Ch4. Sunset Dream

Narrator's POV

Flames erupt as the boiling ball begins to set under the horizon, painting the sky as if it was a canvas, landscaping the scenery with hues of reds, oranges, and yellows.

Wolves howl as a full moon rises. Owls hoot as they nestle onto branches, unintentionally scaring folks who thinks they see floating head of floating pairs of eyes - the hallucination earning trains of screaming as they hurry away from the scary world and enter their safe haven known as home.

As the flames grow in size, so does the crowd as they all huddle around the bon fire in a cooling and chilling night - one that'll be sure to make men piss their pants.

"There's a well known legends pass down generations after generations called a Sunset Dream."

"Is this going to be about princesses and ponies?" A man jokes, earning a few snicker from his companions but not the story teller.

"Get ready to have your mind blown to different pieces. Oh and you might want to hold onto each other."

"Once upon a legend, there lived a family of four - two loving wonderful parents and their two sons - twins in fact.

Day after day, night after night, the father would ask the two twins, "who comes first if not by age?"

Day after day, night after night, the first twin would answer, "my brother, because I always come last." And the other twin would also respond, "my brother, because it's not fair that I go first."

The father would ask the same question every morning and every night. Both twins would respond the exact way, morning and night.

Then one day, while everyone was asleep, one of the twins woke up. With slow steps, he creeps into his parents' bedroom. He gets a hold of a tv wire and murders them both.

He watches them, eyes wide open, lips a big creepy smile, and uses his father's hand cuffs to murder them both.

With bloody hands, he exits their bedroom and walks over to his twin's, leaving a trail of his parent's blood behind.

He picks up a pen and before he ends his brother's life, he says with an evil and wicked grin and voice as evil as the night sky. "This time, this time I come first." "

"Why is it called a Sunset Dream?" Asks a man, who's huddled in the center. "Because that's who they were. Sun and dream. One representing life and the other representing fantasy. Ugly truth and beautiful life. Sunset Dream."

"But you said that we're suppose to hold onto each other. Why if the story wasn't scary?"

"I never said it was going to. All I said was you might want to hold onto each other." Seeing the audience confuse faces, the storyteller smirks and shows a creepy grin.

"Why haven't any of you asked me what happened to the twin after murdering his family?"

"Why? What happened to him?"

"Legends are myth. Fake and made up. But not all of them. Some say that after centuries, that twin never died. Some say his body is buried deep beneath the depths of the oceans, but others say his spirit never did. But I know, and soon you all will too."

Then suddenly, a twig snaps behind the crowd. Everyone screams at the top of their lungs and turn around, but only to be met with their own endings of their stories. And this is the story of a story.

A story that will bring horror and heartbreak and mischief and betrayal.