Sinners Playground Novels & Stories

Lara's POV* The Williams Group boardroom on the thirty-fifth floor was a long, formal room with a glass wall overlooking Midtown and a table that seated fourteen. I walked in at two fifty-eight with Xander on my left and Franklin on my right, and the room was already half-full; Mercer was seated midway down the table and gave me a small nod when I entered; Farris was at the far end reviewing papers; Solís sat near the window, her notepad open, pen uncapped.

the king said. “Of course, Sire,” the woman answered quickly. “They are in the playground , it’s their playtime.” She guided us down a series of wide corridors, the sound of children growing louder with each step. The space opened up suddenly, leading into a large outdoor area. A wide playground stretched out before us, filled with children running, shouting, laughing without restraint. Some chased each other, others played in small groups, their joy filling the entire space. Among them were familiar faces, the kids from Black Ridge. We moved closer, and the moment their eyes landed on me—

* *Name the place. I thought of the little playground two blocks over—the one with the rusty slide and the benches no one ever used because it was tucked behind an old church. No paparazzi would think to look there. No one would care. *Playground on Maple and 14th. 3 PM? Kids can play. We can talk.* *I'll be there. Bring them snacks if you want. I can stop for something.* *We have crackers.* *Then I'll bring better crackers.* A laughing emoji. Then a heart. Just one. Small. Careful.

He was hoping like hell this wasn’t some bizarre game of trust she’d concocted because he hadn’t participated in the one at the meeting again. “Ready? Keep your eyes closed.” The silken scarf slipped from his eyes, teasing him with the aroma of her perfume. “Okay. You can open them.” His eyes blinked a couple times. He looked around. Two swing sets, a jungle gym, a sandbox and monkey bars. They were in City Park. “A playground. You brought me to a playground?” “Yep. Pull up a swing.” India ran to the swing on the left and hopped on the rubber seat. She wrapped her hands around the chains and started to move, pumping her legs.

I based the entire playground on the plan that the natural playground's company drew up. The whole thing was as in the plans except Ryden asked them to add a large chessboard where kids could stand on the pieces and play together. He thought it would help the children find a common ground among each other. The entire project came together nicely, but before it could be opened, the board members had to approve and also Raiden since he is the boss and then later the government safety committee. Ryden went to roll up the plans when he was hugged from behind, unable to make himself stop from jumping up.

The Call from the Playground The next day at school was a descent into Cognitive-Horror. The playground was filled with children—hundreds of "Input-Units" living out their Rewind. Elara stood by the chain-link fence, clutching her yellow pixel inside her pocket. She felt like a ghost haunting her own childhood. Then, she saw him. A boy was sitting alone on the swings. He was wearing a striped shirt and oversized sneakers. He wasn't swinging; he was staring at the ground, his brow furrowed in a way that looked far too ancient for his face.

It was a beautiful smile indeed. “Don’t worry about that. As long as you’re behaving nicely, no one is holding you back in a room. You can do whatever you want. We have a massive library, a swimming arena, an arcade if you want to play games, golf grounds and much more for your entertainment. You are free to go anywhere. Audrey will guide you…” He stated and I sighed sceptically. “…And as far as nobody knows you, that’s not true. My grandmother and sisters are excited to meet and talk to you. Now, for the sake of your reputation, you got to behave nicely with them, okay?” He meant I shouldn’t bring up the topic of his cruelty with them, okay. I got it, but someday the truth will prevail.

So with warning bells screaming inside my head, telling me I'm about to enter a horror story or something, I accept that I don't have a choice and pull through to the brick drive in front of me. The pen-pal program my church started with the state prison was intended to help motivate inmates. It was the brainchild of our minister, who thought we would get as much out of it as the inmates. The prison chosen was a minimum-security facility and participants allowed into the program are heavily screened before being paired with members of our church. We were assured that there'd be no risk to us. Only those sentenced for non-violent crimes, who were first offenders and had good records both in p

Victor was known to find a liking for anyone with a pussy. I passed by the guards. Usually, everyone who entered had to be patted down, but they nodded at me and turned away. They knew I carried, and also knew that if they even bothered asking -I wouldn't take it too likely. The newbie who stopped me could attest for that. I met Santino in the private section. It was a few feet above the dance floor, overlooking the crowd.

“If you say so, Ma’am.” The drive took about thirty minutes. Zameera spent the whole time pressed to the window, pointing at everything. Billboards, dogs on leashes, a man selling balloons at a traffic light. I kept glancing at the rearview mirror, half expecting Zeden’s car to appear behind us like a storm cloud. We pulled up to the place Zameera had described, an upscale indoor-outdoor kids’ playground attached to a luxury mall. Bright colors, soft rubber flooring, climbing structures shaped like castles, ball pits, trampolines, even a mini Ferris wheel.