The Wild Ones - Part 3 - The Sirens

1.

The fire danced and crackled as the wind passed through it. Slowly, the fair white skin darkened, burned, becoming a golden brown within a matter of seconds. The intensity of the heat caused it to ooze slightly, the thick liquid dropping to the forest floor.

"I called dibs on the first marshmallow," Tom said, shovelling a handful of crisps into his mouth as he did so.

Lily looked up from her careful roasting of said item, "You called dibs when we bought them a week ago. I'm not sure dibs last that long."

"Na, they're timeless. I could call dibs on your grandchild, right here, right now, and there's nothing you could do about it. No law is above dibs," Tom declared, crisp crumbs flying from his mouth.

"As much as I hate to, I gotta side with Tom," Max said, moving closer to warm his hands by the fire, "We all heard him, so it must count for something. Where do you stand Becky?"

Max had realised the last thing Becky had said was about two hours ago on the drive here. In fact, she'd barely spoken two words all week. To be fair, he thought, this was their first week camping out together. There were still going to be issues and reservations as they got to know each other better. But something still seemed off.

"Just give Tom the bloody marshmallow," she said after a moment, as if annoyed by a bunch of toddlers.

Max noted the scowl Lily threw at Becky, who swiftly sighed in response. Part of him had assumed that eventually, somehow, the two of them would get along. But apparently not now.

"You guys hear that?" Tom asked, as he sat back down with his now blackened treat.

Everyone looked around in response.

"Looks like there are some other campers over there," Lily commented, pointing to a tent lit by a dim fire not too far away.

Tom looked over and instantly spotted who the other campers were.

"Oh, well, I think me and my dear brother should go give them a warm welcome," he said with a grin, standing up swiftly.

"They're girls, aren't they?" Becky sighed.

"I can't even be bothered to defend myself; yeah, they're girls," Tom walked over to his brother and pulled him up by the hood. "C'mon. I need backup. And by backup, I mean someone to make me look comparatively attractive."

Max groaned but eventually conceded, standing and dragging his heels behind Tom, as the two set off for the other campsite.

The girls, meanwhile, sat in silence. What little they did say was conveyed through gritted teeth and glares.

Tom and Max stood awkwardly outside the other tent, unsure of how to 'knock'. Eventually, the girls inside noticed their presence and stuck their heads out of the front.

Both boys were immediately met with the sheer beauty of the women. They were barely older than them, though their looks seemed timeless. Perfectly sculpted faces, with thick, chestnut hair falling down to their shoulders. They appeared to be twins, perhaps identical even, save for one having a slightly rounder face than the other. Tom assumed they were foreign, if only because he surmised no one this good looking lived in this country.

"Hi, um, we were just over there and, uh, we saw you here, and saw, um...sorry, I'm Tom, this is my brother Max," Tom said, with sporadic hand gestures.

"Brothers?" one of the girls said to the other. They both giggled.

"Is that an accent I can detect?" Tom asked, his mannerisms becoming as suave as he could manage.

"We're from southern Australia," the girl with the round face said, "Did you wanna come in?"

Tom looked at Max who tried to non-visibly shake his head.

"Got nothing better to do," Tom replied, and bounded into the tent. Max clenched his fist and followed.

Inside, the tent was filled with aboriginal decorations. Masks and photographs hung from the sides; there was even what looked like an authentic cave painting on a slab of stone in the corner. Everyone squeezed in and sat awkwardly around the girls' sleeping bags.

"Wow. Is this all your stuff?" Max said, looking around.

"Yeah we've always been fascinated by the aboriginal heritage. That's why we came here; we heard the museum in Eastbrooke had some stuff in," the girl with the longer face replied.

"So do you girls like...marshmallows," Tom asked, leaning in.

The girls laughed, "Yeah. We've got some drinks if you fancy a bit of a party," one said.

"Hold that thought," Tom pointed his finger at both of them and got up. He tapped Max on the shoulder, "Look after them."

Max groaned once more as he watched his brother dash out of the tent.

"Hey, Max, can we show you something?" round-faced girl asked.

"Uh, sure," Max replied tentatively.

"OK. Close your eyes first," she said with a smile.

Tom, marshmallows in hand, jogged back to the girls' tent. As he reached their fire he was met with the deathly scream of his brother.

"Max?"

Tom dropped the bag and ripped down the zip at the front of the tent. His brother lay on the floor, blood gushing from two puncture wounds in his neck, as the calm smiles of the two girls hovered over him. One of them wiped some blood that was running down her mouth, and exposed two, long fangs.

"Wanna go next?" she asked.