Dominance

Chapter 10: No Boys Or Goldfish Allowed

Eric continued his task in silence. He didn't utter a single word to Sara, even when she moved herself to the open space lounge room and he followed her.

They sat on opposite ends of the shabby stained sofa. Eric pretended to keep his attention on the file copying of his old portable computer, while Sara stared at the massively girthed box that looked like a television from the 80s. The obnoxious layer of dust that sat on top of it looked like it was from the 80s too.

Sara was discreetly relieved when the twin siblings returned, bare-chested and each holding something to cover their top halves, along with a pair of well-worn sneakers. She was surprised at how different they looked in denim and with wet hair clinging to their faces. Human, but also not really.

They really were thin. Enough so that their ribs were visible under their skin and their collarbones stuck out at sharp angles. Sara had expected a bit more muscle definition to them considering the athletic ability she had thus far witnessed. But it seemed hauling her around and smashing through buildings didn't need an exaggerated muscular physique.

Also, despite all the recent violent confrontations, there didn't appear to be a single scratch on either of the boys.

Sara was fascinated by their hair. It didn't just trail down their back, but the growth of hair stared all the way between their shoulder blades. The roots gradually thickened as they reached their necks, where hair would usually start growing. At least on a human.

Sparkie grinned at his brother as he tugged at the back of his pants, adjusting at the hole which his tail was looped through. The jeans were fairly loose on them, but seemed to be managing to stay above their hips.

Twister met Sparkie's smile with a sour expression which migrated towards Sara's direction.

"What are you staring at?" He snapped.

Sara squinted back at him passive-aggressively. But before she could say anything Norman reappeared from a bedroom in the tiny apartment, his phone pressed to his ear. Sara looked at it with longing. If only she could call her parents. Or Ashlee. Or the police. Or... Anybody, really.

Sparkie went to tug a shirt over his head when Norman threw a towel at him. Sparkie caught it partially in his hand, and partially with his face.

"Dry that wet noggin first." He instructed before picking up a television remote off of the heavily scuffed cabinet and placing it on the arm of the couch closest to Sara.

"Keep the volume on low, okay?" He told her.

Sara pouted at the chunky prehistoric controller as Eric and Norman both disappeared into the kitchen again. If they thought daytime television would keep her occupied, they were sadly mistaken.

She waved the twins over. Sparkie was happy to skip over and sit next to her on the sofa, but Twister just gave Sara a blank look from where he stood and continued to rub a mustard-coloured bath towel against his damp hair.

"Come here," Sara whispered to him through gritted teeth as he continued to ignore her existence.

Twister looked annoyed, but sat on the floor, deliberately snubbing her by having his back leaning on the couch and facing away. Sara edged over to close the gap between them. She snatched the balding towel from his grip and proceeded to scuffle dry his hair. Twister flailed at the unexpected noogie assault.

"I need to get home," Sara whispered firmly while she ignored the little tingles at the end of her fingertips which brushed against Twister's strands of hair.

Neither of the twins said anything. But Twister froze. His back stiffened. Sara noticed the place on his exposed back where Eric had dug out a piece of flesh was also already healed over. Only the slightest bit of pink remained. It was at this moment that she remembered her own injuries, but as she peered down, her once-tattered and sore hands were miraculously fine. Confusion and exasperation arose but she quickly stuffed those feelings away.