The Twins - 2 (The Shed - 3)

One of these things is not like the other,
Born simultaneous, but not the same;
Monstrous, these siblings -- a sister and brother
Of Collingsworth bloodline (and 'Collins' last name),
Protected somewhat from the curse of the gypsy
Though each one affected in his or her way;
She prowls as a beast with a passion for whiskey,
He hides from the hunt, and the sharp light of day.

 Holed up in a church (right beneath the tall steeple)
The brother (called Peter)'s been shot in the head --
He doesn't take pleasure in sucking on people,
(And secretly wishes to rest with the dead);
But Wendy (the sister) is somewhat distracted,
Chained in the dark, her movement impaired;
Remember the moron who trapped him a beauty
Rigged her up good, thinking she'd be too scared

To holler or fuss, and would offer submission --
She'd be all his to abuse and to rape --
But he overestimated his position,
And when the door opened, she made her escape.
His shotgun let loose and spit fire from its barrel
Not a bad marksman, though Wendy was faster --
He thought she'd be smaller, a little less feral;
Not four hundred pounds of pissed off black panther...

 The fight takes three seconds, and then it's all over
And though he's a mess, she's kept him alive
But hardly an act of compassion -- moreover,
It isn't for her sake he needs to survive.
"Believe me, my friend -- I'm aching to kill you
And leave your dead carcass face down in the mud,
But I love my brother (god help me, I still do);
For him to get better, he needs all your blood."

 Of course there's the screaming (a mild irritation
She fixes with duct tape to cover his lips),
Then binds him in place, near to cut circulation,
Killing the roll in long, furious strips --
Her one act of mercy, before their departure:
She claws out his eyes so he won't have to see
His own slow demise -- though he will feel the torture
(We'll leave that unwritten, but count as "Shed Three").

 ----

-- © Jackson Cambridge, 2016.