City Life

Marty and I entered the gigantic city, with horns honking and crowded streets, we could tell this city was pretty big in industry. We entered this city searching for three things: refuge, food, and a sword for me. The guards back at the joint (jail) sold it for cash and because of it, they all perished and died. That sword was given to me by my creators years ago. Let’s face it, it was a shit piece sword, for the handle broke off of the dull blade when I first used it in a real battle, but it would be useful for at least a minute. Since I didn’t have it though, I started searching and asking for the best weapon-smith within one-hundred miles of crane Gulf Prison and every person I asked who had knowledge of weapons said Orian Gaines could forge a pretty damn good sword in a matter of days so I decided to talk to him.

The smell of this city was horrible. It smelled of sulfur and rotting meat, which I don’t recommend anyone ever smell purposely. The streets were shittier than the smell of the atmosphere: potholes galore, graffiti on windows and roads, killers on every horribly paved corner. This place practically breathed trouble. Perfect, I thought. First things first, I must find a house.

I turned towards Marty, who was half asleep because of the tedious walk to the city. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, we gotta find an apartment. Grab a newspaper from that old man sitting on the corner by the police station.”

Marty rubbed his eyes, and turned to look towards where I described. He instantly thought NO. “No, because first of all, that old man is homeless and he’s using that newspaper as a blanket. Secondly, even if I wanted to, I can’t steal the newspaper in front of a damn police station, I’ll get caught.”

Two minutes n this horrid city and I was already getting irritated by this whelps excuses. “Since he’s sleeping and homeless, it should be easier to take the newspaper so go get it and look for a house to rent in the ads or else.”

I saw Marty chuckle as if I told a joke. I don’t remember telling one. “Look, what the hell are you gonna do to me if I don’t. You have tons of witnesses within the city. If you even touch me I can scream one word: rape and you’ll be put BACK in jail with the rats and cockroaches crawling over your body while you sleep and I know you don’t want that.” arty smiled in satisfaction and crossed his arm as if he had won.

Damn. Marty knew exactly what the hell he was talking about but he forgot one thing. “Stupid. You are fuckin’ remedial. If I go to jail, you go to jail with me cause there are warrants out for the both of us if I recall. Now go get that damn newspaper, the cops wouldn’t do anything in this city. They see people getting shot right in front of their yes and don’t do shit so why would they put you in jail for taking a newspaper from someone who they don’t even know exists.” I should be a lawyer.

Marty mumbled under his breath, rolled his green eyes, and walked towards the old raisin and took the paper like candy from a baby as the homeless man stayed asleep, not noticing what had just taken place. Marty put the paper in my face and I quickly snatched it from his hands. I fumbled through the paper looking for the cheapest yet most extravagant home in the ads. There were all types of ads for homes ranging from 1400 dollars a month to 10,000 a week. I ended up choosing a decent looking apartment with one bedroom and one bathroom since we would be here for at least a month unless I thought we were in danger of getting caught.

Marty and I, instead of walking due to his tireless complaining, took a cab to the house’s address. As we stepped into the cab, I saw that the driver was giving me a strange look. I received this look plenty of times but only when I had my shades off so I checked to see if my shades were low enough for him to see my eyes and it turns out they were. I pushed them closer to my face and sat down.

“2441 Ponderosa Lane, please.” He replied with a nod and turned on the radio. It was turned pretty high so I decided to tell him to turn it down. But as I began to do so, a report came on that interested me greatly.

The radio personality spoke, “A couple hours ago, in the Radia Desert, not to far from the radio station, the police, after being told of a kidnapping, found the bodies of two old men who both seemed to be in their early fifties. Their bodies seemed to be charred and both men suffered from third degree burns. The duo had two camels found not too far from where their corpses lay that were dead also. If you have any information or concern on this event please call the radio station. And now sports with Bry-“ The driver cut off the radio before the sports segment came on.

“What has this damned world come to, huh? Charred bodies in the desert, I think it’s the curse.”

I lifted my eyebrow at the statement. “Sir, what do you mean curse.”

The man made a raspy laugh and said, “You’re a newcomer I see. The desert back there used to be the city called Granator, about four or five years ago. It was full of very nice and friendly people except one family. The Haines family had moved in the city for two months. They were thought to be demons but no one knows for sure. And one day the city just burst into flames. I think the deserts curse is real. It says that all who enter the desert will surely die by fire. Ever since the city burned down all who passed through have suffered from the curse.”

Marty looked at me slyly and saw the look on my face. He couldn’t tell, but something was different now about me, he thought. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

The car suddenly came to a halt in front of a large building with steps surrounding it. We were at the building.

“That’s gonna be 13.25 bub.” I reached over the seat and slipped him a twenty.

“Keep the change.” I muttered. I opened the door, slammed it, and watched the taxi speed off into the distance. I walked up the steps looking for apartment 441.

Marty AKA Slim

I looked up towards the highest set of stairs. Good thing Vego didn’t know I was scared of heights. I had witnessed countless deaths, my mother shooting heroin, my father beating her, and I hadn’t flinched during any of those moments, but if you put me on the top of a truck, I would scream for help. Damn. Vego motioned for me to follow him up the sets of stairs. I hesitated but did so.

As I rose higher and higher on the steps, sweat rolled down my temples faster and faster. My heart beat changed from fast to slow repeatedly. After what seemed like days, finally, we reached the top of the steps. I looked down and it turns out that we weren’t even twenty feet above the ground. I was hopeless. Vego reached for the handle to the room when the door swung open automatically. Behind the door was an old lady, late sixties it seemed, who was staring at Vego.

“Whoa. You sure are tall.” she whispered. In all actuality, Vego was 5’10 and she was like 4’5 so she thought he was tall.

Sarcastically, Vego replied, “Thanks, I get that a lot. But, anyway, we’re here for the ad about the apartment. You must be the owner.”

“Why yes, I am, please, please, come in.” The old hag kept on looking at Vego out of the corner of her eye suspiciously. I couldn’t help but wonder if she knew about our past. Then, something caught my attention. It was the whole room. It was set in a strange fashion: beads and strange carpets everywhere, strange stones, smoke rising from various rooms, and a strange table with a crystal ball. The ball let me know instantly: she was a psychic.

“These are the rules if you would like to rent my abode: no smoking, no drinking, no wild parties, and don’t piss on the toilet seat. Otherwise, do whatever you like unless you are going to buy the room.” Afterwards, she reached in her pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a small bottle and drank from it. Hypocritical old hag, I thought. She glanced at me suddenly, as if she had heard my thoughts. She frowned at me and turned towards Vego. Her eyes lit up. For some reason, she had a strange fascination with him, but I couldn’t tell why.

For about an hour and a half, Vego and the old hoar discussed the rules and regulations, amongst other things while I sat on this crappy couch and after wards we left. As I closed the door on my way out, I took a huge sigh of relief. We were finally out of that crazy bitches place.

Vego looked at me with, as always, a frown on his face. “The old lady said we could get in the crib tomorrow but for now we would have to rent a hotel room. She told me a good hotel not too far from here. We’ll head their later, but first I have to get a weapon just in case we receive some… problems. And after that, I must eat.” When he said eat, I got scared. When Vego said he had to eat, that meant someone had to die, even if it meant me losing my life in the process.

Aniro

The commotion of the townsfolk was almost deafening but I was pretty much used to it. Various people were talking about different things: robberies, politics, and crime, whatever caught their fancy. The continuous chatter of the people was extremely annoying, and I would be glad when I moved to a new city. The capital, Gradesh, was one of the noisiest places I had ever been in and I would be happy to see all the cities inhabitants die, for they all deserved it. Right now I was incognito as a weapons-smith, waiting for Ramses to call me for my next assignment. I was posted here for the past year for the desert was close to this city, and all my assignments were to be in the desert, supposedly.

I was sitting in my chair in front of my store, smoking a cigarette, when a scream rang out through all he hustle and bustle of the massive city. My eyes quickly gazed towards the origin of the scream. It was a fat lady, white, in a green blouse that was two sizes too small for her plump frame, in trouble. Normally, I would have ignored her but something seemed familiar about this whole scene.

She pointed towards the alley where, obviously, something was going down. I tossed on my cap backwards, and walked towards the scene. The traffic was horrible in this city, so it was hard to get through the busy street without getting hit but I managed. As I walked towards the fat lady, a joyous look came upon her face. She thought I came to help her. She had the wrong idea, for I just came to spectate. I looked in the alley, as the lady clapped for me, still thinking that I would save the man who looked to be her husband. He was being beaten up by two random thugs who had nothing else better to do with their time. But something suddenly sparked my interest. As the man looked up towards me, I saw something else familiar. I couldn't figure out what it was. Something inside me that I hadn't felt for years had come back into my emotions: pity. He was helpless and begging for help when no one would give it to him. I now knew what he reminded me of: my father. My father was in a similar predicament before he was killed. I couldn't nor would I stand to see something like that happen to anyone ever again, even if this man was an inferior human. I threw off my forging apron and went to help the man.

I walked behind the thugs and tapped them both on their shoulders lightly. They turned to face me and laughed. They obviously thought that a fifteen year old kid couldn't fight two muscle bound teenagers.

One of the idiots, who was black and was somewhat muscular, chose to acknowledge me first. " What the fuck are you lookin' at pussy ass motha fucka? Leave before I whup your punk ass like this old ass bitch right here." The old man, who suffered from a black eye, coughed up blood and held his ribs tightly. The fat lady was crying now, and a crowd gathered behind her slowly, watching the event.

As the fire in my eyes burned with a passion for death that I had gained over the years, I replied with a somewhat snotty remark. "You think you can kick my ass, huh? Gimme your best shot. BOTH of you." The pair looked at each other in a strange fashion. They both grinned. They pushed the old man to the side, against a garbage can and came towards me. Ramses told me to keep a low profile so I wouldn't do much. The second thug, who was white with hair in a green spiky Mohawk and a biker boy outfit slipped behind me and put me in a full nelson. The black one with a crazy grin on his face cranked his fist back behind his right ear and swung his fist towards my face. He hit me point blank. If I were normal it would have been a knockout but then again, I wasn't normal.

The grin on his face instantly dissipated into a frown. He punched me numerous times in a mix between my gut and my face, roughly around sixteen, but to no avail. He then looked into my eyes and was lured into my trap. My eyes mesmerized him until they changed color and he then saw me for what I truly was.

"Demon!!! Demon!! Demon!!!!” he screamed with dread on his face, “He’s a demon!!!" He ran towards the large crowd, trying to get away from me. I chuckled in amusement.

The white thug then followed suit so he could go check on his buddy. I changed the look on my face from amusement to pain. I pretended I was hurt from the punches so I wouldn't blow my cover. Suddenly, dozens of people ran towards the senior and me, trying to rush us to the nearest hospital. I declined the offer from numerous people to get me help for if I did so I would be figured out and I wasn't in pain so it wouldn't help at all. The fat lady rushed to her husband and then tried to help him up and get him on his feet. She whispered a few things to him and they both made a gesture that seemed to be a smile but I couldn't tell. I walked through the crowd and it parted like a sea. I walked towards my shop, seeing that I had a customer, two quite possibly.

As I walked closer, I saw that one person had ebony skin, and a bandana on his head and shades blocking his eyes. Something about him was mysterious. He was standing there with a kid. The kid looked like he was slightly younger than I was. He had slant eyes, and had a scowl on his face. I walked up to them and put on my friendly face.

"How may I help you?" The couple looked skeptical.

"Hey, I'm looking for the owner of this weapons shop." His face was grim and he seemed like he hadn't had a good laugh in years. We had something in common.

"I am the co-owner of this shop. The manager of the shop isn't here right now, but I can assist you in the exact same manner that he can."

The little kid spoke up. "Look, we're not here to play games. Where is the manager you dipshit!"

I didn't like this kid already. He had a smart mouth. I accidentally let my veil slip for a quick second because of my anger towards the kid. As soon as this happened, I saw the older one's facial expression change for a slight second. Then as soon as it came, it had left.

"Look, I'm the manager now tell me what you want before I call the cops on the both of you!" Truthfully, I didn't trust the cops----ever. But if it would get these two strange people to buy something or leave, I would say anything.

He told me their names and then said, "I'm just here to see if you can forge a sword for me."

Forging was my specialty. "Sure just tell me how you want it to look and I'll work with the info that you give me."

The older one pulled a small sheet of paper out of his left pocket with some words and numbers on it. He read it aloud. “50 inches from the tip of the blade to the end of the pommel, and ten inches wide made out of stainless steel. I want the metal folded one hundred times and want the handle to be made of pure gold and it must be ready by the day after tomorrow, or else"

Obviously this guy meant business. This was a heavy duty sword and it was pretty heavy. "Alright, I'll have it ready by tomorrow but it’s gonna cost you about 300 bucks and the handle is gonna cost you about 350." He dug into his pockets and pulled out four-hundred dollars.

He smirked and said. "I'll give you the rest when I have the sword."

I nodded my head and bid him and his bitch farewell. They walked off towards the desert, which wasn't common, at all. I would keep an eye out on them. Ramses told me to keep a sharp watch on anything that seemed suspicious and if this wasn't suspicious, then I don't know what was. I got on the sword right away and focused on nothing else but it for the next eight hours. It took a normal person at least three more people to help forge a sword which would take days often, but once again I was not normal.

After hours of working, I looked at the product of my power and saw that it was good. Great, in fact. I set the blade on a cloth when it cooled, and then decided to take a rest. The forgery was also where I lived so I wouldn't have to travel anywhere. However, it was short lived for my phone rang as I fell on my bed. Ramses was calling. Just great, I thought. I spoke the transmission charm and within seconds was in front of my master’s throne.

"Good, you've come."

"Don't I always."

"Look, I have a mission briefing for you. There has been a bounty put on two teenagers who have caused uproar lately. There is a cash reward involved and another special reward not mentioned by the king. I want you to find the pair and bring them back to me ALIVE. The message will not be announced to the world for another two days so you may relax until then. After you capture them, I have one of the biggest missions yet for you. You will destroy the whole city of Gradesh just as you did five years ago to Granator." The whole ordeal with Granator suddenly filled my mind from beginning to end. The burning of the city, the death of my parents and even the screams of the citizens came back to my mind. All but the murdering of my parents invigorated me and gave me a form of arousal. I could tell this would be very fun. A couple more missions like this, and I would be able to see my loved ones again after five years of non-stop killing of innocent people, not that it bothered me though.

"I accept your mission but what are the targets names?" I always wanted to know who I was going to kill so I would not make a mistake.

"One's name is Vego and the others name is Marty. Vego is the one that you really need to watch out for. I have seen him fight and he is... not human. He contains a strange ability to absorb energy in many forms. Be very careful." Ramses then wished me good luck, gave me a picture of the pair, but I did not look at it, and told me and that he would not call on me until the night of the destruction of the city. Those names, Vego and Marty seemed familiar but I couldn’t tell why. I spoke my charm and disappeared to my humble abode, but as I entered the house, I could sense that there was something not so humble about it tonight.