Cold Smoke

An eye for an eye

Disclaimer: I do not own Fable or its characters - Winter is my OC.

AN: Hey guys I apologise for the short chapter ~ also please note that you aren't supposed to know much about the situation before you believe it to be exposition c:

Also be aware that there is drug mention and gore in this chapter ~
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Bloodstone had always been the home to indulgers and thieves alike, coexisting in a debauched town surrounding the port. Travellers and merchants were always offered uncouth pleasures: rich wines, scandalously dressed men and women promising a session of their time and trade, and undoubtedly a night well spent.

Day after day these events unfolded, relentlessly sucking the wealth from rich people's wallets to render them brassic. Profit was profit, regardless of how immoral their actions had to be in order to earn it.

Oftentimes a drink, some gambling and a well-endowed woman on the lap wasn't enough to stimulate certain people of the evening. Of course, other alternatives were available, but no doubt, illegal to possess.

The usual narcotics had disappeared from Bloodstone's existence, stimulants and depressants were just words and addicts had to face the reality of their withdrawals alone.

For decades the town remained clean, without a trace of anything and the partying went on, almost sadly. Notwithstanding the fact the amount of travellers decreased immensely, the town reluctantly accepted it as a good thing.

However, not long after declaring their ten year mark of abstinence from the narcotisation of the town, a new found sugary delight crept into the laws files.

A new drug appeared, unlike anything they had seen before, with dire effects in overdosing. Taking the name Melice for its sweetness, this strong, smokable herbal concoction became the new delicacy in the town, with prices for it soaring higher and higher as the law tried to hunt it down and take it out.

The untraceable cartel in which Melice belong to remained incognito within the city itself, making to an exclusive indulgence to the natives. The partying continued, and this new found industry became a dark yet pleasurable secret. Passing the small envelopes of the herbs around almost seemed like a mission for some, but the result gave a short burst of stimulation.

And thus, the Melice drug wriggled its way to the top, making Bloodstone the place to party once more.

⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰      ⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰      ⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰      ⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰      ⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰      ⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰⃰     

  The shuffling of feet gritted against the cobblestones of the back-alleyway network of the town, with grunting and angry panting echoing, bouncing off the narrow and damp walls.

A gang of men circled a younger and clearly shorter man, dragging him up from the floor and pinning him against the wall, the collision of his back against the stone expressed through his sharp yelp. His teeth gritted as some of the men backed away for one particular man to step forward.

An older man - in his late forties - with slicked back dark grey hair ambled up towards him, sucking his teeth. He slipped a cigarette into his mouth, ripping a match across the wall to light it. Taking a long draw of smoke, he removed it, exhaling it straight into the younger man's face, with a sinister groan.

"You've caused me quite a bit of 'assle," he started, "me and my men."

The Bloodstone accent was rather distinct; whistling their 'S's and dropping their 'H's.

The young man remained silent, only choking out a silent curse as his perpetrator's fist was driven into his stomach, and saliva ran down his chin.

Chuckling, the man grabbed his face, forcing him to look in his eyes. "What's yer name, son?" he grinned sardonically. "What do people call little shits like you?"

Silence.

"Come on, kid. Have some manners and answer your superiors," he asked again. "My name is Karawan, and you are...?"

In his mind, the boy answered, "Winter, you tosser," but he found some pleasure in being antagonising, even if it did cost him a few punches to the gut.

His internal monologue flashed a smile on his face, and he accumulated what saliva he had previously choked up, hawking it straight into this man's right eye, sending him stumbling backwards, growling in disgust.

He once again earned himself several strikes to the stomach and face, and blood gushed from his nose, tears beading in his eyes. But he smiled through it, nonetheless.

Recovering from his saliva attack, Karawan's eye twitched in pain, and he stormed up to Winter, grabbing a fistful of his hair, tugging on his scalp. He was trembling in lividness.

"You just earned yourself something you won't ever be able to return," he snarled, shooting his index and middle finger straight into the younger man's eye socket, the same as the one Winter had spat into, corkscrewing the wet, bloody flesh.

A sharp, shooting pain ran through Winter's face, and his vision flashed out immediately. He cried out gutturally, his hands attempting to prise Karawan's fingers. He scrambled up against the wall, his head still being jerked upwards by the man's fist.

His attempt was unavailing, and soon everything went quiet as he went into shock. His throat tightened and his arms shook uncontrollably, and all pain that once racked his body turned to a numb sting.

What seemed like hours passed by before Karawan's finger's were removed from his mutilated eye socket, blood pouring down his face, his membrane torn and bloody.

"You shouldn't have crossed me, little boy," His voice was thick without remorse. Another member of his group handed him a handkerchief, and he wiped his crimson stained fingers and palm in deadpan.

Dropping Winter to the floor, his body a motionless weight on the cobblestone. His body twitched and convulsed slightly at the searing pain that had now returned to his face. The blood poured down and pooled around him, but he made no sound, for no sound could truly express his humiliation and agony.

The group gave him one last glace before stepped away and ran before anyone could judge them guilty, and the darkness of the night swallowed them up.

As the shadow of unconsciousness seeped over him, all was silent, all was still.

He was alone in the dark.