Research notes of Dr. P. Allensen
Date: June 23, 1971
Time: 4:00 pm

My patience has paid off. After following Subject for the past three weeks, I have memorized his daily routine. On Thursdays, he spends his time at a local library, while his Twin is in boxing practice. I have looked up more information on my Subject via local newspapers. He has won numerous science awards, and appears to have a genius level IQ. Perhaps after my research is completed, I can convince him to carry on my work? Again, I seem to be getting ahead of myself. Today, I will finally acquire my perfect Subject. I have sent my "assistant" (and I use that title loosely), ahead to prepare. I have everything in place. At last, I am ready to begin.

Ford sat on the steps outside the library, open book in his lap, waiting for Stan to be finished with boxing practice. He had said something about stopping for milkshakes at the diner before heading home, which in Stan's language meant 'flirt with the cute new waitress'. He smiled to himself at the thought of Stan's dreadful 'flirting', but reminded himself that he wouldn't be able to do much better.

He sighed and was about the return his attention to the book in his lap, when he heard what sounded like soft sobbing to his right. He looked over the railing to see a little girl sitting on the sidewalk, leaning against the side of the building. She didn't look much older then twelve, with long brown hair. Her amber colored eyes were wide, and filled with soft tears as she cried.

"Hey," he said gently, hoping to get her attention. "Are you alright?"

She sniffled. "No. My brother and I got separated, and I can't find him! We were supposed to stay together. My dad's gonna be so mad."

He put the book in his warn leather satchel, and stood up. "I'll help you look for him. Where's the last place you saw him?"

She excitedly jumped to her feet, and brushed off the blue dress she was wearing. Ford tried not to stare at the fact that, she also wore what looked, like blue tipped, iridescent, costume butterfly wings. She took his hand and led him into the alley, next to the building. She stopped near the dumpster.

"He was over here, looking at something. I turned around to try to get a cat to come to me, and when I turned back around, he was gone!"

"It's okay. I'm sure we'll find him." He crouched down in front of her, reached into the back pocket of his pants, and pulled out his kerchief. He smiled as he gently wiped her eyes. She seemed a little taken back by his gesture of kindness. He stood up as she sniffled again.

"You're so nice. I just want to say I'm sorry."

Before he could respond, a hand clamped over his mouth. He struggled when he felt the pinch of a needle in his neck. Something quickly flooded his system, and he slumped back against the person holding him.

As he fell unconscious, he saw a little boy, run out from behind the dumpster. and hug the no-longer-crying girl, in an attempt to comfort her. He looked almost exactly like her. Two thoughts entered Ford's head, simultaneously, as his eyelids closed. 'I was tricked.' and 'they're twins…'
He felt himself being dragged through the alleyway, before everything went completely black.

Stan approached the steps of the library, about twenty minutes later. He looked around, and, upon finding the steps to be empty, scowled. He had had an intense feeling of foreboding and dread, since he was at practice. He decided that, even though he was probably being paranoid because of what Ford had said, to cut out on his milkshake-date, and come straight here. Unfortunately practice had ran a little late, so he was still late arriving. His feeling of dread had intensified when he saw the steps abandoned.

He shook his head, as he tried to scare away the meddlesome thoughts that were going places they shouldn't. "He's… probably just inside!" He thought out loud, in an attempt to reassure himself. "...Yeah! That was it. He's probably just waiting inside." After all, Glass Shard Beach seemed to be experiencing it's annual heat wave, and waiting inside the cool of the building, made more sense than sweating outside. Yep. Perfect sense, Stan thought, as he bounded up the steps to the library.

He stepped inside, but instead of his brother, he saw the librarian's assistant, Beth. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Hey, Stan. If you're lookin' for your brother, he left about thirty minutes ago."
"Uhh, thanks." Stan replied.
That couldn't be right, Stan thought as he walked back out. Why would Ford leave without him, or at least, telling him?

He walked back outside and wiped the sweat off his forehead. It served as a reminder of the heat. "That's it!" he exclaimed, feeling like the idiot everyone thought he was.(like he knew he was). "He went on home." Feeling slightly better, he practically jumped off the library steps. Something caught his eye, on the ground next to stairs. Catching the light and almost blinding him. It turned out to be a few weird, iridescent flakes. Scales? If they were snake scales they didn't belong to any snake he knew of from around here. He decided it was probably nothing, and, choosing to ignore the weird, possible snake scales, continued on his walk home. As he passed the alley, something near the dumpster caught his eye. The feeling of dread came back as he approached the object on the ground. It was Ford's leather satchel. Shining on the ground next to it, were more of the weird, shimmering white scales.

Why would Ford's satchel be here, of all places? he thought. Ford loved that old thing. It, along with the boxing gloves in Stan's gym bag, had been one of the last birthday gifts they received from their grandfather, before he passed away. He picked it up, to brush the dirt off of it, when he saw writing scrawled in the dirt. In a shaky, hurried script were the words; 'He's okay. For now'.
Stan felt slightly nauseous. This can't be happening!

He threw the satchel around his shoulders and took off at a sprint that would make his boxing coach proud. He didn't stop until he reached the door of his dad's pawn shop.