sinisterkid
Cover image
Synopsis
Quaders………………………………………………………
Four has the body of a gorgeous middle-eastern woman, but the mind of a small child and abilities that organisations all over the world covet. Her whole life she has lived in the white room that belongs to her, her two brothers, and her sister, but all changes when her siblings get the notion that escape is the best path to take.
The Toy Girl and a Train……………………………………
Thirteen years ago, scientist Soz Datel Devushka quit his job at the prestigious Nova Tech research center, taking all his secrets along with him. He bought a toy shop and invested his university degree in making trinkets for children alongside his only daughter, Olovo, who begins to rebel against the man she calls 'Father' as a strange impulse to see the trains takes over her.
The Mentalist’s End………………………………………….
Noia has grown up in the role of a mentalist in a travelling carnival, trained by her mother and her mother before her. After having her children ripped from her womb by a shady organisation, she lives for the moment where they will return, looking to end the one, lonely soul who knew about the operation.
Little Killer……………………………………………………….
Morie looks like your typical teenager, a little on the weird side with her white highlight, but just as obnoxious as the normal adolescent with her incessant gum chewing and headphones in her ears. Morie, though, has intentions no one on the bus she rides could possibly expect. With a needle in her coat pocket, she wait for her target to board the bus.
Excerpt
When people think of a mentalist, they think of the men with those little Fu Manchu moustaches that dangled on the side of their faces like little hairy snakes. They think of men wearing strange tunics of every bright color, with mystical designs, encrusted with jewels and with tassels hanging off of every edge possible. They thought of con artists, modern prophets, and lunatics sipping on absinthe.
What they certainly didn’t think of was me, practically just turned woman, with my long, sweeping chocolate brown hair and my large, anxious eyes. They did not think of me sitting on a little chair in a little trailer. I didn’t even look gypsy-like, which seemed to be expected of traveling people, the new, contemporary nomads of the United States. They expected me to have the olive skin of the stereotypical televised Romani, they expected me to have hair black as night and eyes like dark abysses. In all truth, I looked quite American, as did most of the others in our caravan, though we did have a few eastern Europeans that fit the bill.
I don’t think that in the end it mattered much what race I was in the end, or the race of my mother and her mother before her. We were all very successful, extremely gifted mentalists, both in the theatrics of the whole ordeal as well as the real exertion required. The exoticisms most people longed to see when they visited our little carnival was only truly mandatory for the dancing girls, the girls who danced with no, or barely any, clothes on. In some ways I admired the courage of those girls, showing every bit of themselves to the crowd of men in a completely unashamed fashion, but their lack of reticence irritated me, especially when they candidly took customers into their trailers.
Though I was considered as free-spirit by my close family as well as some of the elders, I would never have been able to maintain the sort of brazenness and rebellious image that the show girls had. My biggest offence was stealing a basket of bread from a neighbour or a gnome from someone’s lawn, not stealing a stranger’s wallet. My grand transgression was staying out until the early hours of the morning, not letting a man with no name enter me for money.
I didn’t like the presence of the dancing girls, but I knew I had next to no choice. What could I do? I would never survive outside of the carnival. I had no education, no experience in anything but divination, and no chance.
