The Devil (BOOK I + II)

0 | "I'm Gonna Fart on Your Face"

Prologue: Eight Years Ago
   "I'm Gonna Fart on Your Face"

"we may not always see eye to eye,
but we can try to see heart to heart,"
— sam levenson

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   "You suck at dodging," I grinned before stretching out my arm in a lazy right hook.

He pushed his head back, but not enough. My fist landed on his cheek, but he quickly tried to kick out his foot in an attempt to distract me from his flying fist.

   I rolled my eyes and avoided both hits before widening my stance a few feet from my brother, wearing a teasing smile. "Come on, Ruben. You gotta work quicker than that. Papa is gonna judge you."

   "Mama won't," he retorted, but didn't hide his frown.

   "Yeah, because she's nicer than papa," I snorted and crossed my arms before curling my toes. I wasn't wearing shoes or socks, so they ended up brushing against the black mats.

   They were black so blood wasn't noticeable.

   "I don't care." He stuck out his tongue while I smirked before bringing my arms up again. He noticed and got into position with a glare. "Don't hit my face."

   "Don't put your face in the way of my fist," I shrugged before throwing a jab.

   My thirteen-year-old twin brother only pouted, trying to avoid all my hits. But after a while we started to laugh every time he'd trip over his feet on the mats.

   He looked just like me—obviously. But while my wavy blonde hair was up in a ponytail, his was styled in a quiff, where his sides were shaved, but the top of his hair curled upward.

   Every time I tried to flatten it, he'd slap me. Then I'd punch him, and we'd start fighting.

   We had the same eyes, but his lips were thinner than mine. And I had more hair, much to his anger with that. But it wasn't like I asked to be the hairier twin.

   I also had an extra two inches on him—which I personally liked. Besides our seven-year-old brother, Lev, that meant Ruben was the smallest out of our siblings. And he was such a baby about it.

   "Try to get me," I joked, wiggling my eyebrows when I evaded another one of his attempts to kick me. "I dare you, little brother."

   I grinned, but had to hold back a loud chortle, imagining steam blowing out of his ears and nose like how I saw in those American cartoons.

   "You are only two minutes older!" He shouted in Russian before angrily throwing out a weighted punch, which I easily jumped away from before kicking his calve and punching his ribs simultaneously.

   I spun away and tsked once I was a few feet away, shaking my head in feign disappointment. "Never use your emotions when you fight, Benny. It's messy and shows your weakness."

   He straightened in his spot, still glaring, but his eyes drifted to the floor between us, knowing I was right. If papa or he found out he did that, there would be consequences.

   "Take a stance!" A voice bellowed in the training centre, and without having to glance at the wide door frame and the two solid black sliding doors on my right, my arms moved to a ninety-degree angle.

   I finished parting my legs in a slight bend when Ruben finally jumped into action, doing the same across from me three seconds later.

   Every second counted.