Inheritance

Chapter two: Awakened

Ian looked up from the ground and saw the faces of three guys who went to his school. Well, went in the loosest sense, these guys rarely showed up to class. Somehow they had not been kicked out of school by now. Money probably changed hands, but that was beside the point. The point was that there were three guys who were looking down at him like he was a paycheck at the end of the month. Which, considering what they were about to do, he kind of was.

"Hey buddy," said the first one, slurring out the last word. It seemed that these guys were drunk, or at least he was. Ian looked at his watch. It was 4:30. Go figure.

Ian tried to back away. This action had two motives behind it. One, witnesses that would be able to see him and help out. If no one showed up, then at least his potentially stabbed body would be seen quickly and could potentially be saved. Eventually he started to think in the present, so that he could survive and there could be a future. For all he knew, they were just being a bunch of concerned citizens who noticed that their schoolyard companion had collapsed and had gone to help.

"Your money or your life faggot"

Ian stopped backing away. There were multiple factors, but the primary one was the feeling of a sharp object poking him in the back. What a concerned citizen.

Ian pulled out his wallet and handed it to the guy. Some would call him a pansy, but he just wanted to live. Unfortunately for him, he picked the wrong guy to mug. Not because he had secret fighting skills or anything...

"Actually now you do."

But because he was broke as hell.

Wait.

Unless Ian was mistaken, he had just heard a voice in his head. He would have to get back to him later, because the knife was starting to poke him harder.

"Hey, is this all you have? Pathetic."

Ian didn't respond. It was hard to when you had a fist in your face. Even harder when the fist makes contact and you're falling to the ground. It's almost impossible to when feet are flying towards your body.

"Stop...!"

*Kick*

"...it!"

*Kick*

"You're..."

*Kick*

"Killing..."

*Kick*

"Me!"

The kicking stopped. Who knew that sometimes all you had to do was ask nicely.

The leader picked him up. The two stared into each other's eyes, with waaay too much sexual tension in the air.

"You see... That's the idea. Can't have you identifying any of us in a potential line-up, can we?"

"Really, you're going to kill me over a mugging that you got no money from?"

There were only two routes for Ian at this point. One: fall to his knees and cry like a little girl. Get stabbed. Die. Two: try to fight back. Get stabbed multiple times. Die. Well, it seemed that we were going to go with...