They're both heartless... but for each other, they'd burn the world without a single flame touching them.
Cruel, evil, genius, emotionless and ironically blessed with the looks of angels and a secrets in life their stuck with.
***
Official descrip...
I walk out of the left wing of the lake house, smirking at the thought my victory against Jackson at chess, to the car. I know I was playing against a child but who doesn't like wining? Jackson was a relatively good player though he couldn't beat me at anything especially chess-on-pool— which was what he called swimming while playing chess on a pool floaty. The only person who had come close to or preventing me from wining was his little sister: Sage.
No one could keep up with me and yet, it fascinated me that this little girl could. It also irritated me to no end that a seven-year-old kid could be the first person to beat me— since ever— and she didn't even act like it was an accomplishment. In my two thousand years of life no one has ever beaten me at anything. Challenge wise. I've played world renown chess players— the father of chess himself, too— and they lost but she acted like she was fishing in a lake with no fish. Like it was a casual thing that happens a lot. Granted I hadn't won. But she didn't lose either.
Sage used usually cheered her brother on— by that I mean a occasional ' don't be stupid Jackson'— while using it as an excuse to watch us play. While she cheered for her brother, she always watched me, sometimes she wouldn't even watch the chess board. Just me; I knew because I caught her while I watched her too.
An odd sort of connection.
She fascinated me. The beautiful little girl who wore oversized sweaters and make-up covered bruises. Ones that no one ever saw. Or cared to look. The girl who always had her face stuck in a book.
She was a strange little girl, Sage. Smart but weird as fuck. Sometimes it looked like she was talking to someone when there was no one around. And it didn't seem like she was talking to herself like most odd people of the past two century's. It seemed like she talking to an actual invisible person. I knew she wasn't stupid enough to have imaginary friend. It didn't seem like her.
Admittedly even at seven she kind of reminded me of a demon— and ironically she could control fire.
I've heard about this other kid, Elliot, the rumors of what he does. I've watched him. He's as beautiful as her. A god in his own right. . .He can't control it.
She doesn't know about him yet, I'm going to keep it that way. Let him have a little peace of mind in his own hell hole, just for a little while before we meet.
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Once a year everyone in this Lake house was required to go to the masked award show Cape Cod hosted every year, by all our parents. My actual parent were long dead by now but I used the mist to manipulate my new parents into thinking I was there son. When we'd arrive early and I sat in my seat like a well behaved kid—though I wasn't one. The mist in normal people's eyes made me able to manipulate my appearance in there eyes and their thinking. Sage wouldn't be fooled. Those two were exactly what I was thousands of years ago. They weren't normal.
