Everything Sinister

One

Regret is a privilege of people who can afford to be good.

~

You need to understand, we were all a little fucked up.

~LA

~

It all started in Summerland. In the city of sins. It wasn't Las Vegas where everyone partied and drunk.

No.

These were real sins with blood, betrayal and fucked up fetishes. Nothing romantic about it.

That's why everybody calls it the Sincity. Because the sins in this city were sins no matter how you looked at it.

It wasn't a fun place. It was hell.

"Did you steal this, Ella?"

I looked down at the seven-year-old.

Others were already holding their share of the money I stole from a guy with whom I had a date yesterday.

Don't look at me like that, sweetheart. No one who carried so much cash in the city of sins could have been a good guy.

I nodded, knowing she already knew anyway.

"You didn't have to."

I knew she was right, agent.

But I also knew, that evening I will be accompanying them home under orange Sincity lights and sex shops neon signs and they would come home where their poor or neglectful parents wouldn't be waiting for them. Either because they didn't care or cared so much they sacrificed their sleep for the money for their children

And the kids would be alone and hungry. So, no. I did not regret it.

Regret is a privilege of people who can afford to be good.

"I know. On your spot, sugar. We gotta start."

She nodded but didn't say anything, fully knowing what rules in Sincity were. What was necessary to survive.

"Let's start," I said and we began with another lesson of fighting.

Some of these kids would make it out of here. Some not.

Some would become underground fighters for people with double chins and spit coming from their screaming mouths.

Some would become more like me. Someone who might hurt the bastards with double chins and blood coming from their screaming mouths.

Oh, yes, agent. You have to wait for a confession. I have a story to tell.

"Hey, Hellholes!" I shouted at the two boys and a little girl no older than four years old.

We called them Hellholes for obvious reasons. There was no place in heaven they couldn't make hell break free. Troublemakers was an understatement. The three orphans could take down empires just because you have annoyed them. 

Even Shaw feared them.

"Nyna stop pulling Alden's hair! Dayton! Stop... whatever you are doing."

Nyna let go of Alden's hair but she kicked him in the shin right after. I imagined demons look like these three. Maybe painted red or something.

Dayton let go of Elora's T-shirt, the girl who scolded me with her eyes, now staring blankly at the boy, not moving an inch and Dayton scoffed as if I just ruined his fun.

"If you are so eager for a fight, then we should make a ring, huh?"

They cheered and made a circle around Elora and Dayton. She was a quiet kid with wise eyes. That's what made her so scary. But Dayton was... I'm pretty sure he was a sociopath by this point.