The name's Sinner. Sinner Sinner.
Well my last name's actually Wellington, but it's too posh and British for my liking so Sinner Sinner it is. It's got a nice ring to it, if I can say so myself. Plus, it rhymes. And who doesn't like a name that rhymes? Nobody.
Anyway, you're probably wondering where I'd I get such a name. Well, that's a story in itself, hey.
When I was younger, my old man was never home. In fact, he didn't even live with mum and I. He'd only come every few months or so, when he'd be damn well broke so mum could bail him out with a bit of cash. And that was if she even had any.
Talk about an alcoholic, Mum would always be engrossed in her alcohol- damn she'd forget the world and drink all through the night. She was supposedly drinking away her problems, but all it ever did was make her angry and much sader.
I'd see her swaying her head and banging it on anything hard. The wall, table, a vase; You name it.
All I ever wanted to do was save her. But alcohol- it was mum's life. Every time I'd try to take it off her, she'd cry, sob and beat me.
Once she threw a beer bottle at my face. That was where I got the cut in my left eyebrow from.
Mum had always called me her little Sinner. I never really understood it at first, but then I realised that in her eyes, it was a sin to snatch away a bottle of booze from your mother. Even though I only did it because I loved and cared about her. She'd always just take it the wrong way and call me the name that'd grown on me. Now that I come to think of it, I was more of a parent to her than she ever was to me.
Once school had come around, I soon had to be enrolled. And since mum had become so accustomed to calling me Sinner, she wrote it as my birth name on the enrolment forms.
So Sinner it is eh. And I guess, Sinner it'll stay.
These days, some or probably more like most people would call me a criminal. But I think those people are just a little too uptight. I'll live my way, and they can bloody well live theirs. I don't complain about them mowing their lawn at freaking six in the morning, so they shouldn't care when their dogs go missing after I've repeatedly warned them about shutting them up.
I'm not a bad person, I just value sleep. So if I've gotta feed a few dogs here and there a Mars bar, then I'll flaming do as I please.
Anyway enough about mongrels, and onto my life. Well, if you could even call it that.
How exactly do I live my life, you ask? Well, I live my days from abandoned homes to old friend's places and I visit mum in the mental hospital when I can- not like she even acknowledges me when I do visit, so it's no crime to not see her for a couple months.
Hobbies? Well I'm kinda fond of chess and I'll rape a pretty girl here and there when I can find one...now don't look at me like that! I'm harmless! (unless you look like a model!) I mean who can live without the sex? I'll eat, drink and party my ass off. I'll steal any cash I can get my hands on and rob from pretty much anywhere.
I'm also quite fond of drugs. Now don't give me that same look. It's not like I'm a bloody drug addict! I just like a little meth every now and then. Plus, at the moment, my best mate Isaac is off abroad with a load of mine. And mind you, he hasn't gotten caught once.
Anything else?...Hmm, well I'm also quite the archeologist. Well, if you consider trips to the local cemetery archeology work, then so be it! There's nothing wrong with digging around in graves. Some people call it sick, I call it...humanising. I also like visiting the local museum. And not for the artwork, but the hot guides that work there- which come to think of it, are also artworks within themselves. But even though they're hot, they aren't worth a trip to the museum. I usually find myself there, slipping in a few old artefacts and original artworks, into my coat (or robe when I'm feeling extra daring!).
It's actually amazing that some ol' buggers even buy them off me. I mean, a couple hundred grand for a painting of a sunset? Really?
But I guess some people are born to be stupid. Maybe to help out poor, messed up buggers like myself.
So that's pretty much my life, you might call it a life of crime- but it's a life just as well.
Jeez, people these days need to live a little.
I'm wanted by the police, but not if they don't find me hah! They've been hot on my trails a couple times, and I've had some close calls. But, I've been at this game for a long time now. I've got my connections, and can wiggle my way out of some big stuff.
I'm pretty much unstoppable. Well, Maybe not completly. Everyone's got a weakness; Superman had his Kryptonite. So I guess my weakness would be my left eye. My Achilles heel if you would. After one night when I got into a fight with mum, some glass cut deep, and now I've got this glass one. It looks and works like a normal eye; blinks and all. But, it's the one thing I'm always self conscious and insecure about. And I feel as though (and wait, I know it sounds rediculous, but hear me out) that one day, I will be defeated by my only weak spot. I just know it that one day, someone will use my glass eye against me. I can like totally feel it. So, I keep it to myself. It's my top secret secret.
So it's a good thing I'm good with secrets and haven't told a soul. Not even my close pal Isaac knows-Oh wait. Cr*p.
Oh no. Stupid, stupid Sinner!
I did let it slip this one time in tenth grade. I told a girl that I trusted at the time. And-Hmm what was her name? She had long black hair, loved pulling pranks, had a weird laugh and was quite sarcastic...
Eva.
Evangeline Richards, was her name.
Oh fudge cakes, she could be anywhere in the world right now. Stay cool, I'll just get in touch with people and track her down and get rid of her. The sooner, the better. She can't know, no one can know. And as they say, 'Must cut all loose ends.'
So, she's first on my list of many people to get rid off. I've been holding it off for a while, but there's a whole bunch of people who have crossed me in the past, and I only now have the chance to get even and settle the scores.
There's not only Eva, but Fred, Joel and Alex, just to name a few. They're not gonna know what hit them. But here's something they'll know for sure.
You don't mess with me if you're not ready for battle.
So it's time to put on the war paint, and collect the ammo.
Ready, set. War!
They don't call me Sinner for nothing.
I'm Sinner Sinner and this is MY story.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
As you probably would've guessed, this is a new story I've been working on. Some might have recognised Sinner, if you've read Waves of Life, when he was how should I put this....pre-pycho/killer/rapist? Anyway, if you'd like to see(read) Sinner when he was a teen then check that out. (Shameless advertising..haha!)
So, yeah. This is a spin off to WOL. And it's the first time for me writing a mystery/thriller book so I'm unsure if this is that great. So comment down if you think I should continue with it. Any feedback is welcomed! :)
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-Ed ⭐️
