Changing Sides and Heaving Sighs

5

If one were to survive an encounter with Anton, they would likely never be the same again. At first glance, the man was intimidating. At 6' 7" he towered over most; his dark hair, dark eyes, dark leather jacket, and dark jeans made him look like a walking shadow. At second glance, he wasn't all that bad. He sounded normal (if a little hoarse), smiled every now and then, and admittedly was rather easy on the eyes.
The thing is, if anyone got more than a second glance, they were probably marked for death already. When one got close enough, they could catch the sharp, coppery scent of blood. Scars were scattered all over him, the most prominent being those on his knuckles. His eyes were, for lack of a better word, empty most of the time; cold and unfeeling. When his eyes did express something it was as haunting as looking down a hole and seeing the opening to hell. His teeth, clean and mostly normal as they were, had the slightest stain of red.
In case it wasn't clear, Anton was a serial killer.
"What is it?" Virgil stood up straight for the first time in weeks, hands in his pocket and one gripping his knife.
"I've got two snippets of news. The first is that I've got a fight in the warehouse district at midnight. The bets are the highest I could find."
"Who's their champion?"
"Big guy, taller than me. He's built like a tank and supposedly can't feel pain."
"Sounds easy for you."
"Especially if he can't feel anything."
"Alright, text me the address later. What's the second snippet?" Virgil's eyes darted to Deceit and The Duke, whose figures could be seen just outside the alley. "Keep it brief."
"There's a pimp who just set up shop on the outskirts of our turf. He doesn't have any connections and, legally, doesn't exist."
     "You suggesting a takeover?"
     "I could scratch him out no problem. It's a lucrative business."
     "It sounds promising, but I'll need more information on him and his business. We'll be at the fight."
     "Just the three of you or all four?"
     "You know the fourth isn't back yet."
     "Just checking. That's all the news I have for you."
     "Alright, we'll meet you at midnight."
     Anton nodded, put out his cigarette, and scaled to the roof of one of the buildings in a flurry of movements and jumps. He seemed to take most of the shadows with him, leaving the alleyway somehow lighter. Virgil himself careened out of the alley as soon as the serial killer was out of sight.
     "What did he want?" Deceit asked, peering at the rooftops in an attempt to spot Anton.
     "Just some info, " Virgil shrugged, hiding his shaking hands in his hoodie pocket. "I can fill you in on the way."
     Virgil only told them about the first thing Anton had said, lest word get out that Virgil was indecisive about expanding his own turf. The moment the others found out he was a coward, he was sure, they would descend on him like a pack of starved wolves. Even his three closest associates and friends were notoriously cutthroat.
     Unfortunately, as one of said close associates was smuggling resources from foreign countries, they needed someone to fill in as another person. The warehouse district was theoretically any gang's space, but it was a known hangout for one group in particular and henceforth it was an unspoken truth that anyone who didn't have backup would not be getting out of there untouched. That led the three to discuss who exactly was going in their absent friend's place. The three of them rattled off several names to no avail for a while.
     "How about Remy?" Remus asked. "He doesn't take anyone's shit."
     "He's not good in a fight. He's great for a drink or a race, but otherwise..." Virgil shrugged.
     "Here's an idea, " Deceit offered, "we can bring Circe."
     "Circe? Are you kidding?" Remus wheeled around, still walking backwards at the same pace.
     Virgil gave it a moment of thought, then made a noncommittal noise. "She's actually a pretty good option."
     "She's a kid who does my homework, what the hell is she gonna do there?"
     Remus had a point, of course. At only five feet tall and about 125 pounds, she didn't exactly come across as a threat. However, Virgil hadn't brought her in for no reason.
     "Well, she certainly knows how to handle a knife, doesn't she?" Deceit gave Remus a pointed glance.
     "She blocked a bullet, that's all."
     "A bullet headed straight for your skull."
     "She got lucky."
     "That's the thing, isn't it?" Virgil said slowly. "She's always lucky. Think about it, Duke. First the bullet, then she happened to find out who had been pocketing our crack, then all those gambles, then Remy's races. Whatever the reason, you can't pretend the odds aren't always in her favor."
     "She literally saved your life, what's the problem here?" Deceit muttered.
     "What, is she gonna gamble her way out of a rumble?" Remus threw his hands in the air.
     "No, she's gonna cut a bitch. C'mon Reme, it's not like it would be a big deal if her luck ran out anyway."
     Remus groaned. "Fine, but she doesn't fit our aesthetic at all."
     "Is that your problem? Seriously?"
     "She's a nerd and she's tiny."
     "You're a dumbass, " Deceit snickered.
     "I'm your favorite dumbass."
     "Says who?"
     Virgil instinctively tuned out the banter, breathing carefully and willing his hands to stop shaking. He was worried about the fight, worried about Anton's suggestion, and worried about how he would go about his daily life like nothing happened if either of those things went horribly wrong. Getting involved with this kind of world meant he could lose everything-his friends, his freedom, his very life- in a single night. He hated being in a gang and being more paranoid than he already had been. He hated not being able to let his guard down.
     He worried all the way to school, arriving just in time for their last period.