There Will Be Shadow
Two chapters in a day! Aren't I nice ^.^
Traitor's Oaths
A silhouetted figure sat in an alleyway, its head bent low, eating what appeared to be the last remaining morsels of a meal which had more than likely been stolen from somewhere or someone. Perhaps surprisingly, the dark streets were pretty much devoid of life. The only thing the figure had seen was another homeless guy and his own reflection in the puddle in front of him. While eating, he couldn't help but keep staring at his reflection. A scarred, almost grey skinned face stared back at him, also eating, before turning its back to him as he turned away from it.
Just as he finished off the last crumbs of a piece of bread, a high pitched scream assaulted the silhouette's ears and reverberated off the walls of the pitch black alleyway. The ice blue glow of a cybernetic eye darted momentarily in the shadows, before its owner awkwardly rose onto his similarly artificial feet, surveying the area and listening for danger.
As quickly as the scream had arisen, it died back down, only to be replaced by shouting. And...laughter? A bemused expression had now formed on the figure's grey face as he tried to concentrate, his left hand thoughtfully stroking his ginger beard. A deep frown soon crossed his face when he realised the laughter was not at all pleasant, but rather that of jeering and jesting.
Baring a set of wolfish canines, the figure dashed off towards where he had heard the scream and the laughing, and it took him only a few minutes to discover the source of all the commotion: a pack of street brawlers, picking on a blue clad fighter who lay defenceless on the ground, with another, more battle scarred brawler standing above said fighter, waving a knife about in his hand. There was blood everywhere, and it didn't take long for the newcomer to realise – much to his horror – that most of it had come from the grounded fighter. Thinking quickly, he picked up a stone and hurled it at the brawler with the knife before he could bring it to bear once more on the other fighter. Hitting his target bang on the forehead, the newcomer watched half-amusedly as the hardened brawler staggered back stupidly, clutching his head and shouting all the profanities under the sun.
"You bastard traitor, you! Curse and damn your sorry ass to burn in Hell when I'm through done with you, scum!" The brawler pointed a stubby, grime ridden finger at his aggressor. "Y'all be mighty sorry that yo' ever got involved with the Brawler-Alley Boys! Get him!" The last part wasn't directed at him, the newcomer knew, but took heed of it nonetheless as no less than ten muscled and battle scarred men charged at him.
"We'll see about that one." The newcomer grunted, disappearing into the shadows, before striking out with a swift left handed uppercut from hiding, knocking three of the men out cold. He took two more out with swift kicks of his metal feet, and pummelled another with a direct left handed punch to the head, before head butting him into the last of the men, knocking them all out. His attention once more turned to the leader of the Brawler-Alley Boys when he heard a groan from the direction he had last seen him. Once more, the brawler was poised to strike the downed fighter.
"Bah! Good riddance to you! You're next after I've shanked this one, traitor bastard!" The leader of the brawlers spat.
"Step away from them." The newcomer warned him, his tone dark.
"Whatcha gonna do? Everyone 'round 'ere knows you're weak an' pathetic."
"What do you call me beating all your men down then?"
"That ain't nothing! Not true proper fighting!" The lead brawler growled.
"Step away, or you'll regret it. I'm not warning you again, I swear."
"Go rot in Hell, son of a bitch! I'd sooner rather die than move...-"
BANG!
The ear-splitting report sounded throughout the streets for all to hear; to take heed of the cold message it bought with it. The lead brawler stood paralysed, a horrified stare on his face and a bullet hole between his eyes, before he slowly fell back onto the ground beside the other, now unconscious, fighter. A short distance away, the cloaked, grey faced newcomer stood triumphantly, teeth bared and a smoking sawn-off in his left hand.
"That...can be arranged." He snorted, spinning his weapon, and placing it in a holster on his thigh. "Know this. When I swear an oath, nothing will stop me fulfilling it, not even death!"
With that declaration, he turned on the ball of his mechanical foot and prepared to walk off. Before he even took a step, he remembered the fallen fighter.
They need my help...but is this something I really want to get involved in? The man turned back around, staring at where the fighter lay, scanning for any life signs with his cybernetic left eye. The scan showed the fighter was alive, but extremely weak. They are wounded, and judging from the amount of blood, it looks serious. If I don't help them, they'll die. It was decided then. He ambled over to the fighter, crouched down beside them and shook them lightly.
"Hello? Can you hear me?" He asked in a rough voice, but it was in vain. There was no response. He shook again, a little harder. "Hello? Can you tell me your name? What...-" His final sentence was cut short when he shook a little too hard and the fighter rolled into their back.
Complete and utter horror ran rampant through him. It wasn't the scores of wounds the fighter had suffered, nor the blade stuck just under their collar bone with blood pooling around it. No. What appalled this veteran of the streets the most was the fact this fighter – this victim – was a woman. A young, pretty, blonde haired woman. As he comprehended this, he was physically sickened. All of a sudden, killing that shitbag of a brawler didn't seem as sinful anymore.
Picking her up almost bridal style with one arm, he strode off towards his patch of alleyway. Near there, he knew of a place with stuff that could help out this poor, vulnerable woman. She needed it, right now; otherwise his intervention would have been for nothing. Sighing, the man kicked open a door to a derelict building and swiftly entered. She wasn't going to die like this.
No more need die today...
He wasn't going to let her die. That was an oath.
