Taking a deep, measured breath in a way that hides his reaction, is all he can do. If he lashes out now he’ll break the thin tether he’s finally gotten to stick. Once it’s stronger he’ll be able to bend the limits further.
He could come out and say what his intentions are. That the only reason they are here is because he wanted to kill Izz.
Wanted? Past tense? Not want?
When did that change?
Shoving those thoughts aside he deliberately ignores their presence and opts for an answer that can have a number of interpretations. “You intrigue me.”
There. It’s sort of an answer. It has empathy in it. Has morality etched into it.
Maybe?
Should he offer more? Add feelings to it?
He has this demanding need to explain himself. He knows less is more, and you shouldn’t offer more than the essentials when answering questions like these. Yet he doesn’t stop his mouth from continuing to speak.
“Closest I’ve come tofeelinganything towards someone, outside of what it’s like for them to . . .”Die, at my hands, “no longer be around . . .” and because he can’t deal with Izz ever saying that title again, he adds on, “but don’t call me that. I am not aserial killer. I am only me. Who I have always been.Not some make-believe-thingnormalpeople invent to allow themselves to feel better about living boring sheltered lives.”
His mounting irritation dissipates when Izz smirks, his lips quirking in amusement.
“Something amusing?” Sinn'ous quips, though there is no malice to it. It’s almost like Izz calms him? Smoothing down his sharp edges.
“You can live a perfectly eventful life without killing anyone,” Izz’s smile only grows wider, and it has Sinn'ous’s instincts flaring. A softerversion of the driving forcewhich overcomes his system when he’s about to kill a sacrifice.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
Why deny what feels so good? That’s not a life worth living. Killing people is way too much fun to give up.
And Satan deserves to be given His sacrifices.
Izz outright laughs. His body shaking, arms loosening to drop from their tight gripon his legs, red marks left behind in the skin.
The joviality doesn’t last. Gone as quickly as it flashed in. Silently slipping back away, making room for a weight to hover over the boy’s expression.
“You’re strange,” Izz playfully mocks, broad smile unfaltering. But the darkness there lingers.
Sinn'ous shows his own form of amusement, allowing his mask to crack and lets out a small glimpse of what being here by Izz’s side does to him. “Is it a good or bad thing.”
Whatever the answer, now that the subject has been touched on it will make the transition for Izz easier to swallow. Once Sinn'ous has the carefully constructed environment set to his liking, he’ll be able to ease the boy into accepting this part of him.
And the boy will be clueless to what Sinn'ous is doing to him, until it’s too late, and he’s already fully submerged in Sinn'ous’s whims.
If done right the boy will believe everything Sinn'ous does to him is his idea. He will believe he is in control. He will not see what seeds are being planted and nurtured in his psyche.
Sinn'ous will own his every fibre, down to the marrow of his very soul.
“Haven’t worked it out yet,” Izz murmurs in response, and Sinn'ous internally beams.
The seeds have already begun to sprout.
42
SINN'OUS
The deal is done, the cards are laid out and everything is working its way up to being set in stone. It won’t be long now until Izz’s a free man. An early release brought on by one hard working lawyer who Sinn'ous has to respect. Because he gets shit done. The face-to-face meeting Sinn'ous just had confirms it.
The next steps are setting up a meet-and-greet where Izz will speak with the lawyer to go over all the gritty details. It will happen soon, once paperwork is confirmed or something tediously boring like that. He hadn’t tracked much past the hard facts.
