Red Dust and Neon
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Listing Series
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Summary
There are three things in this world that cannot be hidden: poverty, a cough, and a possessiveness that seeps into the very marrow of one's bones.
The wind in Las Vegas always carries the scent of red clay, scorched by a relentless sun, mingling with the drifting aroma of expensive Cuban cigars from the penthouses of the grand casinos. Here, everyone is a gambler. Some bet their fortunes, others their lives—and then there are those who bet on the ownership of a soul.
When Quackity first saw Sam, he thought he was looking at a shield. A shield that was towering, frigid, and impenetrable; one that held back the alcohol-stench of Schlatt’s violence and the darkest malice this city had to offer.
He was too young then to understand that in this world, all "protection" comes with a price tag clearly marked.Sam offered him safety, at the cost of his freedom.
Schlatt offered him power, at the cost of his dignity.
And Wilbur offered him madness, at the cost of his peace.They all sought to lock him away in different cages—some gilded, some forged of iron, others woven from the fine silk of terror.
Series
- Part 1 of Red Dust and Neon
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Summary
The prequel to The House Never Cries (Sam’s POV)
Bang. Bang. Bang—
The crisp gunshots shattered the silence of the wilderness. Glass shards refracted the moonlight into countless shimmering rays, like a brief shower of falling stars.
"A perfect score." Quackity clapped, laughing like a true child. "You’re amazing, Sam. What else can these hands do besides holding guns and catching people?"
Sam holstered his weapon. As he watched the boy dancing in the moonlight, the illusion of "eloping" reached its zenith in his heart. He wanted to say: These hands also want to hold you. They want to tear you away from this red dirt. They want to kill anyone who dares look at you.
But he simply lowered his head, his voice swallowed by the wind.
"They can also drive for you, sir."
Series
- Part 2 of Red Dust and Neon
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Tags
Summary
The prequel to The House Never Cries (Schlatt’s POV)
Schlatt leaned down, cupping Quackity’s chin with one hand, forcing the teary, confused eyes to look at him. "But remember one thing, Q. In this city, no one gives you a gift for no reason. Behind every piece of candy they give you, there is a price tag on your life."
Quackity was startled by the sudden gravity. Looking at the twenty-four-year-old Schlatt, he felt the man was frighteningly strange, yet he possessed an irresistible pull.
"Including you?" Quackity asked timidly, his voice like a mosquito. "If you give me things, do you want my life too?"
Schlatt froze. Looking into those eyes—pure, without a trace of malice—a dark corner of his heart was nudged.
"I don't want your life." Schlatt gave a cruel, mesmerizing smile. His fingers moved up, gently covering the red mark on Quackity’s neck, his touch as light as if he were stroking a work of art. "I want you to owe me. I want you to know that for the rest of your life, no matter where you go, when you look back, the only thing you see is me."
Series
- Part 3 of Red Dust and Neon