Brothers and Sisters- INTJ and INFJ: A Short Story


Well, here’s another story. The last one just went over so well I just had to give the people what they want.

Actually, I just wanted to write more.

Enjoy this woeful tale of mystery, power, deceitfulness and even more power!

At the end of a long corridor, in a dark room with a several monitors as his source of light, sat an INTJ. He had been thinking all night and hadn’t moved from his chair other than to get more coffee. Black, of course.

He was an addict that had gotten used to the taste of bitterness. If one of his assistants had ever made the mistake of bringing him anything other than straight black, they were given a look that would send shivers up a blind man’s spine. People would call him a perfectionist but as he would tell them, “Maybe your standards just aren’t high enough.”

In the blinding light of one of several monitors, he clicked and clacked away violently at the keyboard. Most never knew what he was doing, and they that was the way he liked it. He was usually talking to an associate and friend. But no one needed to no about it. Not yet. The idea of those around him, even those closest to him respecting him out of fear was one of the few things that really got him smiling. There was only one that he didn’t seem to intimidate, but irritate. In fact, she freaked him out a little.

But she wasn’t on his mind right now.

An ESTJ and his army of idiots were. For all of their secrecy and attempts at concealing themselves, it did absolutely nothing to phase the INTJ and his progress. He’d found out about the impending military attack days before they’d actually planned to commence and not only did he kill the spies planted throughout his base, but he’d made it clear to the ESTJ that he knew by hanging their bodies on flag poles toward the beach of his metallic island. So the INTJ waited for a day. And then a night. And then another day.

And at the exact same time he’d found the extracted just the information he’d needed out of the one he left alive the longest, he made sure to contact the ESTJ commanding officer. As the screen in front of the INTJ took up nearly an entire wall, it also lit up the dark room, making all of the INTJ’s trophies and artifacts from around the world visible.

Some things were simply souvenirs from places he thought were interesting. Others were bits of jewelry or cloth from the royal robes of enemies he’d taken especial delight in eliminating. There were two empty glass cases toward the center though. He was saving room for two men whose time wasn’t up yet, though he’d hoped to change that soon.

The screen was clear. Watching all the little men in their uniforms scurry around their little battle stations made him a little happy. His voyeuristic tendencies were getting the better of him as he thought about how long he would watch his enemies before making it known he could see their every move. Just as thought that he would watch them longer, he became disgusted that they ant-like men weren’t doing more with themselves.

Serving is for the weak. And my God, are these men weak.

Get me the Captain, please.”

All the men in the room jumped his first words that rang through the speakers of their control room. Only a few of them probably even knew what was going on as they crowded around the monitor that displayed this Dracula-esque figure, sitting in his chair.

“Some of you know what I’ve done. I’ve hacked through your security systems, we can now see and hear each other. Stop looking surprised and get your commanding officer please. The ESTJ. Get him now.”

One man in the control room who was obviously just a step above the rest of the men and women in rank, even if just a baby step, came forward. His hair was buzzed on the sides and it was little bit too long on top for the INTJ’s taste. This man was going to try and keep the INTJ busy, which of course, the INTJ knew and was already scoffing at what hadn’t even happened yet.

What do you wan-“

The INTJ butt in, as he was apt to doing. “I WANT TO TALK TO YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER, NOT YOU. If I have to say it again, I’m going to make a decision that will either kill all of you, if not maim you. If you do live, YOU will be fired and possibly imprisoned for speaking out of line.”

The man composed himself after all of them had clearly not been prepared for such a strange situation and a man so intrusive, so rude.

“Understood.” he said.

“Damn well better be.” the INTJ remarked as he took a sip of scotch from his crystal glass, that had been sitting there most of the night. Coffee was for work, Scotch was for play. Though he didn’t “play” much because ultimately it was for show. But that was something the INTJ would hardly even admit to himself.

Moments later, a disheveled man in his mid fifties came to the center of the room. It was clear he’d just woken up and was trying to look as presentable as possible. The real reason the INTJ knew he’d just woken up wasn’t because of his look or because of the time, but because he didn’t have his trademark cigar. The ESTJ always had it. Even when he wasn’t smoking it.

“The hell do you want, psycho?” he grumbled.

“Captain, calm down. We’re adults, aren’t we?”

The INTJ always referred to his enemies by their title if he could. It made him feel more superior by acknowledging their achievements so when he defeated or even embarrassed them, he felt that much more superior. Titles meant nothing to him, save for his own.

“Well, what do you want? Blow up another military base? Kill another hundred of my men or innocents? What is it?”

The INTJ’s eyebrows raised. He tilted his head with a little smirk. But the ESTJ wasn’t done yet.

“Or did you just realize how pathetic you are and decide to give yourself up? Spit it out, psycho!”

The Captain never referred to his enemies by their rank, or hardly even their name, but as he saw them. Stupid people were called “stupid,” Weak people were called “Weaklings” or some name like “gimpy” to drive the point home that he didn’t view them as respectable. The ESTJ only respected rank, be it in the form of the military, age, or actions.

“Maybe I AM the only adult out of the two of us, but even still. I thought I should give you fair warning for what’s about to happen should you choose NOT to leave my waters. You have no-“

The ESTJ gave out a forced fake laugh for a moment just to let the INTJ know how ludicrous he thought the demands were.

“Leave? Leave you out here to plan your next massacre? This is WAR, you fool! The only one of us that’s leaving is you in a body bag. What did you really call about?”

“What did I call about? Captain, you can’t be that stupid. If this is war, you should be more prepared. I called to you warn you about the torpedoes that are heading your way from an unidentifiable vessel. I wanted to warn you because clearly you don’t have the technology yourself to catch it in time.”

“What are you talking about? Torpedoes? We’ve got nothing on our RADAR. If you had tried to kill us just now, we’d of known about it almost as soon as you decided to-”

A younger officer chimed in.


“What is it?”

“Sir, we’ve got multiple incoming torpedoes!”

“Shit.” The ESTJ sneered. If looks could kill, the pissed off stare he was giving the INTJ would have done it in a second or less. The INTJ smiled as he ended the transmission.

He didn’t want any surprises spoiled, but a last laugh was always in order when he could get it. He took another drink of the reddish-brown liquid, and set it back on the desk as though that was the tough part.

“Did you have to do that?” a quiet voice came from the corridor behind him. It was a little startling but he knew who it was.

“Yeah, I think it was necessary.” He smirked, knowing full well it wasn’t.

An INFJ walked out from the hallway. Her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness before she stepped into the light. Her dark brown hair done up in such a way that was reserved and unique at the same time. Her arms were crossed as if she were cold even in her olive drab military sweater. She rolled her eyes subtly. He didn’t even see it in the dark.

“It was necessary to mock those men before you murdered them?”

The INTJ feigned ignorance. “He said it himself! This IS war! I don’t understand why you’re pretending it matters, if they see me or if they don’t. The deed is still done.”

“They really didn’t even need to know it was you.”

The INTJ laughed for so short of a time, it was really scoffing. “Of course it was me! They were watching me, weren’t they? Ready to strike at any time, I believe the transmitter said? It was a matter of who knows how long before they actually did it. What’s the problem with just enjoying your work more than most? The job is still done.

He was growing angrier by the second. “And don’t forget your place. Being my sister only gets so many advantages here. Thank you for your help though. It was appreciated.”

She didn’t even want him bringing up the part she’d played in any of this. In fact, she was getting more and more fed up with her situation every day she’d spent there. She was always being watched. There was always the eye on her.

The INTJ was a little annoyed at her lack of acknowledgement toward his comment. He didn’t give out thanks much and felt like he should be rewarded when he did so. But he was also becoming more and more aware that the one person he needed with him was the person who wanted to be there the least. So in his INTJ mind, he’d try to make something of an effort.

“So you found the INTP then, did you?”

His sister already knew where he was going with this and couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Yes.”

“What was he doing again? The men were talking about it, but I didn’t have time. What was he doing? Floating on trash?” He could barely get his sentence out before beginning to laugh again.

The INFJ started to laugh too although she had more of a soft spot for the INTP, rude as she was to him sometimes. “Float on a raft he’d made out of recyclables.”

The INTJ began to laugh more in the minute than he had all week. “Wearing what was it?”

She paused. “Nothing but his pants and a ruined bullet proof vest.”

“Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

She nodded. “I know. Really.”

“Amazing for us though. Our enemy’s top captive scientist escapes, is found floating around in the ocean, only to be found by the rival company. I wounder how free he really thought he was.”

The INFJ had spent more time with the INTP. “Oh, he seems to know he had more to go through before he was done.”

“I wonder if he wishes he’d just stayed where he was.”

“I don’t think it made a difference to him.” she remarked.

“Good point. Go check on our friend, will you? But don’t stay too long, I know how sentimental you get with some of these people.”

The INFJ began to walk out without hesitation yet it felt too quick to the INTJ. “Oh, also…” he started, pausing until his sister had turned all the way around.


“Bring me our newest trophy from your work station, or from wherever it is.”

“It’s there. I’ll do it.”

“Thank you. And I am serious. I couldn’t have done that without you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The INTJ wasn’t very good at reading people but the INFJ was never very good at hiding things she felt so strongly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Just tired.”

The INTJ paused for a moment to think on whether or not he believed her. After a moment, he let her go with an “Okay.” He wanted her to be alright but he wanted his trophy even more.

As the INFJ walked quickly down the long hallway she’d just come from, she couldn’t help but let it ramble in her mind how uncomfortable she was with the idea of laughing at somebody before she killed them. She’d killed plenty of people before, but never laughed at them. Never even been in the same room with them. And it was usually painless. Usually.

Talking the elevator down several floors to the underground area of the base was her least favorite area of the compound, yet it was also where she felt the safest. It was really the present moment when she felt the least safe; in the elevator. It was a long drop if the cables snapped for whatever reason.

A bomb dropping. The building burning down. Someone attempting to kill her brother and snapping the cables with her inside. All of them were reasonable and if she did die, there would be nobody to recover her body and care. Her brother? He would only care as much as he did if one of his computers were broken.

She was a tool to be used and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. But she needed to because she was about to talk to the people who really had no one to care about them past the point of being used. And as no matter what, the eye was always on her. She blamed her brother for always being watched so closely.

The INFJ walked out to the laboratory. It was twice as large as anything their rivals would be using. The INFJ’s brother was a simple peon at one point before rising through the ranks and becoming who he is. In the time he spent as an underling, so to speak, he always remembered that the creators and inventors needed their room to work. Her brother may have forgotten a lot of things when it came to his previous endeavors, but he respected the work of Rational men, even if not the men themselves.


The INFJ looked down to the lower level, where several men would scurry around, at the very least trying to look busy. “Doctor!” she yelled down, partially smiling as she knew her yell was as loud as some people talked regularly.

Still, the INTP heard. He popped up from his station, underneath a large mechanical device that didn’t have any discernible shape or ending point. His huge goggles were over his face, covering up a great deal of his face. His head naturally leaned forward as though he were a human vulture. He hated being forced to do something against his will as he was, but he hated being interrupted even more.

“WHAT?!” He screamed before he’d really thought about who was calling him.

The INFJ gave a look that was offering him a chance to rescind. He took it.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize it was you.”

The INFJ was usually quick to forgive, if for no reason other than to avoid conflict, even if she was of higher status and was able to condescend to. And on this island, she could to that to anyone, save for her brother. She rarely used that opportunity, though the INTP sometimes took her gestures and tone as that.

Though given his situation, he was paranoid and antsy twenty four/seven and the INFJ’s presence was a reminder he may never really go free. The INTJ’s presence would indicate that but he never showed himself.

“Yes, ma’am. What would you like?” He asked through clenched teeth.

“I was asked to see how you were doing.” the INFJ responded humbly.

The INTP was prepared for the worst, but this was definitely not the worst. Just annoying. “Oh.” he replied. “We’re about the same as usual down here.”

“Good.” She answered.

The INTP was now frustrated by her short, nearly pointless answers but wasn’t sure of how much to show. On one hand, things were better here than with the ENTJ. He was mostly alone here while the ENTJ felt the need to check in on him every five minutes. Here, he was bothered only every couple days which was fine with the exception that he was expected to finish this project on a shorter time frame.

Since the “glorious” leader at this base understood the nuclear sciences a bit better, the INTP didn’t have as much freedom to move without certain questions being asked. And he was hardly any good at lying about it. Still, he would and did lie, specifically to the INFJ. Or just withhold more information than they’d want him to.

“Was there anything else?” He asked, trying hard to not sound impatient but he only did so good of a job. “…Ma’am.” He added to sound a bit more respectful. He’d begun to suspect that she needed a friend and would attempt to make pseudo-friends with her on occasion. To what avail, he wasn’t entirely sure.

She wasn’t sure why, but she found herself interested in the INTP. Whenever she had to go down to check on the INTP, she found herself trying to find reasons to stay longer. She didn’t think it was professional to think that way but that was only after her brother told her it wasn’t and she reminded herself of what she was doing there. What any of them were doing there. And it wasn’t to make friends.

“No. No, that’s all for tonight. Wanted to make sure you had everything you needed.”

“We do for now, yes. Thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you.” His impatience was written on his face and speaking for him as the INFJ turned around, secretly a bit disappointed she couldn’t find a reason to talk a bit more. But she knew nothing about what they were doing, save for the end result. There was nothing for her to say at the time without taking them away from their work. She got back into her elevator and dreaded a long night ahead of her.

The INTP on the other hand had now lost his steam for work and was going to put what little effort he had left into ranting about their superiors.

“What a waste of TIME that was.”

Simpson, a man previously entrusted with the INTP’s current job nodded approvingly before he got back to work on a machine that kept them busy and kept the captive. The INTP wasn’t done though.

“I mean, every time we’re in the thick of this, she comes in here. And what does she say? Nothing! It’s bad enough where we are, but we’ve got to stop every few minutes to make small talk? I don’t know which one is worse- him or her.”

Another man popped his head up, just barely from his station. “Definitely him.”

The INTP was being rhetorical, but he still couldn’t disagree with a truism. “Yeah…” he said as his voice and mind trailed off.

And then came back.

“I just don’t get what her purpose is. She doesn’t know anything about what we’re doing down here, what is the purpose of HER checking in on us when she does. She doesn’t even have a title to go with her position. Not that titles matter much, I guess.”

Simpson chimed in. “You should be glad it’s her. Her brother would want to inspect what we’re ACTUALLY doing and then we’d all REALLY be screwed.”

The INTP’s paranoia kicked in- “Shut UP, man.”

Simpson seemed confused and the INTP’s anger was contained as he poke through clenched teeth again. “We don’t know what bugs or tracers they might have in here.”

Simpson nodded, not having thought of that before. “Well, with any luck, maybe she’s developed Lima Syndrome because of you and she’ll just let us all go!”

The crew laughed as the INTP walked toward his room. “Psh. Yeah. Right. Bit too creepy for me.”


As the INFJ quietly walked to her work station in the upper floors of her and her brother’s industrial estate, she passed the creepy portraits of her family from the younger days. The eyes of everyone in the family watched her as she passed through. She started to climb the spiraling staircase that was built to look exactly like the one from her childhood. And it did look like the one from her childhood. The only problem was going up the stairs always left her with a ethereal case of deja vu.

The elevator she was in only went to the first floor of the living quarters so that no one could “accidentally press a button leading to where the INFJ or her brother actually lived. You’d have to take the stairs that were protected by a security code that only the siblings knew.

Finding herself at the top of the stairs, she looked out onto the dark waves that weren’t but a couple hundred feet from the house. The metal base that the house and military camp rested on didn’t do the view justice but she wasn’t interested in where she was but where she could be in the near future. Where she wanted to be.

Somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn’t this place. Any place. May be even with the enemy. As long as they were far off. She didn’t want to go to her work station but her brother wanted his trophy so off she went.

Even though the house was new and was built on created land, her brother still insisted that the upper floors, like the staircase, be built just like their old home. The floors were exactly the same, the placement of the rooms and even the beds and windows inside. Downstairs was all new, cold, and open. But upstairs might as well have been made in the sixties like their old house. Making her way to the end of the hallway that matched the old house, she opened the door that creaked like it was as old as the original house.

In her room that favored an attic, there was a single bed that would never be slept in. On the floor was a design that would be unrecognizable to the layman’s eye but would make him feel uncomfortable all the same. It was a design in a circle around six feet in diameter and at the center, an eye. Always the eye.

On that eye, was a hat. A captain’s hat, specifically, and it contained several hairs that formerly belonged to an ESTJ. Candles and symbols did a lot but it was the specificity of DNA that ultimately did the trick. Or at least the best that it could do.

Nothing was ever guaranteed but tricks like the ones the INFJ used in her brother’s service usually made things a sure bet.


Back in his lair of sorts, the INTJ clicked away at his computer, talking to an associate still.

Not even his sister was privy to who this person was, though she’d happen to have been behind him as he typed madly. She was able to make out something about a meeting time and place which seemed strange seeing as how he’d never go anywhere and that meant someone coming to them. She’d had just enough time to wonder “Who” just before he saw her and was startled by her presence.

The only person who could do that to him. “What? What do you need?” he asked.

She said nothing as she lifted up the Captain’s hat. He smiled and reached for it like a mother had brought her son home a toy. He happily went and place the hat underneath the glass case on the shelf. There was only one more spot left open on the top and he knew who would take it’s place.

The INFJ yawned. “Do you mind if I go off to bed then?”

The INTJ looked at her happily, but his smile disappeared after seeing her. There seemed to be a dark glow around her, like a shadow that wasn’t cast by anything in the room. It was distracting and it only seemed to happen with her.

“Yes…Yes, that’s fine.”

The INFJ turned and started to walk to her room as her brother told again that he was thankful.

“I know it was difficult for our man to get the hat but you’ve still done most of the work. Thank you.”

“Mm hm.” she said as she walked down the dark hall again, worn out. She needed her sleep. And her sleep was the only time she didn’t feel like she was being watched by that eye.




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