Chapter Eleven: Alleyway
The ex-Brooklyn now Queens boy turned and motion towards his boys. Nicknamed Ill-fated Assasin for his involvement in the deaths of prominent figures in both the old Brooklyn gang, and in the Queens gang back when Trigger had first come into power. Assasin was only half an inch under six feet, and he liked to think that his 150 pounds was all muscle. A smirk drew across his face as he reached the head of the alley and saw that Wicked (who's old name had been Win) stood just across the street. This time that goon'll see who's boss... he thought bitterly.
He waved back to his boys to follow him, and right as he was about to charge Wicked, a voice suddenly hissed at him out of nowhere.
"Alibi..." it called. "Remembah me's Alibi? Sweet... Innocent... Young... Remembah me's? Da lil goil you killed!"
Assasin's eyes grew wide with both surprise and fear. He hadn't been called Alibi in four years. At least not by anyone who'd know what he'd done... "I'se nevah killed a goil! 'Specially no lil one," he shouted to nothingness. He had no idea where the voice was coming from.
"True...I'se not exactly a goil. But you did kill me. Crushed me... An' yas have killed goils befoah... 'Membah Felicity Bates?"
Assasin gulped and licked his lips. Suddenly he felt a breath on the back of his neck and turned to face his clearly puzzled group of boys.
"Toin around," a voice right behind his head said in a deadly whisper. It was a different voice than the first one.
Assasin did as the voice commanded and came face-to-face with someone he'd helped assassinate. "Spot!" he screamed out in fear and surprise. "How...What...But...You'se dead!"
The boy before him rolled his eyes. "I'se not Spot foah one t'ing. An' foah annudah, you'se need ta get yer eyes checked if you'se t'ought da path ta Wicked was cleah."
"Who are ya den?" Assasin demanded, pissed at the boy for scaring him.
"Yer woist nightmare. Dat's who." The boy slammed his fist full into Assasin's face. "Or you'se can call me Watson," he yelled as he began fighting the group.
Across the street, a girl with blackish-brown hair and a grin that could knock you off your feet was approaching Wicked when she saw the commotion in the alley. Her grin widened as she saw the odds. One on five. But suddenly she began scowling as she realized the five were Queens boys. Oh d'ose doity rotten... I'll show dem! she though viciously and launched herself across the street and into the fight.
Assasin and the other Queens boys had the boy who called himself Watson cornered, and Assasin was reaching for his brass knuckles when a new fist suddenly collided with his skull. Screaming in fury he spun around to find himself face-to-face with a girl he knew had the name Alleyway, and was one of Manhattan's premier fighters (and gamblers), even though she was a little on the short side. Alleyway was known for being tough and never giving up, no matter what. She was also known for going against all odds, no matter how rough.
A brass-knuckled hand suddenly collided with the back of his head, making his vision lose focus for a moment. One kick to the back of his knees was all it took for the boy named Watson to bring Assasin down. Together, he and Alleyway took at the rest of the gang before Watson disappeared into thin air before Alley could even congratulate him on a good fight.