"I don't do shit halfway, sweetheart. You step in my flames, you'll burn to ashes!"
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The Kings of the underworld are in a bit of a predicament; their rule over the city is challenged as an old enemy...
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You will read things you don't want to read... But you have to keep going. ~ Courtney Peppernell, The Minds Journal
In Japanese folklore, there's a special word for the transitional stage looming between life and death, and it is called Bargo. Turning left in the quiet, empty, street before sunrise, the darkness falling around him like thick black curtains of smoke, the young man in his late thirties felt as if he was walking straight into that twilight of death.
Suffice it to say he was on edge.
His guard up as he crossed the dark alley. All of his senses so alert they could pick up the faintest of sounds and smallest of movements around him. But there was nothing to pick up on.
Taking another turn, he found himself in a smaller street with not-so-tall buildings which looked out of place, considering it's proximity to the busy center of Soul. These streets were too dark, too small, too poorly cared for. Not to mention they were ominously still. Empty. As if there was not a single soul living inside these buildings.
A faint clatter was what froze him in the middle of a step. The silence before resembling one of a calm before the storm came. He sought for the source of the noise, walking closer towards where he thought it came from, one hand hovering above his hostler, ready to draw and fire.
He took one cautious step closer. Testing the waters. Nothing.
It was too dark, almost impossible to make out the shapes and shadows. His phone had fucking died on him, so he couldn't use the flash. But he wasn't going to back down.
Another step. Still nothing.
The empty stillness too unnatural for someone who knew of dark streets the way he did.
He yelped when a screaming cat jumped from a dumpster, chasing after a well-rounded mouse that passed between his feet, scattering to save its life. The prey managed to dart inside a drain escaping the fat grey cat now angrily mewling above the iron placed on the hole, trying and failing to catch it's prey by sticking its paws through the holes of the iron.
The man sighted annoyed.
"A fucking cat!" He growled kicking the animal as he did.
The poor thing screamed and run away from the assaulter to hide inside a dumpster, while the man put his gun back in its place shaking his head disapprovingly as he went on his way.
A fucking cat scared the living shit out of you! he scoffed.
After checking around a few more times to make sure no one followed, he stormed down the street faster, twice as much cautious of his surroundings now. This couldn't be an excuse for him to drop his guard. He was on enemy territory and until he got back to the base, he'd be in danger.
