XIII. Danes Lobby I • it started with sin
Dimitri's view was pretty. It always was. After all, it always laid on him.
In the field outside the windows, he was tending to the Danes. He looked like the sun, and not just because he was surrounded by the flowers' yellow hues.
". . .tri. . . anything. . . add?"
Dimitri didn't realize he was smiling until his lips dropped.
"Dane to Dimi."
He exhaled as he forced his gaze away. His head was resting on his closed hand out of boredom. "What."
He was met with many looks, of irritation, amusement, or indifference, from those seated on a table longer in width and made of stone. On the wall ahead, laser-cut letters spelled Office of the Premier.
The LeRouge sat in no particular order—no one's position was higher than next—so of course Dimitri chose the spot with the prettiest view.
Irritated, Capucine repeated herself. "Is there anything you want to add? We're solidifying our plans to begin the Purging Game."
"It sounds good. I say we hurry up, though. Waiting a week is too long."
"Too long. . .?"
"I'm not opposed to that," Jacques added through a yawned out stretch. "I'm missing the feeling of blood in my veins."
"There's something else I'm missing," Marceau snickered. "I'm planning on doing more than just killing during the game. Why don't we team up? You hold them down, and I get to business."
"And have me watch? Fuck no."
"I think our start time is alright," Anaïs chimed in. "I haven't made up my mind on what strategies I'll use, yet."
"It's best to make it slow, Anaïs. Make them cry." "Know what I do? Act psycho. They're like what-what's going on, and you just fwip. Bullet through forehead." "No, you have to act normal. Inject someone with a spouse, or a close friend. They always doubt it. It's amazing."
The noise level increased with their cackles, save for the seat beside Dimitri. He tipped his head over.
"Sin, I can hear your teeth grinding," he mumbled.
His brother answered him quietly. "Guess I can't help it."
Dimitri hummed. "We're here because of you. That makes you as sick as we are."
"No, Mitri. If I had known you all became like this, I never would have betrayed Isla."
"That's too bad." It was no surprise where Dimitri's gaze flickered off to. "Everyone in that disgusting world deserves to die a shitty death."
Sinclair sighed.
Marceau hit the table twice, stealing their attention. "Get it? I'll make them come before they go."
They doubled over in laughter. Dimitri scoffed at the joke. Sinclair, however, got up and left.
"There he goes again."
YOU ARE READING
EONS of NEOS
Teen FictionXAVIER COX sees memories he's never lived. He isn't the only one. Ten years ago, NEO RUHL gave his life. He allowed himself to be cloned for the sake of the growing lack of organ donations the world faced. Indeed, he gave many lives, each one a pai...
