Ultio Dulcis

Chapter 1 - The Letter

Chapter 1 - The Letter

The Cobras were a fairly large gang of twenty members, and lived in large spiralled houses which filled the sky in Montville Town and Old Ferryview. The towns were a multitude of dingy alley ways, homeless, shifty characters and gangs. The Cobras were just one of these gangs and were infamous for their ruthless fury.

Each member had wounds and cuts that left puckered white scars over their bodies. The more scars you had, the more prestige you had within the group – as long as they knew what you got the scars for.

Having lots of scars would of course indicate; either you were a really experienced fighter and had just been scarred a few times each fight, or, you were a terrible fighter and suffered many scars in very few fights. The latter was potentially deadly as rival gangs saw power and fun in picking off these weaker members. Thankfully in most cases they would simply become the subject of ridicule by the other members. However The Cobras were notoriously sharp and strong fighters, with everyone helping each other train constantly, they had a better chance of survival.

It was very rare for somebody to reach the age of twenty three when they were part of a gang. Most wouldn’t choose to join a gang but just like The Cobras drug addicted customers; they would fall into it and it would ultimately consume them.

Cobra Headquarters was on Gillford Road and was the ultimate hideaway. By using their ample amounts of cash to fund the purchase and renovation of an old three story department store, they were able to create a spacious home for all of the members to live comfortably in until they either moved out, or more likely, moved on.

Moving on was quite frequent, in most gangs, as conflicts in Old Ferryview and Montfield Town were common place. More so once a person had fallen into the gang world, there was no other world for them, they changed; fuelled by anger and thirst for revenge against everyone. They had lost at least three gang leaders to previous skirmishes and even more seconds and lower ranking members before they could even be trained. Being in a gang was hard work and the risk of dying was high. But, when you had nothing to lose, dying didn’t seem so bad.

Currently, the Cobras were celebrating their most recent triumph over a rival gang called the Downtown Shooters. They were self orientated, cocky and unorganized allowing the Cobras to take them out quickly, sparing nobody; unless they had fled from fear, in which case they would have no future on the streets.

They usually didn’t kill unless it was warranted but of course that doesn’t mean they didn’t want to hurt as many people as possible. Like all gangs there was a darkness hidden deep inside everyone. It only took two hours at the most to arrive and take out the main leaders, allow time for the others to flee and attend to removing any valuables from the dead before they left and headed to ‘Cobra headquarters’. Comprised of outcasts, talented, strong, cunning people, people joined the gang for protection, a safe place where they could stay without feeling awkward and unwelcome. It was kill or be killed and with the Cobra’s everyone belonged.

In one of the niches by the stairs Knuckles sat boasting loudly about his ‘kill of the night’. Carlos was the leader of the Downtown Shooters and had challenged Knuckles to a fight. Of course, it was foolish on his part and Knuckles accepted the challenge with relish...

Knuckles rolled his neck making it crack loudly as he eyed his opponent. The man was late twenties, quite an achievement for a leader. He was bald with a thick neck and long muscular arms. He looked menacing and could surely pack a punch, but he was slow. His gang were muscular too, although, the gang was small in numbers and inexperienced.

The Cobras had a fair amount of muscle, were well trained and experienced. Knuckles grinned at him fiendishly; his eyes glinting in the dying rays of the sun making him look menacing.