Torn Aside

Hey people, sorry I haven't updated anything in a while; exams have taken over and I've been totally bereft of ideas. So, here, just for you, is a little one shot with Torn, before Jak came along and after he was in the Guard.

Torn sat down atop a box and sighed. The day was slowing and the Underground were not progressing with any new material or information. Attempts at seizing such information had failed so drastically: Torn lost three men to death and a further two because they were afraid to continue with any of the plans in which had taken months to fine tune. Fear... fear was the very emotion in which Torn had much experience with... too much.

Torn moved his feet to the beat of his heart which was ringing in his ears, making him feel sick and light headed. He was in a reflective mood... a dangerous emotion when embedded in his mind. Frustrated, he cupped his ears with his hands and rested his head on his knees. Why was nothing working..? He remembered being in the Krimzon Guard... only a few years ago... and sheer fear he felt when in it. Sure... he was the one enforcing the law, but he was afraid. It only took one attack from a Metal Head group and he would of been sent out to the front line like some sort of animal to fight... suicide. The Krimzon Guard used brutality to police the city in which he was now fighting for. Torn's thoughts were scrambled.

Finally sitting up, Torn flicked through hand drawn maps and notes. Nothing made sense, some maps contradicted others and none of his men wanted to put themselves on the line in order to obtain some more reliable information. The city was lost... Nothing they did was doing any good, and if anything, it was making it all worse. Torn depressive look was interrupted when one of his men came staggering in, helped along by a woman. Standing up, Torn's first thoughts were that said man was hurt, but it came immediately to his attention that he was in fact pissed. The woman dropped him onto one of the beds and handed Torn a note before walking back out onto the dangerous streets in which he hated so much.

Great... Torn thought, screwing the note up in his fist and throwing it violently at a picture of Erol; which was stuck to the wall with several knives piercing its glossy finish. Krew had called for him. Nothing could of made his day any worse. .. apart from... never mind. Torn sighed and strode outside, where he mounted a zoomer and left.

Twenty five minutes, three road blocks and an almost arrest later, Torn pulled up outside the Hip Hog Heaven Saloon and slid off the zoomer. Why did Krew want to see him? Usually, he was the one draining information from him, not the other way around. Cautiously, Torn peered around the door-frame, only to be greeted by a smashed up bar, broken glass and a very hot 'n' heavy looking Krew floating around.

"What happened?" Torn asked, voice raspy, arms folded.

"I can't seem to remember..." Krew acted, purposely placing the back of his hand on his head in a drama queen fashion. "The last thing I saw was an old man..." He was truly playing on it now, but whatever had happened, it wasn't any concern of Torn's, he didn't even care. The only reason he kept in contact with Krew was because, at the right times, he was a great source of information for the Underground. These days, anything Torn could get his hands on was gold dust towards the fight for the city.
"Get to the point." Torn spat, leaning onto one of the tables that was still in tact.

"There was a bit of a fight between an old looking man and Commander Erol earlier on. Which reminds me... the Commander is looking for you... Something about being dead if he just happens to run into you. All good fun, eh?" Krew wheezed. His tiny little legs were dangling and swinging around, making Torn frown.

"Hmm..." Torn pondered. How could an old man cause so much trouble?

"I know what your thinking. What's an old tree root like me doing causing so much trouble?" Torn span on the spot and faced the door. Stood a mere three feet off the ground was an odd looking man, in his mid fifties, with a bush for hair and a log impaled through it. A small beard accompanied his face and strapped to his feet were what seemed to be logs. Torn stood there for a moment or two, simply staring at the seemingly frail-ish man who had caused all this mess and destruction. This old man took a few steps forward and revealed what appeared to be a staff made of wood, held tightly in his hands. Torn drew the blade from its pocket in the back of his shirt and stroked it carefully with the edge of his thumb;

"I'd watch what your doing..." He warned, grinning a devilish grin at the man. He was now the one inflicting fear... and yet, deep inside, he too felt fearful.

"Don't be so aggressive, lad." The old man spoke, casually walking past Torn. He sat atop a few boxes and smiled. "I have a lot of information for you."

"Why?" Torn taunted... he wasn't giving in easily to the man, he obviously wanted something.

"There's no need for it." The old man stood up again and walked towards Torn. Once he reached him, he looked up and at his odd choice of threads. "Well, lad... I can help you, if you want to take it. But if you do, it will be conditioned." Torn had to admit he was intrigued, and if it did turn out this old man was some sort of assassin, he wouldn't really care, life was going badly anyway.

"What are your conditions?" Torn eventually asked, looking up at the now snoring Krew.

"I shall be known only as The Shadow" The old man stared at the door behind them.

"Fine." Torn growled, there was certainly something odd about the old man, he just couldn't figure out what.

There was a sudden gust of wind as the door swung open and a short man with flame coloured hair and a different uniform walked in.

"Freeze!" He shouted, cocking his pistol towards Torn's head. "Well, well... If it isn't our little runaway?" The Commander spoke, lifting up his face-shield to get a better look at the Scene in front of him. "Oh! The little troublemaker is here also, the Baron will be intrigued to meet you... and find out your secrets!" He threatened, with venom in his voice.

"Fuck off, Erol." Torn warned, holding his knife close to his chest.

"Language..." He warned. "I wouldn't want to arrest you now, would I?"

"Come on, boys, lets sort this naturally. Friendship should be like a freshly bloomed cherry blossom tree..." The Shadow began, before being interrupted.

"Ram it, old man!" Erol shouted, immediately silencing him. "I don't have time for your stupid games."

"I have no games." The Shadow spoke, lifting up his staff. There was mere seconds between The Shadow lifting his staff and smashing the Commander over the head, followed by the all too familiar sound of a body hitting the floor. Torn was both shocked and disappointed. He always wanted to clobber Erol around the head... There was no other Krimzon guards in the area, so as swift as Erol had hit the floor, Torn rushed out of the Hip Hog and dragged The Shadow behind him.

Maybe this old tree root would come in useful...