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゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤             pilot             ﹥*:ꔫ:*+゚

    Beverly and Tate sat in their old room playing cards when they heard a car pull up

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    Beverly and Tate sat in their old room playing cards when they heard a car pull up. They look at each other before Beverly throws her cards to the ground and walks to the window with Tate not that far behind her. When they look out they see an older couple, a young girl--around their age--a dog, and the realtor for the house.

"This isn't going to end well." Beverly states.

﹥*:ꔫ:*+゚

     "So, Tate, Beverly, these fantasies started two years ago, three years ago, when?" Violets dad-- Ben, who is a psychiatrist--questions them as they sat in his office.

"Two years ago. It's always the same. It starts the same way." Tate answers.

"How? Tell me."

"We prepare for the nobel war." Beverly smiles.

"We're calm, we know the secret, we know what's coming and we know no one can stop us, including ourselves."
Tate began to explain.

"Do you target people who have been mean to you or unkind?"

"We kill people we like." Beverly sits criss-cross applesauce on the couch playing with the sleeve of her ripped  sweater.

"Some of them beg for their life. We don't feel sad. We don't feel anything. It's a filthy world we live in. It's a filthy goddamn helpless world, and honestly, we feel like we're helping to take them away from the shit and the piss and the vomit that run in the streets."

"We're helping to take them somewhere clean and kind." Beverly inturupts, Tate nods at her before continuing "There's something about all that blood, man. We drown in it."

"The Indians believed that blood holds all the bad spirits." Beverly starts and blows a piece of hair from her face. "And once a month in ceremonies they would cut themselves to let the spirits go free. There's something smart about that. Very smart. I like that. We like that. " She starts to smile while grabbing her brothers hand, and looks up, but quickly looks back down as she sees her and her brother covered in blood behind Ben.

"You think we're crazy?" Tate asks him holding tightly to Beverly's hand.

"No. I think you're creative. And I think you two have a lot of pain you're not dealing with."

"Our mother's probably worried about us, right?"

"I'm sure she is." Ben nods

"She's a cocksucker." Beverly suddenly says looks toward Tate.
"I mean literally, a cocksucker. She used to suck the guy off next-door, all the time.Our dad found out, and he left."

"He left us alone with a cocksucker. Can you imagine? How sick is that?" Tate questions while smiling.

"I've heard a lot worse." Ben reassures.

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