PAUL WOKE UP TO A SUDDEN SLAM OUTSIDE his windowless bedroom – in the darkened room, he realised his twin had a habit of slamming the fridge door hard, once he took his coke or RedBull cans. Yawning, he looked at the alarm clock near his bed – it was ‘still’ early – but, Peter was ‘already’ leaving for school…

… it reminded him in the other-Perth when Peter was off to school early when he ‘managed’ his PFC brand…

… but these days, in the post-Treeton timeline – Paul couldn’t figure-out Peter – as, he wasn’t predictable in thoughts-and-actions, even though they were identical twins…

The digital clock showed the display of -- 15 minutes to 7…

… he anticipated his mother upstairs, who would come downstairs in her bathrobe for her MORNING-ROUTINE OF -- bringing-in the newspapers-in and putting a pot of coffee, before ‘knocking’ on his door – and she then would go back upstairs to showers for work…

Paul levitated to his wheelchair before he went out to the bathroom – and in next to no-time, he was sitting relaxed on his dunny ceramic-bowl. He then heard his mother coming downstairs – talking – probably on the phone because Peter had left the house…

… from inside the bathroom, he eavesdropped…

“… I can’t take it anymore, yea – all of these ‘cursed’ bills keep piling up at my face and it’s never-ending – just like yesterday’s storm that BROKE THE WINDOW – my insurance would ‘not’ cover that, and now I have to cut corners in my pay-check, to get it fixed on myself…”

‘… ‘who’ is she talking to…?’

He heard the front door open and his mother’s voice ‘faded,’ when she went outside…

… inside, the bathroom, Paul felt totally ‘guilty’ for breaking the window, which left his ‘cash-poor’ mother with extra expenditure burden to her for the month…

… but what worried him most WAS ‘WHO’ WAS his mom on the call with…

‘… is that Principal Tom Harris…?’

He was ‘constipated’ with the thought – if Peter ‘ever’ found out that their school headmaster -- was ‘seeing’ their mother ‘too’ in this post-Treeton realm…

… because ‘that’ did ‘not’ turn out well in the ‘other’ Perth – where the cursed-toxic-emotions of his evil-twin had brought mass-destruction in the Queensland’s Great Barrier Reefs.

Paul ‘heard’ his mother again, in the kitchen -- putting-up a pot of black coffee…

“… I had about it of this ‘cursed’ house – IT’S ABOUT TIME I SOLD IT, even though the property market is ‘not’ doing well…”

… Paul heard’ his mother knocking on his bedroom door – from the bathroom, the cripple-son hollered…

“Mom – I’m up!”

“Oh-good, Poe – you overslept yesterday…”

… his mother said – and nonchalantly continued speaking on her phone with her ‘beau’-- as she ascended the steps to go for her shower.

Paul sat, quiet in his thoughts to anticipate ‘WHAT’ CHAIN OF EVENTS -- that ‘would’ transpire if the WALKERS’ HOUSE WAS SOLD…

… he was all-for his mom’s decision to sell ‘their’ house – as it was ‘rightfully’ hers to begin with…

… but would that sit well with Peter – who also MADE HIS ‘CLAIM’ ON THE HOUSE -- that their late-father had ‘built’ for them?

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THE STREET ROADS WERE STILL DARK, as the one-armed tween peddled his mountain bike to school. His sighted-focus was on the path of bike’s headlights – but his mind was elsewhere…

… Peter was ruminating of the argument he had with his mother yesterday when she threatened TO SELL his father's house…

… and, he ‘brought’ it on his twin-Paul -- who WAS TO BE BLAMED -- for breaking the window…!

‘… what business-of-yours to go out on a school night…? You short-legged horny-root-rat! But you can’t stay away from that blind-honeypot queen-bee, can’t you…?’

He then thought of his ex-Janey – with all his marketing-efforts HAD ‘GONE’ WASTED, just to build ‘their’ Perth’s Famous Couple fame status…

‘… ‘not’ all Virgos are virgins…!!!’

-O-

Peter reached an hour early, before the first school bell. He parked his bike among the over a dozen bikes that had come-in earlier – who were mostly the middle-school students living nearby, who were the early-bird-boys -- who caught their hot worms-of-gossips as ‘catch-up’ before class…

… in topics of ‘what is the latest-news’ in social media.

Then came the batches of students who come by school-and-public busses…

… after that was the peak-minutes where the school front car-park would be bottle-necked in chaos-jam -- of cars which were driven by parents, against cars of senior students, teachers and admin-staff.

He came in early because he came-in late the other day, as he ‘had’ over-slept… it was when he was riding his bike and passing senior students, who had hooted their car horns, laughing and teasing his ‘one-armed’ riding of a bike…

‘…Hahaha, Ride-faster! You-slow assed-Walker, bloody-run-now! You are slower than your twin-Tarzan Paul – I saw him a moment ago, swinging-on tree-to-tree with his wheelchair, hahaha!’

Peter walked towards the 2nd entrance at the west-wing of the school – and he recognized a white-Bentley pulling over. Raymond and Terry Donovan got off, before their hot-shot lawyer father, Michael who always dropped his sons, early to school, and he then went off to work at the high court.

… the Donovan-brothers ‘claimed’ to be twins – but actually, they were ‘not,’ -- as their birth-certificates – stated-so, that Raymond was born 10 months earlier that Terry, in the same year.

Now, Terry had joined his class in the final-term – as a new member of the backbencher – he had been the replacement as ‘new’ class-clown.

“Oii! Wait-up, you-one-armed bandit!”

Peter was ‘reduced’ to be a loner backbencher, since post-Treeton – because his marketing of the Perth’s Famous Couple fame with Janey had ‘not’ transpired in this timeline – thus, Terry Donovan was his cobber in class, for this final school-term.

“Hey Pete, do you know of Jezebel Crowley -- the famous high-socialite celebrity from the UK?”

“No, I don’t – what about her…?” Peter ‘lied’…

… Terry mentioned that he has been ‘following’ her in Instagram – now, the teenager billionaire was into fashion and glamour-modelling – showed some photo-images of the revealing dresses and costumes, the sultry heiress wore…

… Terry’s favourite, was her cosplay costume of MCU’s Black Widow…

… that remembered Peter of Perthland – where Jezebel kicked the shit-out of his able-bodied Peter, with her kickboxing moves to floor him, in the suite-room of the Stamford Hotel.

“… I commented that she was as ‘beautiful’ as Scarlett Johansen – and she ‘replied’ instantly with a red-heart icon – it blew my mind that my ‘dream-girl,’ Jezebel Crowley did-reply to me, here-in Perth with oceans-and-oceans separating us apart…”

“Hey-you dummy, have you ever thought of the possibility if your ‘dream-girl’ is banging some French-prince in his castle – and might have hired a bunch of bloody ‘virtual-assistance’ from curry-munching Gunga-Din of the capital city of Mumbai to do her social media– what if it is a ‘dude,’ and this sex-fiend had ‘given’ you that ‘red-heart’ in response to your comment – soon, that ‘root-rat’ will find your Irish-butt…!!?”

“Gross, you asshole! Why do you have to bloody say a shitty ‘homo’ thing-like to disrupt my pleasant pubescent ‘dream-girl’ daydreaming fantasy? And, by the way, I’m ‘straight’ as a Mathematical ruler… who wishing to get laid’ with beauty before I graduate – and keep on ‘practising’ it, before I fall romantically in love with a ‘similar’ dream-girl in Perth…”

Agitated, Peter scoffed…

‘… go ahead -- and knock yourself out with mediocre 2nd CHOICE DAYDREAMING! But back in Perthland, I ‘did’ the ‘real-deal,’ where I stole your dream-girl ‘under’ your bloody-nose – and I don’t need to get romantic and have to buy any bouquets of bloody roses to woo her like you loser-Terry – it is MY-GIVEN SUPERPOWER in Treeton -- of my ‘alpha’ animal magnetism in my hypnotic Golden-blood that attracted such opportunities ‘WHEREBY’ STEALING your dream-girl, Jezebel from you, like a magic quick slide-of-hand… and, you are left behind dazed and stupor…’

… then Peter thoughts of the ‘negative’ had squashed his self-confidence to the low – when he reflected of his antagonistic twin, Paul…

… who shot him dead in his heart, after blasting Jezebel away into the hotel’s windowpane – of her falling to her ‘death.’

“Hey Pete, do you know that Poe-pee-Poe has a fan page in a Facebook -- created by some-weirdo bogan, and it’s called ‘Tarzan Paul and Jane’ – he now has over a thousand-Likes, so far…”

“Shut up Donovan! Don’t mention that short-legs’ name in my presence – he ‘only’ bloody takes what is ‘mine’ – all my possessions and dreams too – I wish that he was bloody stillborn like that Elvis’ brother!”

“Jesus Christ Peter, why you got to curse him to death for – have you ‘no’ love for him, at all?”

“No, I bloody don’t love him -- all I have IS HATE AND LOATH of his cripple-existence – what I hate most, is breathing the same air with him, under my father’s roof.”

“Whoa, take it easy, mate – HE IS ‘YOUR’ BLOOD…”

“Shut up there, he is ‘not’ my blood – and you don’t-go defend him because you don’t know him, as I do – he’s bloody ‘ruthless, ever since he got his bloody-powers and… cunning too – he’s the mastermind who is behind my mother decision of selling my father’s house which he built for me – by ‘breaking’ the upstairs bedroom window recently…”

“What happened, mate?”

“It’s complicated, but first-things first – hey-Terr, your father is a big-time lawyer, right – can he tell me ‘ways’ that prevent my mother who is about to sell-my-house – if also, if all don’t go-on well, then how can I as a minor SUE HER, and also ways of ‘how-to-get’ my father’s house to be under my rightful name!!?”

Peter had his Plan-B too – which WAS TO ‘BUY’ the Walker House ‘for’ himself…

…he had ‘done’ his background research online and read the obituary of Lord Stamford Crowley who died recently – but he survived by Lord Amadeus, his twin…

… who ‘too’ was suffering… from a rare blood disease.

Coming from Perthland, Peter was sure that the ‘cure’ was his ‘magical’ Golden-blood – that would heal the ailing surviving grand-uncle of Jezebel Crowley…

… but…

… who ‘both’ were separated by oceans-and-oceans apart…

… to get to their attention, he first had to ‘authenticate’ his ‘miracle’ blood which the key –as was the ‘revisit’ of Hiro-and-Taro…

… who should COME OVER ‘AGAIN’ to Perth, and ‘TEST’ HIS BLOOD…

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36 HOURS EARLIER…

ZOOKEEPER HAJJI HAD RELEASED HIS ‘SOUL’ into the black panther – so that it could escape the zoo -- and hunt for its ‘human sacrifice’…

… but the big wild-cat’s ‘noble-kill’ WAS FOILED BY the members of Cursed-trio, when they ‘had’ killed the ‘i-panther-emnyama’…

… Hajji collapsed, and was then, laid helpless in the cot of his hostel – burning with a high fever. Inkawu, his faithful capuchin monkey pets paws were sponging his forehead – as the tiny-chimp looked worried and troubled for the possible demise of its master.

The little monkey screeched in fear when an instant bright VORTEX PORTAL OPENED in the cramped hostel-room. The fleeing monkey’s tail was caught by a demon’s clawed hand…

… the dark bat-winged midget-demon named Popobawa emerged from warbling portal, holding on to the shrieking simian. It bit and tossed the monkey away like it was a rotten apple – but the injured Inkawu survived.

Behind the African-vampire arose the goddess of natural-disaster, BlackStar draped in the hide of an African Black-rhino…

… standing akimbo over, the old-witch spoke…

“Emnyama is dead under your-watch! You have also failed in satisfying the blood-thirst of your Mother when you failed to obtain the human-offering of that Kenyan ‘prince’ – the penalty for your failure is the ‘death’ of your mortal-self!”

“… wait… O’ Mother…”

… the dying Nigerian stalled his death…

“No, your death sentence is upon you, O’ High-priest -- take it as a blessing of Hadesi, that when your human-form dies – now you are among us – in the world of Dark demons-and-spirits…”

“… no… please-Mother… let me die as a Muslim…”

“Bah! What is with you and the other-atheists when into the last seconds in your dying bed -- into your final crossover, but yearn for the Abrahamic belief…?”

“… please, I beg you, Mother… leave me in the feet of my Allah-the-Merciful…”

“NO!!!”

BlackStar gave an order to her minion – the demonic bat-like African vampire sank its fangs into the screaming Hajji’s neck – infecting him with the feral virus of destructive madness…

“Suffer the Curse of the Undead – where you thirst the blood of mortals, and feed only their brains to satisfy your hunger!”

-O-

Hours later, Hajji escaped from the ambulance that was in-between transporting him to the hospital. Violent in rage, he bit the emergency ambulance staff who too was infected by the feral Popobawa disease.

Together with his tiny pet monkey, he went dark -- and hid away from the authorities in the heart of Perth City.

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36 HOURS LATER…

Insp Caroline Walker received public assault cases of people ‘biting’ each other. There were 20 odd-cases that were hospitalized for rabid disease – when she went-over and --was at their bedside to question them…

… half of the victims had reported that it was a Black-man with his ferocious monkey.

By late evening, there was an increase of 60 odd cases reported in various hospitals – and the inspector had the detective department on the case too.