The Riot Club

Wicked /'wikid'/ Adjective Evil or morally wrong "A wicked and unscrupulous politician" Synonyms: evil, sinful, immoral, wrong, morally wrong, wrongful, bad, iniquitous, corrupt, base, mean, vile, more In this case: Wicked Kids Friends with psychotic tendencies trapped in their own minds. Mature content: - mature language - dark theme - explicit scenes - abuse (drugs, parents, siblings) - trigger If any of that bothers at your own risk.


1. foreword



"When Earth cracks open and swallows

Then we'll never be tired again

And we'll be given everything

The moment we realize we're not in control." 

Chelsea Wolfe (The Waves Have Come) 


 It was too late to back out, she realized, once she noticed the devilish twinkle in the eyes of the dark-haired girl, who walked a little further from the others. She was already infatuated with the object clasped in her hands. Ripping it away from her now would be like taking a toy from a ferocious beast. Stupid and suicidal. Silver metal gleamed as she swayed the bat side-to-side. It was as if it was teasing---now; mocking her----reminding her that she caused this chaos waiting to unfold at the touch of the ruthless girl in front of her. Blaise seemed to be enjoying herself way too much. She seemed to have no conscious. Not a sliver of a thought on the aftermaths of her---their---actions. 

She began to wonder if they ever did.  

The villa stood under the dim streetlight. The bulb seemed to be the only one malfunctioning compared to the row of streetlights in the neighborhood. Perhaps, it was a sign. A sign from the gods. That the justice they were about to enforce was justified by the superiors of the world. But it made no difference to the group whether or not they got anybodies approval. They had one and only goal for tonight. And it was revenge. Everything else could burn in the pits of the fiery underworld for all they cared.  

"Pops," Blaise called out quietly to the girl with the strawberry blonde hair tied up into a fashionable bun. Pops was huddled near the younger boy. He seemed to remarkably resemble a few facial features of the girl, but she knew very well the two weren't blood related. She watched as the girl directed her attention to Blaise, the reckless girl with a gleaming smile on her face. "Hold this while I climb."  

It was beginning. The horns of war were calling and the city was rising. She could feel the heated energy burn around her, the feel of rebellion bubbling in their pits, the defiance of conformity, and the vengeances of the betrayers. She took a step back. However, she was unsure why she made the simple gesture to flee. She wasn't oblivious to the plan. She knew very well of the actions taken place to day. Yet all her instincts told her to flee from the flames. Simply, because she was too afraid to get burned.  She didn't get to far, considering she ran into a familiar chest, and large hands that grasped onto her arms tightly. She wasn't sure if it was for her own balance or for his own rage. 

"Where do you think you're going, Venus?" Cyrus asked gently.  


The dark haired girl hoisted herself up on the trunk of the car. Her white smile glowing with excitement.While they watched the scene crumble beneath them, Cyrus brushed his lips to her ear. The soft touch of his bottom lip teasingly runs by her ear lobe. His eyes darkened into a shade of lust when he felt her shudder because of his touch. "Don't answer," He whispered. "I know, and I understand. When I met these guys, I thought they were all loony, too." Blaise quietly crawled her way up the top of the car until she was able to slowly balance her weight on her feet. "And don't get me wrong, I was right. They are most definitely the craziest kids I've ever met. Batshit crazy." The girl opened her hand, gesturing for the object now being placed into her hand by Pops. "But then I realized, aren't we all, in some sort of way? Crazy, that is. Who was I to judge? Normality shouldn't be defined by anyone, especially the hypocrites at our school." Blaise breathed in heavily, stretching her arms over her hand. The metal bat is reaching over her shoulder. "We have only one rule---well, if you could call it that---" And, just as fast as the dark haired girl pulled back, she just as easily slammed the bat on the windshield. The glass had no chance compared to the force of the beating. It caved in on itself at the very touch. 

"Nobody fucks with the Riot Club." 


A group of friends with psychotic tendencies. 

(Has some mythology in it if you haven't noticed.)


@2016, K.S

All rights reserved. 

Don't copy it or I'll make your life a living hell. Simple as that. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...