Outcasts

A Broken Inferno

This is Isaac's story. It's gonna feel a little all over the place. That's the kind of guy, the kind of storyteller Isaac is. He is messy and chaotic, and deep down a good person. This story takes place right at the end of In Hell We Dance, and so he will reference some people. He might not explain everything, but I hope you appreciate the story for what it is. At the very least, you get a taste of the kind of... interesting character Isaac is. :)

They ask for oblivion, and I give it to 'em.

You can call them marks. You can call them suckers, or nothing at all. Sex is sex, and I eat all my candy. I ain't got no shame and I never—repeat, never look back. Where's the fun in that?

Trevor is cute. He stutters a lot, but damn, that jawline. His nose is squishy and cute. Can't imagine he's here looking for a devil like me, but that's what he's got. He has something I want, and I'll take it. And hell if he doesn't get the night of his life.

I travel this road... there's no coming back. But I don't care. I made my choice. So did he. This is the beginning of a bloody beautiful end.

***

Insert eleven months of pain, heartbreak, gunfire and mayhem. I strung along a lot of good people. And it all started with Trevor. It all started with him.

Actually, it started with a promise to myself to end the cause of all mum's pain. He fled halfway across the world to escape his guilt. And I followed.

But Trevor is where I started this terrible, dark path for real. There was no going back after that. And I owe it to him to explain. To atone.

Shit, I don't know. I just need closure on that part of my life. You can understand that, right?

***

I only had two priorities. To live. And then when I found Connor, to die. Die the way I wanted. In a paradise of my own making. I'd given up on the reason I lied to mum that day.

I made Hell, a nightclub born from my own darkest mind. I hurt so many others, and I found people who were worth trying for. Who it would hurt to say goodbye to. Fuck, that hits deep. I'm not ready to leave just yet. Got one more thing on the menu. It might seem small, but it's not. You'll see.

***

Can't say it's been great. Almost a year in this cold-ass country. It almost became my home. Not that good ol' America ever was. It just... Shit, it felt a little more like home with mum. Hold tight, aye, ma. I'm done running. I'll make you proud like I promised. And I'll be the big bro Lilly deserves. Yeah. Sounds like a plan.

Let me go reel this shit back for you. Yo, I'm Isaac. I'm twenty-three last time I counted. Haven't, uh, haven't had a reason to... count the last few years. On my own, you see. And uh...

Shit. Let me start again. Man, I just get all depressed and shit when I think too hard about my scars.

See, I don't know what home is. Like I said before, this place, the UK... with Connor, it was a decent place to crash. But the concept of one place you're rooted to? Nah, that ain't me. Mum always had us moving from one apartment to the next. And then the motels. She was always in between jobs. And even a twelve-year-old me knew shit was bad. But I didn't care. The days were my own. The streets were mine. The bad things a kid shouldn't get involved in... I found my way to em all. Rough sorts. People with colour and fire and no shits given. Rum, whiskey and cocktails to really fuck you over. Cocaine. Some real hard stuff. The line keeps on growing. Or shrinking. Depending on how you choose to look at it.

I guess I was figuring myself out cause girls turned me on. And guys. And, fuck. Like, you can have a dick or whatever you got going on between your legs, I. Do. Not. Care. I don't. I got no restrictions. All I ask is you have a good time. And that in turn means I have a good time. And then I go home... uh, whichever motel we're squatting at that particular night, and I curl up with mum on bed and watch cartoons until I fall asleep. The smell of Subway always gets me, tickles me from my dreams. Or fried rice. That too. Everything is a delicacy when you've got nothing.