And it works.
Izz spills a tide of gossip from other inmates, over bets on how long a lifespan he will have when being associated to Sinn'ous. It’s nothing Sinn'ous hasn’t heard already, or thought of himself, Izz has no clue how close he’d come to being a statistic in their bets. A pay out for many inmates.
He should offer support? Smooth over the vacuum of emotions spilling all-over the fucking place. But when he opens his mouth to do just that Izz cuts him off.
“You framed those guys for the guard’s . . . murder?” The accusation is a soft-spoken squeak, barely loud enough to carry to Sinn'ous’s ears.
Not what he was expecting to hear.
Also an accurate assumption.
But he can’t give Izz the answer to this, the boy isn’t ready to definitively know who Sinn'ous is. “A guard’s death is always investigated thoroughly. Best not to leave them an open case,” is the only explanation Sinn'ous is able to give.
He leads Izz down the stairs guiding the way to A-Wing’s corridor, fully intent on dropping this subject. Izz on the other hand is not.
A puppy with a bone.
“Did you only frame them? or did you . . .”
Sinn'ous locks eyes on the boy, reiterating wordlessly what Izz’s fishing for. Letting him come to his own conclusions.
Sinn'ous can see the gears turning, it’s a palpable change in the boy.
Reni breaks out of the crowd, hovering behind Izz at a respectable distance. Sinn'ous doesn’t spare him so much as a glance, and he’s sure that Izz hasn’t noticed him.
Attention facing forward once again,Sinn'ous continues on, knowing Izz will follow. It’s becoming abundantly clear just how easy it will be to chain the boy to his side.
They’ve gone several steps before Izz speaks up again. “How long do you have left on your sentence?”
“Ten months.” He leaves out any hints of his interactions with the lawyer. It’s not something Izz needs to know yet.
Don’t worry, I am sorting that out as we speak. Satan will guide the process and assistin the success of my plans.
Soon. Oh so soon. He will have Izz in his grasp even outside these walls. He refuses to let his prey get away.
Ever.
You’re mine to hurt. Mind to have. Mine to possess. Body and soul.
Nothing and no one will take you away from me. There is no preventing this, it’s as inevitable as the lives he takes in Satan’s name.
Izz makes a little sound of surprise. His footsteps faltering then continuing to slap on. They’ve ended up walking side by side, weirdly similar to that of a couple walking the streets.It’s different, but not unwanted. The close proximity is oddly . . . relaxing?
It’s weird because he usually avoids close proximity to others. Getting close in the past has always resultedin unwelcometouch.
And this closeness is different to sacrifices. For one, he isn’t about to kill Izz. And for another, this closeness is . . .
Well, he’s not entirely sure what it is. Endearing?—
Gross, no.
They enter the cafeteria, bright lights, loud voices, bulky tables, scuffed floor. The whole room smells like night sweats and morning breath. If he didn’t have a strong stomach the stench would curdle his organs.
He catches Izz’s upper arm in a vice-like grip, redirecting him when he tries to join the end of the queue. Cutting straight to the front he collects two trays, and two meals. All the while the boy fidgets nervously by his side.
He’s on auto pilot up to the moment he clicks to the fact that Izz’s followinghim to his table and not to Reni’s table. And as elated as this development hits, he cannot allow it.
Distance is key to breed dependency, Izz has to experience the shitty side of prison to see how good he can have it by doing what Sinn'ous wants.
