Chapter VIII | Poison.

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18:03- Sicily O'Connor (Joy)

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18:03- Sicily O'Connor (Joy)

Hey Markel, it's me, Sicily (Joy). I think I found a lead.

19:32- Sicily O'Connor (Joy)

Mark? You okay?

19:46- Sicily O'Connor (Joy)

Mark, I'm calling you at 8 to discuss the lead.

Glancing at his phone in disinterest, Markel lounged beneath the large oak tree in the graveyard, hands knitted together behind his head as he gazed at the cloudless setting sky. It was now 7:58, and he had no intention of answering that promised phone call. However, when his phone hummed with vibration at 8:00, he still undid the knot he'd tied his fingers into and grabbed the small cellular device, accidentally elbowing the back of a headstone in the process.

'Sorry Ella,' he mumbled to the grave before pressing the small green Take Call button.

'Mark! Why haven't you been texting me back?' Sicily's voice, mildly shrill and interlaced with random bouts of static, came over from the other end of the line. Staring down at the screen, Markel's eyes narrowed.

'This is Denzle.' Pause.

'Huh?'

'M. P. Denzle. Unfortunately, due to the incompetence of the degree of accuracy built into DNA, I happen to be in the process of developing biotechnological softwares to prevent mutations in DNA replication, and will get back to you in probably 24 hours. Have a good day or night.'

Pause on her end. Markel allowed himself a self-satisfied smirk, then spoke into the phone again.

'Just kidding. Though if I really didn't pick up, yes, that does happen to be my voicemail. So, did you want something?'

'....Ah...haha... Mark, your sense of humor is just....' Sicily's voice crackled with static, but Markel was positive she was glaring awkwardly at his name on her Caller ID.

'Do you have a thing against my current voicemail? If so, pray that you'll never have to call me whenever I'm unavailable.'

'N-no, it's just that if I take a member of the general populace and tell them to listen to your voicemail, they'd probably just dismiss you as a teen with a false sense of grandeur. But, thankfully, I do understand this DNA replication reference.'

'So you really aren't that stupid.'

'Nope!'

Woah, that came out too loud. Wincing as his automatic reaction sent his hand- and his phone- crashing into Ella's headstone again, Markel glanced apologetically at where he liked to think her ghost was watching, and mouthed a guilty 'Sorry' before returning to the call.

'Right, so. You called me. What did you want to convey to me over this live session?'

'Mark-!' Exasperation was evident in Sicily's voice, though she sounded like she really tried to hide it.

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