[img] http://i.imgur.com/IkzfWCL.jpg [/img]

A muted television lit up an otherwise darkened room. Slender fingers curled round the door frame. Blue eyes scanned the now deserted living room nervously. The teen smoothed his windbreaker and readjusted his backpack. The bag was sagging from the combined weight of 12 bottles of beer, 5 boxes of assorted pop tarts, 1 large bag of Maltesers and 1 packet of cigarettes. The alcohol and cigarettes came from his dad’s secret stash that only his mom was oblivious of. He was pretty sure that those weren’t considered snacks, but most of the others seem to enjoy them. Joni took a step back. Part of him wanted to go back to his room and sleep till morning. The other remembered that he promised he will be there. He still had no idea why Sloth wanted to meet at this hour. She didn’t seem like the type of girl to like sleepovers. 

There was no sign of the other person. As far as he can see. Soft snoring coming room two doors away confirmed that she was already fast asleep. Beathan unbolted the front door and snuck out. [i]Things never seem to go right whenever he tried to be extra careful.[/i] The door slammed shut the moment he let go. Instantly he bolted down the empty corridor and ran down the stairs. The boy looked determinedly ahead as he rushed out of the building. Only after boarding a taxi was he able to relax a little. He stifled a yawn. Hopefully no one would noticed he was only wearing a windbreaker over his pajamas and a pair of sneakers. He almost walked out with his bedroom slippers. 

[Approximately 1:40 am]

[i]Sloth had to be joking![/i] A fight in the middle of the night? Seriously! Beathan wasn’t sure if it was the sugar high, a sleep induced stupor, the tiny bit of vodka he tried or a combination of all three but he was following the rest of the gang as they trooped after their leader towards their assigned post. He cleared his throat and zipped up his windbreaker. [i]Why was he even doing this? He shouldn’t be here![/i] Still not a word passed through his lips despite the dread he felt. He watched as Sloth and then Pride hurl themselves into the fray. His eyes were suddenly more alert than they were the entire night. [i]Holy shit![/i]

Mere seconds. Just mere seconds later a rival gang member charged towards him with a knife. He stood riveted with almost morbid fascination as the guy slashed at him. He raised his hand a little too late. The edge bit into his skin slicing both his cheek and his palm. Crimson rivulets flowed down his face and palm. He reeled backwards and fell, scrapping his other palm in the process. His current opponent was still bearing down upon him. 

“What the hell!” 

That was his first and only utterance the entire time. His mind went blank as anger replaced the initial shock he felt. The only thing he remembered afterwards was a loud explosion. Somehow he was still alive and the fight was over. His attacker was nowhere to be seen. [i]How did he even get away from that crazy guy?[/i] 

The pain returned in full and Joni hissed. He leaned forward to steady himself and the knife slipped from his loose grasp. The sound of metal hitting and clattering on the ground almost made him jump out of his skin. He stared at the knife completely unaware of his bloody hands and the numerous other cuts peeked from underneath the remains of his windbreaker sleeves. Was that [i]his[/i] blood? He felt sick. 

Shell shocked and confused Wrath allowed himself to be ushered along inside. There was a loud ringing in his ears as some of the seven were sent flying god knows where. He cracked his eyes open and peered from behind his arms which he had lifted to shield his face. Thick acrid smoke was pouring throughout the room. Tears filled his eyes as the black mist enveloped him. He heard coughing and then he knew no more. 

[Present, Sinner’s HQ]

The world was starting to spin and the room is getting unbearably warm. Then there was blood almost soaking through. Minor cuts but they won’t stop bleeding. Joni stood up abruptly. He yelled something (which sounded like a garbled version of ‘gotta go’) and he staggered drunkenly towards the door leaving his backpack behind. Nothing was registering in his mind. He couldn’t care less about what the others thought. He just wanted to get home. 

He stepped off yet another curb but was forced to retreat as a loud horn sounded. Confused Joni stared at the angry driver glaring at him. Soundless words issuing from the man’s mouth. Without thinking he opened the door and slide in. [i]This was a taxi after all and he had cash.[/i] The boy ended sitting next to an elderly couple. He gave them a lop-sided smile and murmured something as he closed the door before passing out for the third time that night. He was very lucky that he was nowhere near the headquarters at that time.