Riveting

• Connor Laidlaw, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2020

The agonising wail echoed through the city of Palamen. Then there was silence. Deadly silence.
Wazaminat was dead.
Zerifim sat up in bed, sweat dripping of his forehead, blood pumping in his veins.
This nightmare was the worst one yet. His father; dead by the slit of a Riveter’s knife. Zerifim leapt out of bed and shook his twin, Hæmato, out of a deep slumber. As quick as a bullet, Hæmato locked a bloody hand to his knife, and held it under Zerifim’s throat. Hæmato slowly slid away the knife and the two twins looked at each other in the eyes, and realised the truth.
Being identical twins, it was common to have shared dreams. Not all dreams were serious, but for once, it was.
Crying, Zerifim lumbered out with his brother into the town square. Blood was running through the pavement ground. Leading to the mass of bleeding flesh. The body of Wazaminat. Flushed, Zerifim ran over to Hæmato, who was standing next to the Gramanthin Canyon.
“He’s gone, he’s gone, oh god, please no!” cried Zerifim, tears gushed from his red, puffy eyes like a waterfall.
His head started to spin until he fell, a sharp pain searing through his back, blood soaking through his shirt like a wet sponge.
Wait.
Zerifim looked up and choked, feeling his heart rise to his chest.
Hæmato.
Reality dawned on Zerifim like a giant shadow engulfing the last fragment of light.
Hæmato’s distressed and demon-like face leered over the pathetic silhouette of Zerifim. Zerifim gasped. The knife glistened in the evil moonlight.
“I’m sorry, brother,” Hæmato whispered, “but I killed our father.”
Suddenly, Zerifim’s vision blurred. It was right under his nose the whole time; Hæmato’s knife next to his bed, his blood-covered hands and how he never came back from the market.
His brother was murdering people while Zerifim was sleeping in his bed, dreaming about it.
“Oh god,” Zerifim moaned, “oh god!”
Hæmato lifted the knife up to his chest and howled, an ear-piercing, demented howl that came to a stop as Hæmato’s eyes went milky white.
“Go to The Midnight…”
The destructive knife slammed into Hæmato’s gut, taking one more final victim. Before Zerifim could grab him, Hæmato slipped backwards into the Gramanthin Canyon, the ultimate death trap.
Tears brimmed in Zerifim’s eyes. All hope was lost; his father and now his twin, his evil twin. How could it have been Hæmato, the one person on the planet, Vulkansine, he could trust. But he was a traitor. “Why am I such an imbecilic twit?” he yelled. “It was right between my eyes the whole time!”
Then he thought of the final words that his impostor of a brother forced out of his mouth.
Adrenaline bubbled inside Zerifim’s veins. He knew exactly what Hæmato was saying. The thing was, no one threw around these words loosely. These people were the ones not to be messed with.
The Midnight Renegades.