Page 6 of Sweet SIN Slaughterhouse

Solace.

Opening my eyes, I look around the property, my little piece of land within the big scheme of things. On my family's estate, I take in the beauty I’ve surrounded myself with. Large hanging willow trees, black iron fencing to match the outdoor furniture, old yard sculptures which most would call morbid, and cobblestones. All of which bring me immense joy.

Walking down the wide stone steps, a white piece of paper on the hood of my black Bentley SUV catches my attention, causing me to pause.

My finger taps my chin. Color me curious.

Strolling closer, my eyes squint through my oversized black cat-eye glasses, which are purely for aesthetics.

Interesting.

Reaching across the hood to the naked body on top of it, I yank the paper from the grips of the staples. Shaking off the excess blood, I see the edges have been burnt and the writing is done in ash.

We see you when you're sleeping.

Rolling my eyes,I fold the delicate paper and slide it into my front pocket. Moving around to the other side of my car, I take hold of the long bright pink hair which has become familiar to me. A new initiate. She joined the society by choice and was on her way to go places with us. Shewasa favorite among the pharma groups.

She is, or was, Tash; rest in peace. I do the catholic cross over my chest out of respect, I don’t do religion, but maybe she did?

This girl sold better than pharma’s own sales reps could here. And because of that, she helped us in landing the highest percentage of the take anyone has ever had in our town's history. The one pharma group we allow in, can sell to our hospital, pharmacies, and physicians, but we demand a fat stack of cash, demanding forty-five percent of the profit.

And we only had one rule: No Opioids.

And if they didn’t like our terms, we would make their demise painful while smiling as we watched them burn. They all know, if we take a meeting, it’s a gift, an opportunity that we could give to millions of other pharmaceutical companies. They would jump for the chance of gaining our territory, but if we take your meeting, you listen and you accept it. Papa was prepared to ask for twenty-five percent, Tash interjected, said fuck that, and closed at fourty-five.

What a fucking shame. It will take another lifetime to find someone like her again.

She was rare.

There are many different unspoken rules you learn growing up in the society, and one of the biggest is, you can’t grow attached to people in this lifestyle. People come and go, funerals and unmarked graves are the norm, but shit, she fucking had a young child with no dad in the picture.

Peering closer at her exposed body, just below her breasts is a large incision. Two lines make one upside-down cross. The small Devil’s Society brand, which was so beautifully decorating her abdomen is gone, replaced by a circle of shredded skin and exposed muscle. Looking down, I gaze at mine on the palm of my hand, allowing my mind to wander- as it often does, naturally.

The OGs of the society aren’t marked, it’s something initiates, also known as ‘The Damned’ started doing a few years ago. I wanted to show how serious I was aboutmaking this my life, so I joined them one night and got it in the worst imaginable place. Hurt like a motherfucker, but I earned their respect with one simple gesture. It’s one thing I will never regret, never.

As the memory fades, so does the phantom pain that begins to throb at the thought of it all. Moving closer, my eyes squint and my nose scrunches, “What a fucking mess,” I mumble in disgust to myself. The fresh cuts along Tash’s flesh have been cauterized, making it impossible to tell what kind of knife or tool made the incision. Meaning, I may never know who did this.

Examining the rest of her, I can’t make out any other wounds thanks to the dim lighting. Just the staples left behind from the note remain, a glint of shine bounces off the moonlight.

Removing my glasses, I bite the plastic arm and stare off into the dark distance of the night. Raising my brows, I tap my toe, curious indeed.

4

SID

Papa’s house is only down the street. Walking through his front door, loud voices echo down the hall. Rylee’s head pokes out. “Sid, we’re all in here.” I’ve always liked her. My dad doesn’t share the same sentiment. I think it’s because they could technically be siblings with the age difference. She and Papa have been together for nearly twenty years, if not more, and never married. Which I totally support, because at the end of the day, it’s just a fucking piece of paper. Mom and dad are the same.

They are all endgame and I am obsessed.

I love reading people, watching people, because the human mind is fascinating. Papa may wear the pants in the family business but she makes him beg for it in the bedroom. Knowing them better than others, I can just tell. And it makes me even more proud to be a member of this sadistic family.

Walking into the office, I’m greeted by Greta on the recliner off in the corner. Delacroix, Cecilia, Rylee, Rogers, Thomas, and my parents are a few familiar faces lining the room on top of the handful of non-family members.

Sitting behind his desk, cigar in hand with two fingers of whiskey in a crystal glass before him, is my grandfather, Nathaniel Sinclair. A leather chair sits next to him, so leisurely I walk past everyone and take my seat next to him. I wonder how one would acquire a throne, I’m not pretentious or think I am better than anyone, but the aesthetic appeals to me. As I lower myself to the chair, the paper in my pocket crinkles. Fuck.

Pulling it out, I discreetly and inconspicuously place it on Papa’s lap, out of sight and out of mind. My focus stays ahead to not draw attention. This is a matter not up for a group discussion, so no need to alarm anyone if it’s nothing at all. Papa snatches it like a pro while his deep voice echoes in the room,

“It’s no secret that by the close of this year, Sid Sinclair will be the new Diablo of The Devil’s Society. Starting tonight, right fucking now, all communication goes to both of us. If I catch one message differing between the two of us, consider your days numbered. I won’t tolerate bullshit politics or gender profiling. If anything, you should be goddamn terrified to piss her off considering who her daddy is. Do I make myself crystal fucking clear?”

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