Set Voland--a homeless young man who attacked a child in the midst of hallucinations--has been caught by the police and sent to a psychiatric hospital. There, he's stricken by a meeting with a Shining White Being who will completely overturn his lif...
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24. THE DEMON SAID: "IF THEY AREN'T DEAD, YOU CAN STILL KILL THEM."
If you could flick a switch and open your third eye
You'd see that we should never be afraid to die
So, come on
Rise up and take the power back.
(Uprising, Muse)
On Thursday, after his—now lavishly usual—morning bath, Set walked into the living room, aiming for the kitchen. The late night's wine had left his stomach growling. He wanted to taste a good hot breakfast, but what caught his eye, instead of Maria arranging croissants and coffee on the terrace's table, was a man in a white suit and Panama hat.
He had his back turned to Set and was absorbed into the task of rearranging the contents of a black briefcase, placed over the dark wooden surface. The perfectly fitting suit boosted his Asian built—broad, straight shoulders and narrow hips culminating in long legs—giving him a lean, natty figure, while the hat added that touch of eccentricity that befitted Sybil the most. Even from the back, he seemed taller and more imposing than usual.
The boy patted his shoulder and the briefcase shut closed with a clank before the man turned around to face him. A pair of small round glasses rested upon his straight nose.
"Good morning, Set," he said gently as a soft smile curved his lips.
The boy glanced at the bag behind Sybil's back, then his eyes trailed over the man's body, scanning him from head to toe. Dressed up as a creepy businessman—as beautiful as he might be—the man looked like Sybil's evil twin.
"What are you doing?" the boy asked, raising his brows and skipping the small talk.
"I've got a ten-thirty tea time with an old client of mine," Sybil replied smoothly, his voice taking a twist to the businessman style too.
Set drew a step closer. "Is this a tie?" He wrapped his fingers around the black cloth, sliding them down the silky fabric until it slipped all out of the elegant, white jacket.
"So it seems." A soft chuckle escaped Sybil's pearly-pink lips.
Set had the impression that the man disliked western clothing and couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with his look. "Why are you hiding your hair?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Sybil slipped his right hand inside the jacket, ignoring the question. He took out a dark leather wallet and stretched a hundred bucks toward the boy, making Set's eyebrows twitch further—the poor Oracle never dealt with petty cash.
