[Hello, thanks joining us! Listen up, listen close! Play the media on both chapters; enjoy the writing; and let me know your reactions at the end!]

It was unclear who struck first. But once they clashed - fireworks flew.

No really - they did. Earsplitting ones, followed by distant cheers and the echo of (suspiciously Cyen-ish) hurrahs.

It began.

Wish-whoosh! Smirky swung his scythe's blade in a keen stroke, catching Smiley unawares by his formidable speed.

Even so, the not-so-good doctor used acute reflex to evade the blitz of obsidian metal. He leapt out of its path, backing away fast.

The illusionist made a swift recovery from his missed blow - with a swerve of the handle, he executed a linear swipe towards his brother's heart.

Smiley's fancy footwork could only carry him back so far.

The blade's sheer tip fleeted over his chest. 

An crescent of blood spurted skyward.

He tripped, gasping in pain. A moment later, he scrambled to sit - and gingerly ran a finger just below the burning wound.

Bleeding, yes. Deep, no.

Smiley aimed a kick at the floor, body in a twist, to heave himself back to his feet. Once he was up, his heartbeat hammered.

Because his brother was nowhere to be seen.

"Don't take your eyes off me!~" Smirky warned in glee.

Muttering incomprehensibly under his breath, Smiley nonchalantly span on heel.

And then he moved like a whip of lightning.

It all happened so fast.

A sidestep; the scythe crashed past, tore right through rough stone, sending fiery sparks and fragments soaring everywhere.

Smirky - perhaps sensing that his move was doomed to fail - let go of the handle mid-swing and used the momentum to make a high pass far above Smiley's head.

He was pelted relentlessly by surging debris; sharp pieces colliding into his arms as he brought them up to shield his face.

The illusionist landed nimbly on his feet.

There was something sinister about the way he lowered his arms and looked at Smiley.
It wasn't only the menacing shadow that shrouded his face.

Neither said a word, neither dared to initiate next move.

More fireworks exploded from close by, shattering through their hostile silence like a bullet to a mirror.

Whizz! Pow! Kaboom! Rrrreow! (That last one was definitely Cyen).

Oh, those minions and their bingo night/middle of the morning. Their bouts of absurdity had perfect comic relief, but unfortunate timing.

(Word count, word count, boosty, boost, boost!)

The corners of Smirky's mouth forced an unreadable smile.

"What a shame."

Smirky shuffled his feet, clasping his hands behind his back. He had this look shining in his eyes - a kind of innocent lustre.

"I can't help thinking... We could've been good friends."

Smiley involuntarily bowed his head in disbelief. "Are you delusional?"

A sigh. No answer.

Bangs of resounding fireworks filled the dungeon.

The twins took an invisible cue to start running at exactly the same time. As a result; they circled around each other.

Smirky reached for his embedded scythe and picked it up on his way, yanking it from its stone prison in a flash of rubble.

Devastating cracks spread over the floor.

This, in turn, forced Smiley to jump over them when he came to pass by the same point.

The not-so-good doctor was starting to grind his teeth; frustration mounting high.

This is a pointless game of cat-and-mouse; he's just WASTING my energy!

A rush of air blew over his back.

Smirky had advanced on him from behind (while he was distracted with a seething thought), scythe raised far over his head

The crafty illusionist jumped, lifting the deadly blade even higher. Wind flooding past his face, he skilfully swept it into a curving arc.

Fwoosh!

Smiley sidestepped, turned fast, the wave of metal glided past him. His eyes narrowed in silent determination. Gotcha!

Time was scarce.

He grabbed the scythe's sleek handle as it passed, and snaked his own hands firmly around Smirky's unyielding hold.

No room for hesitation.

By the way of a dominant pull, he wrenched it away from his twin's cold hands.

In seamless motion, Smiley whirled the stolen weapon in a blur of dark metal.

Crack! He turned it against its previous wielder, striking his head with the blunt of the glinting midnight blade.

His opponent wavered uneasily.

Good.

He stole a moment to cast the scythe aside with all his might, spinning it into the farthest, darkest gloom of the shadowy dungeon.

With that out of the way, Smiley then turned his attention back on Smirky, who was dazed by the hit. No, not just dazed; incapacitated.

Now he remained frozen on the spot, shock written all over his face.

The not-so-good doctor smirked, fleetingly showing off his razor-sharp teeth.

Knowing your opponent's vulnerable points - and medical knowledge of how to hit them hardest - had fascinating advantages.

Stepping forward, slow pace deliberate. He stopped, to study the expression on his twin's face.

"You demanded this from me. Just remember that."

Whether or not the illusionist creepypasta could hear him was entirely up for debate.

But rest assured, he absolutely felt what came next.

Smiley threw a dynamic uppercut, aiming for the jaw.

Smirky's chin cracked upwards from the devastating force. Knocked violently off his feet, gravity towed him backwards.

His back took the blunt of his heavy landing, causing a series of laboured shudders as he dragged his elbows over the rubble-strewn floor.

He pulled himself to a semi-sitting position, one hand palmed firm on the floor for balance while the other was raised a notch, fingers tapping in rhythm.

"Mmmph..." Smirky let his head fall back as far as it would go. The muscles in his neck stretched and flexed taut.

Without any provocation, Smiley drew back a leg and dealt out a sweeping kick, throwing his twin to the side in a splay of blood.

The illusionist landed haphazardly on his stomach, sitting up again within seconds of falling. He stayed on his knees, wiping a trickle of dull red from his mouth.

"After all these years, s-something about you hasn't changed a b-bit." His breathless voice strained to produce tangible words.

The not-so-good doctor curtly nodded for him to go on, while curling his hand into a tight-balled fist. Cue immature giggles.

Smirky gave a dark chuckle, and bowed his head. "You're still a heartless bastard."

...

Thwack!

He flinched (as he pulled himself up to sit once more), tracing the new bruise with his fingertips. "... You love causing pain, don't you?"

In a lingering sense, it seemed almost inevitable that their showdown would end this way.

Smiley took a hesitant step back.

His bloodlust-fuelled adrenaline was crashing.

He didn't notice an illusion slipping past, into the murk of the dungeon to retrieve a lost item. (A thrown item.)

"My existence is a nuisance, isn't it? Because I remind you of how far your depraved hunger for pain really goes. You can't even bring yourself to terms with it."

"Yes, yes... I know what you're referring to. The incident on our birthday, correct? We were both insane - we played cruel tricks and I took mine too far. Simple as that."

He sounded calm. He wasn't.

Smirky uncharacteristically clenched a fistful of his own hair, white-knuckled. He bared some teeth too.

"HOw dArE- You gave me a razorblade-filled box of chocolates and watched me cut my tongue open! And then you hid the rest and claimed that I'd tried to kiss the cat!"

Smiley sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, unable to sum up any decent counter arguments beyond: "I was substantially high on peanuts."

We interrupt this 'dramatic' moment to bring you a brief interlude of comical relief; courtesy of Zalgo's goons.

Two jolly-faced minions trudged through a backdoor that was ingeniously concealed behind an unremarkable section of wall.

They froze when they saw the scene in front of them - a half-wrecked dungeon, blood splattered here and here - two brothers in the heat of their confrontation.

The minions proceeded to slowly nopewalk back into their secret passage.

The rings of black around Smirky's eyes flared; swallowing half of his irises. And with the sudden expansion came a sudden boost of strength.

He stood up, swaying on his feet momentarily. "What about everything that happened afterwards? Was that the peanuts too?"

Smiley's heart leapt to his throat as he took another step back, registering a (bad) dramatic shift in his twin's tone.

The atmosphere was positively foreboding.

His eyes darted off to the side, while his quick tounge desperately tried to work out a way to defuse the situation.

"Smirky - what happened after that? Oh Zalgo. You've been hellbent on murdering me because you think I-"

"YES! DON'T PLAY DUMB; YOU KNEW ALL ALONG!"

"It wasn't real!"

Another step forward.

"Liar!"

Another step back.

"Please - hear me out! You went crazy with the thought that I was trying to kill you! The doctors agreed that it led to a nervous breakdown-"

"Grrrr..."

"-Which caused you to run away from home and suffer vivid hallucinations about me! You likely fainted, and your disturbed state carried on through a dream."

Smirky gained a sudden tic in his neck. It only lasted for a few seconds, but the violent twitching was pretty freaky.

"V-Viv- Vivid hallu-ci-nations?"

Smiley tugged at the collar of his coat in a vain attempt to cool his clammy skin. He faked a smile, trying to sound sincere.

"You know I would never- not to my own brother." He gave a rattled laugh. "I mean, come on! We were barely teens! I didn't even have a start on my medical degree!"

Tap. Tap. Tap. The illusion was returning undetected; hauling the dented scythe close behind. Guess it took awhile to find in the dark.

"You're a natural-born creepypasta, with the signature of being a doctor. Your surgical abilities come by nature." Smirky cracked his head from side to side.

The not-so-good doctor shut his eyes and tensely cocked his own head to one side, laughing weakly.

If Smiley had been hooked to a vitals monitor, it would've revealed that his heart rate was spiking.

"You didn't have a mark on you, not a single cut. How come? Magic thread? And what else did you say? Left to be eaten alive by venomous spiders? Hallucinations. All of it."

An unreadable expression crossed over Smirky's face.

"That's funny; I never mentioned the spider part to anyone. So... How did you know about them?" He inquired, blinking innocently.

Guilty.

Smiley's eyes snapped wide open; full scarlet orbs, emphasised by shrunken pupils.

He'd just screwed up big time.

Big. Time.

His bottle of secrets had shattered.

The illusion handed its cargo to Smirky. Then it flickered out, just like a blown candle.

Smirky hummed softly under his breath as he weighed the scythe in his hands, choosing the best way to hold it.

Leaving no chance of the weapon being torn away from him a second time.

"All's fair in betrayal and vengeance, my dear brother."

The not-so-good doctor felt his legs stiffen, as if they were turning to stone. Couldn't run. Couldn't dodge.

Throat dry. Heart skipping beats. Everything was spiralling out of control. Guilty.

"And that's why..."

He'd run out of things to say, of lies to tell and places to hide. A rabbit caught in the headlights. Guilty.

"I'm not sorry..."

What were you supposed do, when your life was about to be cut? When all the cards fell, and you held the loosing deck? Guilty.

"About this!"

Hit with a tidal wave of weakness, Smiley dropped helplessly to his knees. He shielded his face, blinding his eyes with the white of his sleeve. G U I L T Y.

And then he screamed. Screamed two simple words for dear life, with every ounce of air in his strangled lungs, and every shred of guilt in his macabre soul.