the destination or who he's even with. It didn't matter since he is now completely alone. Never again will he have the chance to tell her his concerns. He is completely afraid. `
An old man sat in the driver's seat. He looks clean and orderly, like a butler of a prestigious family. His gray hair is cut somewhat short and has a full mustache. Over his wrinkly gray eyes is a golden monocle with a corresponding chain resting on his left ear. His breathing is calm, and his eyes remain focused. If it weren't for the slight nod of the head, it would have seemed as if he hadn't acknowledged the presence of the other party.
Waylen's eyes remained fixed on the outside as the old man began to leave. Chess stood on the porch steps crying, before breaking out into a run. At least he could watch her a little longer.
The air in the car is warm, producing a drowsy atmosphere. It somehow felt familiar, like he had ridden in this car dozens of times. It didn't take long for Waylen to give in to the effects of the sleepiness, maybe around five minutes or so. Resting his head on the tinted window, his breathing finally enters a steady rhythm.
The old man's lips bend upward slightly, before proceeding to hum a little tune. "Oh what an interesting start." He thinks to himself.
The car passed through two cities and had been driving in the countryside for hours before Waylen awoke. Outside there is nothing but lush green grass and a gray sky, eagerly waiting to empty its contents.
Waylen didn't know long he slept, but his tears already vanished leaving only slight puffiness. However, Chess never left his mind, even now he pictured the two of them reading alone in the grass.
Inside his pockets, his cellphone vibrated, most likely messages from Chess. Waylen can't bring himself to look. Or even focus for that matter.
At least a day and a half has gone by, but he still felt as if he was just in the driveway, hugging out his goodbyes.
Maybe Chess remembered how their family is different and he couldn't bring himself to ask. They share all of the same experiences down to birth. So if it was ever mentioned she'd probably know.
For the first time, Waylen studies the driver. His almond-colored eyes staring intently, soaking up every little detail. A mannerism that never changed.
Under the teenager's observation, the old man once again starts to hum with a faint light in his gaze.
"That song, who wrote it?" Waylen asks out of curiosity. For the first time willingly speaking to an outsider without reason.
"How do you know it's a song?" The butler responds teasingly, watching how the boy would react.
Waylen thought about it for a minute. He knew it's a song, just not how. "Because I've heard it before." He finally responds.
"W.S." The butler honestly tells him, stirring up more of Waylen's curiosity in the soup of chaos.
In no book has Waylen read contain the name W.S. Which is saying something because both twins had a passion for literature and music. However even the name W.S. seems oddly familiar, adding another layer of confusion. Things are no longer adding up.
Waylen's eyes began to flicker between the window and the old man, like he was debating whether or not to ask another question. Using the window of curiosity, the old man took it as a chance to properly introduce himself to the teenager.
"My name is Jonathan Riggs, one of the primary caretakers of the Estate, which is where we are heading."
"Who's estate?" Waylen asks, unsettled by just the word estate. The place must have some other name.
"The Estate." The old man quickly repeats, before leaving Waylen to dwell.
Off in the distance you could see the first buildings in hours. That is the Estate. Though it has plenty of other names, hardly any are desirable to the ear.
Waylen watches out the tinted windows, fixated on the group of buildings up ahead. Something told him, he'd be better off trying his luck with the cops.
