[WP] A dragon saves a knight from a princess

It’s our only shot, or at least that’s what our parents thought, for us to beat the prophecy. The odds were a million-to-one that he and I were going to kill each other, the moment we turned ten-thousand. Which would be a tragic time to die; it was in our youth. On the final day for the ill portents to become true, we met in space around a planet that was familiar to both of us. Its sun was on the direct path between our home planets, at nearly its center. Our assassin probes had passed that planet, and each other, innumerable times on the way to kill exact copies of their master. Each time, they failed. Fate turned out to be something that could not do anything but lose, in our ten-thousand year relationship. It’s funny, each time that happened, when we nearly killed each other but didn’t, I felt more and more attached to my identical twin brother, in a morbidly curious way. I used to be bothered by the sordid finality of astrology, the one true science left in this filthy universe of religion, but now I quite like that humans have unlocked forethoughts power. We should know what’s ahead of us, I think, because making peace with things is easier if you do it before they occur. In accordance to terms in our agreement, he and I met in a vessel orbiting the planet, which was geosynchronous with surface-to-space capable missile launchers, which we each had delivered to the planet years before. If one of us tried to pull something on the other, a salvo of missiles would explode the vessel, killing us both instantly, and simultaneously fulfilling the prophecy. “It’s too bad we’re not going to see our birthdays,” I first said to him, when we arrived in the vessel via teleportation. “Or should I say, our birthdays.” “Eh,” he said, “I hate my birthday, anyway.” I laughed. “Me too.” The plan was that we were going to sit pleasantly, together in the vessel, while the clock ticked down to our fate. We arrived in the vessel at ten, two hours before midnight. His body was tan, and muscular. He had obviously been working out, or paying for muscle implants. Perhaps he was just vain, or insecure. But I bet that it was because of the prophecy. If, somehow, things did get prophetic on our hands, and we started beating the astrological shit out of each other, I believe he wanted to be more prepared than I was. And he was. I have always maintained a lean, sort of “librarian” look. I don’t like physical stress, especially not pain, and spend most of my time in virtual reality. Besides, I had made a pact with myself that I was not going to touch my brother. He was safe, as far as that way of the prophecy being fulfilled was concerned. The stars are dicks, and I don’t trust them, even if the whole scientific community does. An hour and forty-five minutes were left, until judgement. “Do you think it was the right move?” I asked him, talking about our parents decision to hide all true astrology results from us until we were in our three-hundreds. “Yes.” “Why? Knowing that extra three-hundred years, that could have allowed us to approach this day in a more… loving way.” I glanced at his bulging left bicep, and chest. “It gave us three hundred years of bliss,” he said, relaxing his shoulders, “and we were able to think we weren’t going to kill each other.” “P-scha,” I scoffed. “Bliss? How can you call that bliss? We remain just as resentful and scared of each other now as we were then, and it made us angry at our parents! I think it was a terrible decision!” “Then it would have made no difference,” he said, with a toothy grin. I looked at his teeth. They were diamond encrusted. I never thought of buying that upgrade. It’s too distracting. That’s why I have white, carbon-fiber teeth. With an hour left, I asked him what he did with his life, on the planet he moved to after our parents divorced. “Done pretty well,” he said, “I’m a movie star.” “Yeah,” I said. “I know.” “Which is why I would have liked to film this.” “We talked about that. Your dying, eager fans will just have to imagine what it is like to see two of you sit and talk around a table.” “They’re not dying,” he said, “you are.” That was the first implication of deadly intent, from either of us to the other, in a long time. For the five hundred years leading up to this meeting, we had given up on trying to kill one another. In his mind, the prophecy wouldn’t let us. In mine, I had simply forgiven him, and accepted our fate. “Nothing’s going to happen,” I said, then I said his name. “We are just going to sit here, and talk, and when midnight strikes the regression scrambler will turn off and we will both teleport out of here.” “Fate doesn’t work that way,” he whispered, staring into eyes that were identical to his own. I looked back. He had nictitating membrane grafts, which could at least let him see underwater, and probably through thick smoke. He had prepared for every deadly measure. The chair was uncomfortable, and there was nothing to drink. We had planned it poorly. I wanted to allow for snacks and beverages, but he was afraid that their containers could be used as weapons, or that they could be poisoned. I hadn’t thought of that, and wasn’t at all scared by the suggestion. I had bigger concerns than whether or not he was going to try to kill me. My thoughts unraveled, and I gave on up caring about the future, twenty-minutes before fate was supposed to consume us both. My twin got up and approached me. He took my face in his hands, which were powerful. “Where is your clone?” he said to me, his voice low and sinister. “I don’t have one,” I said. I looked at him blankly. “You are going to suffer greatly,” he said, his hands trembling against my cheeks, “unless you give up his whereabouts. The original!” “Why don’t you tell me where yours is? I don’t have any clones!” He head-butted me. He pulled me off of the chair, and slammed me onto the floor. He spilled hot coffee on me, and burned me with his cigarette. Then he took out handcuffs and locked my arms to the base of the table. He grabbed my legs and lifted them so that my ass was in the air. “Tell me where he is,” he seethed, “or the prophecy will be fulfilled, when I rape you to death!” It was one minute before midnight. The last thing I thought of, right before my identical twin brother raped me to death, was how terrible the concept of birthdays was.

/r/WritingPrompts Thread