Kingdoms In Ruling <Jamilton>

Chapter Eighteen...Could I?/

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\Augustine POV/

"Another?" The man beside me asks, a cocky grin on his lips. It was absolutely foul, the look he gave me, sending shivers - and not the good kind - down my spine.

"Sure!" I gave him an innocent smile as I leaned against the counter, propped up on my elbows, pretending to be interested in what he was saying. He was telling a story of some sort, if the wild gestures and facial expressions were anything to go by.

The chatter of the bar along with the shot of whiskey the man gave me sent a pleasant buzz through me. I was no stranger to alcohol; I sometimes sneaked sips of my father's drinks and my mother's wine. The thought of them dead sent a sharp pain through my chest but I quickly covered it up with a fake smile, nodding along to the man's story.

I didn't know what to do. Only fifteen, I had no money, no belongings, no name to go by - I was just another runt on the street.

"How 'bout we go back to my place? I can show you a world of wonders.." The disgusting man beside me grinned, obviously drunk.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead giving him a somewhat-pleasant smile. "Actually, I 'ought to leave. Thanks for the drinks, mister." I hopped off my stool and quickly made my way out, darting through the crowd.

I heard the angry shouts of the drunk behind me fade away and soon, I was back in the real world. A cold chill went through me and I wrapped my arms around myself in an attempt to save the heat, already wishing I was back in the warm bar. But, I knew I had to go. I need to find my father. He'll know what to do.

"Excuse me," I tried tapping the shoulder of a man that walked past, but he ignored me, save for the narrowed look. A woman walking by scoffed, clinging to her husband's arm when I looked to her. People shoved past me, almost knocking me down, and I huffed in irritation. It was like I was invisible.

No matter. I could find my way through. I just had to find a soldier passing by, maybe they'll bring me to my father. The cops must've found my house by now; perhaps they caught the killers? I shivered again at the look the one chasing me gave me; they were wild, filled with a barely readable rage. They were most likely rogues, the filthy creatures.

Oh, what if I become one of them? I've heard of people - especially kids - on the streets getting kidnapped and brainwashed into serving a rogue leader. Trained to only kill and obey, but perhaps it was just all stories. John told me these whenever he felt like it, he loved messing with my head-

Oh, John. Sally. Anna and Mary. Filled with only the rush of survival, I hadn't even thought of them. I felt horrified with myself, how could I ever erase the images of their blood from my mind? My body shook and my legs threatened to give out, no- I couldn't do this now. People were beginning to stare; some in pity, most in unshielded disgust.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sob threatening to escape and let my eyes dart around my surroundings. The first alleyway I saw I dashed - perhaps, I thought in my terrified glaze, that wasn't the best of ideas.

A gang of clathed figures immediately surrounding me, blocking off the entryway to the alley. I managed to back myself against a brick wall covered in what smelt like piss and vomit when one branished a flail.

"Oh? I can practically smell the fear oozing out of you~" The figure practically purred, swinging the weapon slightly, seeming to enjoy the terrified look on my face. "Now give me your fucking money."

I angrily wiped the tears cascading down my face, pushing back the panic attack threatening to release. My limbs trembled as the one with the flail stalked closer until I could smell their breath, eyes glimmering with a barely tameable rage mixed with sadistic glee.

"I-I don't have any 'fucking' money, asshat." I spat, a few more tears escaping as I glared at them, my back flat against the wall. The stranger seemed to take great pleasure in the response as they threw their head back in a crooked laugh, gaze unwavering.

"Oh, I like you. The boss'll like you, too. Preferably, your corpse." I saw their finger twitch and suddenly I was pushing forward, using the wall for leverage. I kicked off and slammed into the figure, startling a cry from their lips. I heard metal clang against concrete and spotted the flail to my left; I dove for it as the figure recovered, the skin on my elbows busting open in red.

The other surrounding figures had also drawn their weapons - halbards, scimitars, batons, maces - but made no move to help their leader. Their eyes glinted dangerously in the low light, crooked smiles sporting crooked faces.

I scrambled for the flail and held it up at the stranger, fingers trembling. They didn't seem to care for the weapon aiming at their face, laughing as they wiped blood from a busted lip. I took great pride in the slight wince they made when they stood up; that'll fucking teach them.

"I bet 'ya never even held a weapon like that before, lad." They coughed out a laugh, gaze unwavering. "Now, put it down 'fore somebody gets hurt." A hand was outstretched, the other at their side, palm facing away.

"S-Stay back!" I faltered, mentally preparing myself for the worst. Could I actually hurt someone?

Light caught my eye. That's all they needed before a knife was suddenly in my face, slicing down my cheek. I stumbled back, dropping the flail in the process; an awfully loud crack amitting from metal against concrete, echoeing. My hand instinctively went up, other supporting myself from falling against the wall. I tasted copper before I felt the heat rush to my face; the other strangers had scattered, perhaps scared some guardsmen heard the noise and would come to investigate.

The one in front of me was still here, though. The left side of their face was covered in blood; a ragged hole was in the flesh of their ear, blood already staining the collar of their shirt. They must've gotten snagged by the flail. They didn't seem to mind the shouts of the police as they seemed to flood into the alleyway, just...staring at me.

As soon as a hand clamped on their shoulder, the bloodied stranger snarled, suddenly animated again. "The king will find you! We'll make you pay with your life!" Was all I could hear before they were practically dragged away, a woman kneeling in front of me.

"Are you okay?" She asked in a soft voice, gaze piercing through me, seeming to focus on the open - and still bleeding - wound. I took notice of her clean uniform and badge clearly on display.

I didn't respond, not even nod my head. Here, I could tell them what happened to my family. The thought of them brought a burning sensation in my chest, but no tears came. It seems I've run out of tears.

The lady sighed softly, seeming almost sad. She stood back up to full height - I only reached her collarbone - and held out a hand. I stared at it for a long moment before taking it. If she saw the blood on my hand and smelt the whiskey on me she didn't acknowledge it; instead, she brought me over to a carriage led by two fine white stallions.

She helped me up into the seat, staying quiet. I barely noticed - I didn't even feel the blood still trailing softly down my cheek. A couple more men and women joined us after a minute or two - the others stayed behind to survey the scene and speak to witnesses. A whistle was heard, and then we were off, the ride smooth.

"I'm Catherine." The woman suddenly spoke, quiet, yet a small smile graced her lips. She instantly seemed almost ten years younger, the crease between her eyebrows smoothing. "But you can call me Kitty, if that fancies you."

I stood quiet just long enough for her fingers to twitch before I spoke. "August."

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Hhhh sorry it took so long guys I went ahead like two chapters n wrote the Storm™️ chapter already so get ready for that babes

-Gabriel

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