Outsiders 소설 & 이야기

She had never set foot in a place like this before—it was completely outside her world. The slums were small, and any outsider stood out like a sore thumb, especially someone like Marah. Dressed in her expensive outfit, she looked completely out of place. A group of women, sitting in the shade snacking on sunflower seeds, turned their heads to stare at her with curiosity. “Who’s that?” “No idea. Looks like she’s about to film a movie or something.” Hearing their hushed whispers, Marah rolled her eyes in frustration. The heat was unbearable, her patience was wearing thin, and she just wanted to get what she came for and leave.

Bellatrix Sinclair “Outsiders aren’t allowed.” The guard stated, motioning for the people behind me to enter. Stepping to the side, scanning the way regular people entered without invitation. Some even high-fived the guard, drinks in hand and masks fully decked in different colours. After a few minutes, one man stood out from the crowd. He wore a crimson-coloured three-piece suit with blackout sunglasses and pitch-black hair sleeked back. The guard stopped him, “Outsiders aren’t allowed.” He repeated robotically.

But when I returned home, there was a six-foot lump huddled up on the floor outside my building. Its eyes were red from crying. Among the ornamental flowers by the door, the note saying "Suppress Your Desires" now seemed especially prominent. Had his girlfriend left him? Seeing me return—the lump—Brook, stood up and fled upstairs to the communal rooftop area of our building. He wouldn't jump off, would he? It couldn't be that serious. She's only a girl. I could go find her for you and help smooth things over, I thought. ... It was quite windy on the rooftop and he was tall and slender. He couldn't have weighed much.

My bones nearly cracked from the impact as it slammed against the hard floor. I glared at the crowd of people who'd been my family for the first 20 years of my life, now threatening and beating me up all for the sake of an outsider, and felt my heart turn to stone. I wiped the blood from the corner of my lips and glared daggers at them. "I'm going to call the police! Not a single one of you is getting out alive!" Isaac was even more enraged by this. He kicked me hard in the back and thundered, "The police! To hell with that, you stubborn old bitch! I'm going to fucking beat you black and blue!"

"The moment you erased my existence in front of outsiders all those years ago, you should have known a day like this would come." The other end went silent for two seconds, then the line went dead. I tucked my phone away expressionlessly and went back to watering the plants. Isabella poked her head out from upstairs and barked, "How long does it take to water a few damn flowers? Do you think water is free?" I gave her an apologetic smile before turning off the hose, and the hallway fell back into dead silence. Late that night, trouble still found its way to my door. Several luxury cars pulled up along the shabby street, and the whole family—flanked by bodyguar

The lights in the west corridor flickered twice before stabilizing. Elias noticed because he had learned to notice everything that shifted before it was acknowledged. Infrastructure had tells. So did systems under strain. So did people. The day began with reassignment. Not announced. Not justified. Names were called in a sequence that felt incidental until Elias heard his own and understood the pattern retroactively. He was moved from the seam to the periphery—close enough to matter, far enough to suggest relief. Reallocation. The word surfaced unbidden. It fit.

I was about to eat some stolen fruit when I heard a tree branch break nearby. I quickly hid behind a tree. I grabbed my knife, ready to attack whoever it was. "Come on, come out. I see you, pretty girl. Surrender to us or this won't end well for you if we decide to use our strength," I heard one of the three men say. From their foul smell, I knew they were outsiders. They smelled bad because most outsiders didn't bother to bathe and clean themselves. "We're asking you nicely, dear. Come out while you still can," I heard a man say.

Pain radiates through my body, but the adrenaline holds it back, at least for now. “Please, my queen. Their words do not harm me,” the soft words, spoken in the language of home are almost lost in the cacophony of sound that pulses around us. “Outsider this, outsider that,” I spit out, the room growing eerily quiet as the rest of the wolves listen. I glare at each of them, my eyes following them around the room. “Here you are, happy to use the outsiders for all you can, but never let them feel safe here. Never let them put down roots or feel like they belong. Just use. Use. Use.”

Closing it gently behind us, Sassy and I make our way out of the old packhouse and a little way into the forest, without so much as a glance at each other. I turn before she can send me a glare that demands privacy and take a few steps away from her. Biting into my apple, I watch blankly as the pack slowly begins to wake up—wolves and witches making their way through the streets in the direction of whatever their days have in store for them.

And Callum stepped off the last step. They sat on the hood of his car. Side by side, close enough that their arms touched along the full length from shoulder to elbow, the specific unhurried contact of people who had stopped pretending proximity was accidental. Neither of them moved away. The street was quiet. The streetlamp above them was doing the amber October thing and the night was cold enough that being outside required a reason. They both had a reason.