Page 26 of Sweet SIN Slaughterhouse

He sniffles, whipping his nose. “Elijah said… Everything he does is for me. And it’s about the nicest thing I have ever heard him say to me.”

I burst out laughing as Rain mumbles, “You motherfucker.” She knows exactly what I’ve done.

“Thomas, he heard this song playing one day and uses that line on people. He did it to Sid first, then me. We all slowly caught on. It’s his go-to phrase if he wants to fuck with you and make you feel good. Remember… Elijah is an asshole. That will never change.” She speaks to him the entire time like he is in first grade, making this even more funny to me. Rain then begins to reassure him with some concern. “In his own way, he cares about you, but you know he would never get deep, right, Thomas?”

His face is red, fist clenched, and his machete falls to his feet.

Thomas is going to clock me.

Relaxing my face, I wait for the impact but instead he gets me right in the balls. A loud yelp escapes me as I fall to the ground. The phone beats me down and my bat rolls alongside of me. Rain is howling on the other end and through squinted eyes, I see Thomas smirking.

Through gritted teeth and stinging balls, I rasp, “I’m killing you next.” Even though I am wildly impressed with the balls on this guy for following through with what he just did to me.

“No, you're not. He is your only friend,” Rain retorts through the phone, then she adds quickly before hanging up, “Thomas, you better get out of there before he can stand. Bye, boys.”

He takes her advice, snatching his machete then leaving me in a state of pathetic misery. They did me a favor, as it’s only giving me more time to plot my traitor of a kid’s death. Slow, painful, and full of cries and screams.

Blaise is not a Sinclair. The name no longer wants him, and neither do we.

12

SID

The oil barrel burns bright with red and orange flames dancing out of it. All the evil that once lingered in my home is dead. Bad omens are removed and solace is returning to my sanctuary. A sanctuary which has a killer fucking playlist. Brody Dalle’s “Don’t Mess with Me” plays loudly in my ears as I dance around warm flames in black fitted slacks and a black high-neckline long-sleeved shirt, paired with a black harness with gold accents and a belt. A pair of combat boots adorn my feet while I have the time of my fucking life; my feet are still bandaged and hurt like a fucker, but fashion comes first.

Jack and Sally watch from the patio where they are lounging, gnawing on a couple ears from the freezer, basking in the full moon's energy alongside my crystal collection.

I feel renewed, ready for fucking anything, like my initiation.

Papa said I would receivethecall, and once I’m provided the location, I would have only an hour to arrive. I’m excited to leave the past behind and begin my future. I also am desperate to speak to my brother, who I hope shows up this evening.

Betrayal or not, he is still blood. And the anticipation of this evening is killing me. Anxious about the unknown that this evening brings, but excited to experience it all.

Looking down at my palm, at the scar he and I share, my heart aches. As pissed off as I am with him, I still need him. We shared an oath, a promise to one another. No matter what, we are always here for one another and when one takes their last breath, so will the other. It’s very Romeo and Juliet, it’s very dramatic, and it’s very us. Naturally, until death and after was my idea. We were out in the yard, deep within the woods exploring.

I was twelve, he was ten. My training to become Diablo had started a couple of years prior, but he kept me grounded and reminded me how important it was to continue experiencing life as a kid, even though many aspects were infiltrated with very adult situations. I liked it, the experiences and training. I never fought it, but he was right, I needed to try and achieve a balance of both worlds while I could.

After exploring the woods for hours that evening, we found a place to rest and just exist, the two of us, the only two people in the world, or at least that’s what it feltlike at the time. Pulling out my knife, I started playing with it between my fingers when Blaise snatched it from me.

Instinct said not to get mad, so I didn’t. Instead my eyes met his and I knew he had other plans for us. His face screamed mischief and mine begged him to take me along for the ride.

Waiting, I watched then followed his lead, cutting my palm in a single straight line like his. We brought our hands together and let each other's blood run through us, solidifying our bond, our promise. I felt a surge of energy blast through me in that moment, as our eyes remained looking into one another's soul, and he spoke two simple words, “For life.”

I added, “Even in death. No one without the other.” Blaise nodded, agreeing before we separated, letting the warm blood trickle down our wrists and arms.

It was after that night, the fighting with Dad and Blaise really amplified. He became more outspoken and I don’t think either of our parents enjoyed the idea of the blood bond pact we had made that evening. Mom was more understanding and tried to protect my brother, but sometimes he would dig such a fucking hole for himself it made it impossible.

Even though he was younger, Blaise would often speak up for me when I didn’t do it for myself.

To be clear, I didn’t need him to do this, and most of the time I was completely unaware and would be initially pissed off that he had. I was grateful for the opportunityand didn’t want anyone thinking otherwise, but he was adamant.

I learned so much from my brother growing up, he taught me to always be myself without apologies or regret.

We have one life, and we must live it.

And I do, each fucking day, for myself, for him, and for those who can’t. Take me as I am or fuck off. I have always had the confidence and self-acceptance, but as lines blurred between my childhood and adult life, he helped ensure I kept all sides of me intact.

For a kid he was so fucking wise, he absolutely got his soulful side from Mom. His short temper and not giving a fuck is all Dad. I like to think I am a cute version of both our parents, a little crazy mixed with curiosity and a little heart, it makes for an exciting time.

---