Requiem for a Mouse

Requiem for a Mouse

This is a work of fiction. Everything included within the book is a product of the author’s imagination including names, products, characters, places, and incidents. The author’s imagination in these cases are used fictitiously. Any resemblance or mention of real names, products, characters, places, or incidents are entirely coincidental. This includes but is not limited to businesses, people (living or dead), events, and locations.

REQUIEM FOR A MOUSE All rights reserved. Copyright © 2016 Jamie Wang

This publication is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted without prior consent from the author.

TRENT Trent was about to die for an apple. He would’ve chuckled at the absurdity of it all if it didn’t hurt so much to laugh. For months he had stolen from the street vendors and never once had any bothered to give chase. Except today. He laid his head against the dead roots of a tree. Around him was a field of cracked dirt and desert shrubs. The tree grew bent over the cliff, overlooking the dying river like it was straining for a taste of water. Trent knew the feeling all too well. He closed his eyes. With the world blacked out, his swollen knees didn’t ache so bad. The hunger that churned his stomach into knots wasn’t so bottomless. He smiled, after all, there were worse ways to die. The scorching heat of the sun dissipated into a gentle breeze. It’s happening. It’s over. “Do you live here?” It was a girl’s voice. When Trent opened his eyes, his smile disappeared. There were no angels or golden clouds, only the same dead tree in the same barren field. But now, he was under the shade of some girl. The sun shone above her, masking her face with the exception of her red eyes. “Yeah,” Trent replied with a raspy voice. “I live under a dead tree.” His lips held more cracks than the dirt beneath him and talking only reminded him of that. The girl wore a bright summer dress that hung to her knees. It gleamed the same brilliant white as the angels in church windows. Though, unlike this girl, there were never splotches of dirt on the angels. The girl looked about fifteen, only two years older than himself. “What happened?” she asked. “I stole an apple.” The girl shook her head. “You shouldn’t do that. Some people believe that apples are symbols of love.”

Trent’s brow shot up. “Who believes that?” The girl grinned. “Me. Do you want to know a secret? It’s impossible to enjoy stolen apples. Even if you eat one while its ripe, it would rot inside your stomach and make you sick. If you want one, it has to be given.” She held out her hand with an apple inside, its skin the color of her eyes. Trent’s mouth filled with saliva. His tongue snaked out along the edge of his lips and for once, it was wet. He shot the girl a wary glance. “Go on. Half for you, half for me.” Before she even finished the sentence, Trent ravished the apple. Every bite released a gush of juice, every swallow untied another knot in his stomach. When he was finished, there was barely a core. “Sorry,” he muttered. But the girl was smiling a sweet and gentle smile. “Now you owe me,” she joked, “apples are sacred things you know.” Trent exhaled a single chuckle. “Take whatever you want. This is all I have.” “No parents?” “Nope.” “A home?” “No.” “Family?” “You’re looking at my family.” The girl’s mouth scrunched up into a small frown. She squatted to his level. Though the sun burned Trent’s eyes, he kept them wide open. The girl wore an expression he recognized, but had never seen directed at him before. Worry. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “I won’t let you die here.” She was serious. “You don’t even know me.”

A smile stretched across the girl’s face. “All I know is that you owe me an apple.” “Angels don’t exist.” The words slipped out of Trent’s mouth. When he realized what he had said, his face flushed red and he turned away from the girl. The girl laughed a single ringing note. “So I’m an angel. How sweet of you.” “I didn’t mean it like that.” “Well, I’m a Mouse. So I’m the closest thing to an angel in this place.” At mention of the word Mouse, Trent’s gaze wandered to the girl’s arms. Sure enough, ridges and fissures lined her biceps in strange shapes. Each scar was a Hawk that had cut her to the bone, the punishment for being a Mouse. “If you’re asking me to become a Mouse, I’ll take my chances alone,” said Trent. The girl followed his gaze to her scars. Her smile faded. “You don’t have to be a Mouse,” she muttered as she pulled down her sleeves. “But you also don’t have to be alone.” “I don’t get you,” Trent said, “what do you get out of this?” “I get to name you,” she responded softly. “Are you being serious?” “Bolt,” she answered. “That’s not a name.” “But it is your name.” Trent shook his head. “No, it’s not.” The girl looked at him like he was a child simply too young to understand. She reached into her pockets and pulled out another apple. “Half for me, half for you.” “Even after I already owe you one?” “I don’t even know the name of the last kid I gave an apple to. This one’s for us, Bolt.”

Bolt snorted and took the apple. “Fine, but let me tell you right now, I will never become a Mouse.” She returned him a crooked grin. “The name’s Sasha and we’ll see about that.”

BOLT I won’t fail again. Bolt zipped through the trash-filled alleys toward the marketplace. Every step submerged his feet into another rotten puddle, shooting sewage up his bare back. In his shorts pocket was a bag of penicillin, enough to save a life. For one family, it meant the world in its entirety, but to the Hawks, just a few dollars’ profit. “Stop, Mouse!” A female Hawk screamed from behind him. Bolt dug his toes into the ground and leapt into the blinding sunlight. Before his eyes could adjust, he collided head-first into someone. His teeth snapped shut against the ground and everything went black. He awoke to the taste of dirt. It must’ve only been seconds, but seconds too long. Just standing up shot pain up his leg. If he surrendered now, nobody would blame him. But his family had all ran their routes, handing off the pills from one route to the next and finally to him. He couldn’t give up on the last leg of the drop. “I see him!” The Hawks sprinted toward him, only a football field’s length away. If just standing was hard, running would be impossible. Around Bolt was the standard lunchtime crowd at the marketplace. Street vendors had set up shop along the sides of the road, squishing two lanes of traffic into a single lane of space. Behind the street vendors were houses of stone, brick, and cement, their materials varying as much as their colors. Somewhere among the crowds and buildings was an escape route. There had to be. The sound of splashing water resounded from the alleys. Bolt glanced back to see three teenage Hawks almost at the end of the alleyway. There was no time to think. Right now, he needed distance. His first step felt like accidentally missing a staircase. His knee crumpled and he stumbled forward, barely able to catch himself in time. With a grimace, he clutched his thigh and pulled his leg through every throbbing step. He limped into a nearby alley and found his ticket to freedom. A broken basement window, its ledge at his feet. Shards of glass hung off it like cracked fangs. Times like this made him appreciate his small size. The window was small and his hunters had long since outgrown their childish bodies.

“Jonah, cut him off!” The female Hawk entered the alley, just a few yards away. “Shit.” Bolt closed his eyes in a silent prayer and fell on all fours to crawl through the window. With every push forward, the glass bit deeper into him, first his arms, then his stomach. “Oh no you don’t.” She was right on top of him. Bolt yelled and heaved his body through the window as fingertips brushed his feet. He fell three feet onto a wooden table below. A cloud of dust bloomed up in a wild dance. He stopped to catch his breath. Mistake. The dust in the air felt like tiny feathers tickling his lungs. He beat his chest with a fist as he coughed out all the air he had left, until all that remained were the feathers. Air. The single thought drove him forward. He staggered across the room to the front door and pushed against it. It didn’t budge. “I won’t let you out,” an unfamiliar voice said from the other side of the door. Bolt’s chest felt like it was about to explode. His pupils bounced around the room looking for some way to breathe. Then he found it. A nail in the doorframe, a quarter of it already hanging out. He ran to it and pried out the rusted metal. A small stream of sunlight shone through. He latched his mouth onto the hole, grateful even for the taste of rotting oak. With every breath, a pile of wood chips and insects lodged itself into his throat. But with them was oxygen. The weightless sensation that had flooded his head slowly passed. Left in its place was an unquenchable thirst for more air. I need to escape. There were only two ways to escape. One was through the broken basement window he had crawled through and the other was through the front door. Of the two, only the front door gave him at least a fighting chance. Bolt backed away from his hole to examine the door. It seemed sturdy, but spots of mold betrayed its age. Surely it wasn’t unbreakable. He headed back to the window. Two silhouettes peered through the dust, mentioning something about burning trash. Bolt ignored them and with an excruciating

leap, ran toward the door. His shoulder slammed into it, sending tremors down his spine. The wood snapped. A shallow crack snaked across the door. Once more. With a might leap, he threw his body into the wood. The crack widened. Once more! Bolt stood up and fell against the door. His knees had given out. He lifted his face, surprised to see his own shadow dancing on the doorframe. Behind him was a small fire and a whole basement full of dried out wood.

TIAREN Tiaren had never met such a stubborn Mouse before. She paced the alleyway, rubbing the crescent birthmark under her right eye. She called it her moon. “Nervous?” Brand asked her, his usual calm replaced by an uneasy shifting. He played with the spark wheel of his lighter. “It’s been almost five minutes. The Mouse has to come out.” “You sure?” “Nobody is dumb enough to die on a drop.” Brand shrugged. “Mice are.” Tiaren sighed, and for a second, she regretted playing the role of a Hawk. With perfect timing, her stomach grumbled and reminded her why she did. She stared into the smoke, only able to see a few feet beyond the haze. “If he doesn’t come out soon, we’re going in to get him.” “Be my guest.” Brand crinkled his nose at the smell of roasting trash. Tiaren shot him a sharp glare. “We should have at least some standards.” Brand snorted back, “we’re Hawks.” “Even so, I draw the line at murder.” Brand rolled his eyes, but Tiaren knew he would listen. Years of starving together had instilled a blind trust within their group. Plus, the prospect of murder was compelling even for someone as apathetic as Brand. “Mouse, give me your hand and I’ll pull you up,” Tiaren yelled into the smoke. She pressed against the window with her arm stretched inside, bobbing above the heat of the flames. “C’mon Mouse!” All she could do was pray that the Mouse had the good sense to grab her hand. At the touch of timid fingers, she seized his wrist and pulled. Despite her care to avoid the glass, it still dug shallow cuts across her arm. With a final grunt, Tiaren flew

backwards. She landed in the dirt, her ponytail spread across the floor. “Holy hell,” she muttered between gasping breaths. The Mouse hung limply out the window. Soot covered his face like makeup. Except for the lines of red that ran down his arms and stomach, his skin was the color of dirt. “Jonah, we got him!” Brand screamed through the window. “Let go of the door and meet us in the alley.” He dragged the Mouse into the alleyway. With a heaving cough, the Mouse came to life. His raspy breaths resembled the dying gasps of an old man. Yet, he was just a child. Brand searched through the Mouse’s pockets. It didn’t take long for him to find a crumple bag of pills. When he did, he threw it to Tiaren. “Don’t.” Tiaren had to strain her ears to hear the Mouse. “Please.” “Sorry, Mouse.” She had meant to sound cold, but was surprised by the tenderness in her voice. She couldn’t help it. The Mouse was just a kid, no older than her when she was abandoned. “Tiaren, we still have to…” Brand’s voice dropped. “I know.” Tiaren frowned, her fingers already returning to her moon. Stories of cruelty were the only way to dissuade other Hawks from their hunting grounds. The most common story came in the form of scarring. “Lighter,” Tiaren said. “What?” “Give me the lighter.” Her voice was the crack of a whip. Brand raised a single eyebrow and tossed her his lighter. When she began running her blade over the flame, his lips pressed together into a thin smile. He looked at Tiaren like she was something to be protected. Tiaren felt the urge to spit. “You’re much to soft.” His look said.

But disease was common in the slums and infections fatal. Brand would’ve teased her regardless. Might as well save a life. Brand grabbed the Mouse by his arms and held him down. It was as if touching the Mouse awakened him. The Mouse thrashed and kicked under Brand’s grip, but no matter how hard he fought, the difference in their strengths was obvious. “Do you want me to do it?” Brand asked. Yes. It took Tiaren a second to realize Brand was teasing her again. “Shut up.” She refused to be babied further. Still, as she approached the Mouse, she wished someone else would bear this burden. “No, please don’t,” the Mouse begged. Sorry, sorry, sorry… Tiaren climbed on top of the Mouse’s right arm. Strange etchings littered his bicep. She brought her blade down until it sizzled and filled the air with an acrid odor. When she finished, it felt like her stomach had bottomed out. Even Brand looked away, his teeth clenched together. The Mouse grabbed his arm and rolled into a fetal position. Tears streamed down his eyes. Tiaren and Brand backed away. “No,” the Mouse grunted through heaving breaths. “A young mother, if she doesn’t get those pills, she’ll die.” “I’m selling these pills for food.” Tiaren’s words had lost their edge. “But she’ll die!” “And if we don’t eat, so will we.” Without another word, she turned and left. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Jonah, joining them only after their terrible act. Tiaren walked ahead while Brand waited on Jonah. She pulled a yellow gelatin pill out from the plastic bag. Looking through the pills was like seeing a new world. Straight lines curved and blues turned to green. And slowly, her sullen mood lifted.

She turned and giggled at the sight of Brand and Jonah. Jonah looked even rounder and Brand’s lanky arms stretched even further. She wondered how her own golden eyes would look through this lens. “You okay?” Brand called out. “Yeah!” Tiaren waved the pills in the air. “I hope you guys are hungry.” “When aren’t we?” Brand said chuckling. As usual, Jonah lumbered silently behind him. Tiaren ran her hand through her ponytail. Her hair unfolded down her back. It felt like freedom. She placed the pill back in front of her eyes and looked up at the golden clouds. She once thought she had a family. Then, her parents had left her in the marketplace with promises of coming back. Back then, she had waited until even the sun had abandoned her. In order to survive, she had become a Hawk. She hated what she did, but loved the people she did it with. Maybe, that was what family meant. “Tiaren!” Brand screamed. She saw a flash of mangled hair before being thrown against the wall. The sour smell of alcohol and piss smothered her nose. A sharp pain stabbed her abdomen. She looked down, surprised to see the worn leather handle of a knife sticking out of her stomach. Her body slumped to the ground. Even as the knife was yanked from her body, she felt numb. For a split second, she looked into a pair of icy golden eyes. In a flash, the image vanished as her attacker sprinted down the alley with her pills. Like a faraway echo, she could hear Jonah screaming. It sounded muffled and even though she wanted to respond, she was too tired. Just keeping her eyes open was hard enough. That’s strange, Jonah screaming? He barely talks. Tiaren laughed breathlessly. She wasn’t sure if her lips even moved. With great effort, she turned her head to see her family. Though it was silly, seeing them so worried made her happy. She tried giggling, if only to let them know she was alright, but she couldn’t muster any sound. Instead, an odd calming sensation overcame her. She let a final breathless laugh.

Behind her, the fire had become an inferno. A black pillar of smoke rose to the heavens.

BOLT The slums looked like someone had tried jamming as many houses as they could into one place. Every street and alley were surrounded by rows of houses. It was ironic because most the houses lay empty as nobody could afford one. The difference between streets and alleys was which side of a house surrounded them. Streets led to the fronts of houses while alleys the backs. Due to poor planning, many alleys were simply dead ends, giving the slums the feel of a labyrinth. Bolt clutched the alley wall as he inched his way along. Without the wall, he wouldn’t be able to stand. But the end of the alley was fast approaching. “C’mon.” Bolt muttered as he stepped out of the alleyway shadows into the moonlight. With no wall left to hold, his knee caved and he fell to his stomach. Tiaren’s knife prodded him through his pocket. He snatched it out, afraid it would cut him. He almost wished that it had, he deserved as much. The moonlight glinted off the blade in a dazzling flash. Its tip had burned black. He cursed Tiaren for having shown him mercy when he had been so merciless to her. From the moment he had stolen her knife, her empty gaze had followed him. Her body was still warm. “She’s a Hawk. We’re enemies,” Bolt reminded himself. The dull aching of his arm sent a throb of agreement. He placed the knife back into his pocket, careful to position the tip away from himself. He pushed himself up, but his leg buckled beneath him again. No matter how he commanded it, it refused to obey. I deserve this. The thought wasn’t unexpected, but it startled him all the same. With a groan, Bolt clawed himself deeper into the street. I wonder if her friends would even notice. By the time he had mustered the courage to take the knife, the other Hawks had gone in pursuit of the killer. He had never seen anyone in such maddened states before. They sprinted faster than he had ever seen them run, even the fat one kept pace.

The sound of trickling water brought him back to reality. The night was nearly over. The thought of sleep invigorated his lopsided crawl. Pretty soon, he had reached the edge of the street, the divide between civilization’s dirt roads and nature’s wild grass. He had never been more eager to sink his knees into mud. To his left, the moon reflected off the black ripples of the river. He approached a mass of tents scattered throughout the riverbank. Each tent seemed to be alive. They gently flapped in the wind, supplemented by the rhythmic snoring of their inhabitants. It didn’t take long to find an empty tent. With a tired exhale, he crawled onto the stained sheets inside and fell asleep.

SASHA Bolt still hadn’t come back. Sasha had looked through all of Bolt’s favorite places: the church, the market, and now, the riverbanks near the tree they first met at. She walked through scattered tents, biting whatever nail was left to bite in her thumb. Each tent she peered into gave the same reaction. Men and women alike threw dirty blankets over their head to ignore the sun already high in the sky. At this rate, I’ll never find— “Sasha!” Sasha turned to see Bolt waving in the distance. A smile stretched across her face. She let out the breath she didn’t even know she was holding and headed toward him. “You never came back last—” Her smile disappeared when she saw the dried blood caked onto Bolt’s arm— “Holy shit, Bolt.” “It looks worse than it is.” Bolt gave her a strained smile. Sasha lifted up his sleeve to find a triangular scab etched into his arm. He now had almost as many scars as she did. “Alright?” she strained to keep her voice down. Her mouth twisted into a snarl, but upon seeing Bolt’s pale face, her lips parted into a weary smile. She exhaled and pulled Bolt into a tight embrace, resting her cheek on top of his prickly hair. Though he would hate her for thinking it, he felt frail. Bolt hugged her back. “I didn’t finish the drop. Sorry.” “It’s alright, Bolt. It happens.” It felt like he would crumble in her embrace. “Let’s get you home,” she said as she released him. They walked in silence. Sasha snuck occasional glances, but he never looked back. She kept this up until they cleared the mass of tents and neared the city. When she couldn’t take the silence anymore, she halted. “Bolt, what happened?” she asked, careful to keep her voice soft. “I just dropped the ball again. Another well-deserved scar,” Bolt said as if he was telling the punchline to some sadistic joke.

“We all have scars.” “But none like yours,” Bolt muttered. If Sasha hadn’t been listening so intently, she wouldn’t have caught it. The words were spoken like an accusation, clearly not words for her to hear. She fought the urge to trace the jagged white fissure that cut through her right eye. It was what had changed everything. She pretended not to have heard Bolt. Before this scar, Bolt would’ve laughed off a failed drop. She still couldn’t grasp what the scar meant to her family and she wasn’t ready to tackle the issue. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Bolt knew she had heard him. “It just sucks,” Bolt spat. “The world sucks.” “How can you say that when you’ve seen so little of it?” Sasha looked up at the cloudless sky. She could only imagine how infinitely it stretched. “I’ve seen just as much as you have.” “They say that in space, when you look down on the Earth, our cities look like stars.” “You don’t need to into space to see stars.” Bolt walked past her. A small frown flashed across Sasha’s face. Bolt’s mood would not be so easy to lift, but she was never one to turn from a challenge. She skipped ahead of Bolt and stopped him in his tracks. “But imagine running through those cities. I bet it’d be like flying through space— She leaned into Bolt with the widest smile her mouth could manage— “Someday, I’ll take you to Paris and show you what the stars look like from up close. And that’s a promise.” Bolt pursed his lips together. “If we ever get out of this place.” “When,” Sasha corrected him. “How can you be so sure?” Bolt returned her the hint of a smile. They both knew how she would answer. Sasha puffed out her chest and yelled, “just who the hell do you think I am?” Bolt burst into laughter and walked past her, his steps lighter. “Ridiculous,” he muttered. “You’re something else.”

“I’ve been told. Anyways, as soon as we get back home, you’re taking as much medicine as I can shove down your throat. Who knows what kind of filth the Hawk scratched into your arm.” “No need. The Hawk burned her blade before scarring me.” “What?” A loud snort escaped Sasha’s lips as she laughed. “How thoughtful!” She looked up to see Bolt eyeing her strangely. When she realized the sound she just made. Her stomach dropped. “You’re not telling anyone about that.” Bolt nodded at a silver pole in front of them, the sign they had returned back to civilization. “I don’t have to; it was caught on camera.” Attached to the pole hung various cameras pointed in all directions. They were as dark as the river. Over the past few years, these camera towers had sprung up like weed. Most of the city was under its scrutinizing gaze. Sasha frowned. “Let’s go home.” Where at least nobody is watching.

FLOWER Flower awoke to the sound of her name echoing through the alleys. She rubbed her eyes as if she could rub away her fatigue. With a drawn out yawn, she crawled out of her tent into the blinding sunlight. “Yes?” Her voice came our hoarse. She cringed at the taste of her morning breath. “Bolt’s back!” Sasha’s voice echoed down the alleyway. Sasha’s voice always projected so well. At times, Flower was jealous of it. Her own voice came out soft and timid, two things she never strived to be. Though if she were to ask the group what they thought of her, she would put money on soft and timid. It was because she was the smallest and the youngest, and no matter what she did, she’d always be. She stood facing the entrance to their home and waited. Home was a circle of tents at a dead end in an alleyway made due to erroneous city planning. Mostly likely, someone built a house where they should’ve built a road and were too lazy to fix it. It was a fitting place for them to live. “Bolt!” Flower called when he turned the corner. She ran into his open arms. “You had me so worried.” She gave him an innocent smile before swinging her fist into his shoulder. “Ow.” Bolt recoiled away from her. “What’d I do?” “You had me so worried!” Flower repeated, this time, as an accusation. “Didn’t you just wake up?” Flower brought her fists to her hips. “Only because I stayed up so late worrying about you.” “Spare him.” Sasha giggled. “He’s already been beat up enough.” Flower’s pout loosened into a concerned frown. “Where are you hurt?” “Mostly my shoulder, a thirteen-year-old girl just attacked me.” Flower ignored Sasha’s giggles. “Seriously Bolt, where?”

Bolt yelped while Flower prodded and squeezed his limbs. Admittedly, some of her techniques were made up. Whenever she could, she would read through medical books, but they were hard to understand and even harder to find. It took her only thirty minutes to clean and bandage all his cuts. When she was done, he looked like a mummy of torn cloth. As a final touch, she gave him some antibiotics and sent him to bed. As soon as he disappeared into his tent, Sasha and Flower broke into relieved laughter. No matter how many cuts they treated, it never got easier. “You know I almost prayed last night.” Sasha chuckled. “Don’t let Bolt hear you say that.” Flower grinned. “He’ll think that he’s converted you into a believer.” She purposefully omitted the fact that she had actually prayed. “Well then, hopefully he’s not eavesdropping.” Flower laughed at the image of Bolt with his ear pressed against his tent. “Bolt, if you can hear me, you’re an idiot.” They both waited a second. But by the way he had stumbled into his tent, neither believed he could still be awake. He probably fell asleep as soon as his body hit the ground. “I supposed we failed the drop then,” Flower said. “That makes four in a row.” “Which means we get one more before we lose three years’ worth of work.” Sasha nodded. “You have to tell them.” Flower gave Sasha an incredulous look. “They deserve to know what’s at stake.” Sasha took an exasperated breath. “God damn. We were so close.” “You act like we lost. Not everyone is on a moral crusade. Some of us are happy with just a meal in our stomachs.” “I wanted us to be more than that.”

“I know, but we would be the first Mice to ever finish the program. That’s got to count for something. If nothing else, it gets us enough money to die old.” Sasha grinned a toothy smile. “You’re too young to talk about dying old. Flower, I’ll tell them the truth. Let’s just hope they don’t freak out.” Flower let out a breath. She had worried that Sasha would fight her on this. If Sasha was so inclined, nobody in this world could match her stubbornness. “Oh, by the way Flower, could you run over to our last drop and see how they’re doing? That one isn’t too far from here.” Flower raised her eyebrows. “Why? It’s not like any of them ever care anyways.” “Because I asked you to.” Sasha bit her lower lip and gave Flower a hurtful look. Flower rolled her eyes. “I’m not Prince, you can’t just give me that look and have me do whatever you want.” Sasha giggled. “I bet he’s off causing trouble again,” Flower said with a rogue-like grin. “Before I left to find Bolt, I told Maverick to keep an eye on him.” “Like that would stop him.” They both knew how Prince was. Flower gave Sasha an impish gaze. “Speaking of Prince, have you had any more dreams—” “Stop.” “I didn’t say anything.” Flower bit her lower lip and replicated Sasha’s hurt look from earlier. “I feel like you always think I’m about to do something bad.” “You are.” Flower smiled, seeing Sasha’s ears starting to turn red. “You’re no fun.” “Go.” Sasha pointed toward the alley exit. “Fine, fine.” Flower left, chuckling.

PRINCE “You fucking cheated!” John’s face turned purple. His voice carried through the bar. Mismatched tables and chairs furnished this place. The only piece of furniture that wasn’t rotting or broken was the bar itself. Its polished oak contrasted sharply with the flaking wood of the other tables. Prince wanted to explain to John how impossible it was to cheat in chess, but instead just rolled his eyes, “Next time, don’t underestimate me,” Prince said with a waning grin. It had been a mistake to gamble with this man. John was the type of man who would rather accuse a fifteen-year-old boy of cheating than admit defeat. But I could probably win even more money from him. Prince thrust the thought from his mind, astounded by his own greed. Even when facing such a volatile man, his moneymaking schemes were so attractive. Luckily, he wasn’t that much a fool. “What did you say?” John clenched the table, sending quakes across the chessboard. His arms were pillars of flesh littered with scars. Even his face carried proof of battle. “You arrogant little shit, you’re lecturing me now?” “If I were to lecture you, I would teach you to be a more graceful loser,” Prince said, like a fool. Prince had always known he was reckless, but this bordered absurdity. Still, he understood why he couldn’t just walk away. He was a gambler. If the odds were enough in his favor, he would bet his life. The fact he had so many opportunities to do so was nothing short of a blessing. John swatted the chess table across the room. Every eye in the bar turned to see John’s shadow swallow Prince. “I’m going to give you one chance and one chance only to get down on your fucking knees and beg,” John growled. It was near impossible, but Prince kept his grin steady. “Sorry that you lost.” “What was that?”

The gamblers of the Riverside Tavern abandoned their games of cards and dice to watch the spectacle. They surrounded Prince and John, a ragtag circle of men dressed in clothes patched beyond recognition. Even the bartender, wearing his nice black vest, stopped washing glasses to listen in. John brandished a switchblade from his pocket. “Don’t think just because you’re a kid, I won’t hurt you.” “I don’t, but this bar belongs to The Dragon. That’s why you won’t hurt me.” Prince kept his voice level. “There’s a better way to decide these things.” John followed Prince’s gaze to the chessboard he had flung across the room. “Or do you think you’re going to lose again, John?” “Ha.” The laugh sounded forced. John glanced at his friends behind him and then at the crowd around him. “Fine.” “Good.” Prince leaned back in his chair to steady his trembling leg. The floor creaked under him in complaint. Suddenly, John stabbed his knife deep into the polished table. Prince jumped and fell backwards. He shot his legs up and caught the bottom of the table, stopping his descent. A sharp yelp escaped his lips, betraying his fear. What Prince lost in confidence, John gained. “I don’t care if The Dragon owns this bar. Cheat again and this knife is going straight up your ass,” John said. He plucked the knife out and placed it on the table. “Dmitri, Owen, set the chessboard back up for us.” Dmitri and Owen separated from the crowd to do so. “So the usual bet?” Prince’s voice came out unintentionally weak. “Tenfold that.” Both knew that Prince couldn’t afford that gamble. Prince opened his mouth to refuse but before he could, he saw John’s smile. It was the smile of man used to the world submitting to him. “I’ll go first.”

For the first time since he had beaten John, a genuine smile spread across his mouth. Without a moment’s hesitation, he advanced the pawn in front of his queen. If he was good at anything, it was this. If John was at all nervous, it didn’t show. He rubbed his chin with two fingers and moved his bishop across the board, jumping over his line of pawns. “Check.” Prince half expected him to take it back with a crude joke, but nothing happened. “Are we making up our own rules now?” “You cheated last time, so I’m cheating this time.” “I didn’t—” Prince stopped. Reason held no power against this man. Prince hadn’t considered the scenario that John would never admit defeat. He eyed John’s knife. Winning was probably more dangerous than losing. There was only one thing left to do. He stood and lunged forward, swinging a small fist into John’s face. The blow connected and bounced off. John buried his fist into Prince’s stomach. Prince stumbled backwards and with a croak, purged himself of his lunch. He grabbed the table to steady himself but only ended up tipping it over as he collapsed. Everything on the table spilled to the floor. The chessboard, the chess pieces, and John’s knife. “What did you expect would happen?” John sounded amused. “I’m bigger and stronger. No matter how many tricks you have up your sleeves, I’ll always come out on top. That’s life.” The words were faint, even the cheering of the crowd sounded muffled. With quivering arms, Prince crawled forward until he laid on top of the knife. He met John’s eyes for a second before he lurched over to dry heave. “Beg,” John said, crouched in front of Prince. A quick scan around confirmed what Prince already figured. The crowd smiled eagerly. People pushed and pulled each other to get a closer view. These pathetic adults wouldn’t help him. Prince pushed himself onto his knees. He brought his head down until it touched the vomit on the floor. “That’s right. Do it proper now with your head to the floor,” John said.

“Fuck you,” Prince yelled, still out of breath. He never intended to beg. In this position, nobody could see him tuck the knife into his shorts. “You have a death wish kid?” Prince ignored him. “My turn,” he said, looking at the chess board. John shook his head. “Fine, Owen, Dmitri, set it back up, just like how it was before.”

Even the smallest movements sent waves of nausea through Prince. He clamped a hand over his mouth and took great care not to move too fast. By the time he sat back down, the chessboard had already been set up. “The offer still stands, beg for mercy.” Prince had no sharp retort to give. Even if he did, saying it would cost too much energy. He moved his knight to block John’s bishop. “These pawns remind me of you.” John jumped his rook in front of his pawns. “They were made to be stepped on. They shouldn’t get in the way of the more powerful pieces.” “Only an idiot would underestimate a pawn,” Prince responded in barely a whisper. Move after move, John’s advantage grew. The crowd stayed silent, watching Prince bleed pieces. At last, he was down to some pawns, his rook, and his queen. But John had not come out unscathed, he had lost most of his pawns throwing them recklessly into Prince. “You’re too careless,” Prince said taking John’s last pawn. By now, he could talk without trouble. “They’re only pawns.” John moved. “Then I guess you won’t mind this.” Prince moved his queen. “Check.” John shrugged and retreated with his king. “Check,” Prince said moving his pawn up.

“You’re going to send your pawns after me now?” John moved his king back again. “Do you see how weak your precious pawns are? I’m right next to them and there’s nothing they can do!” Prince moved his queen into a space protected by his pawn. “Checkmate.” Silence. John stared at the chessboard as his face turned a deep violet. “What?” His trembling hand hovered over his rooks and bishops, but none were able to help. A line of pawns blocked their way. “Even if you cheat, I’ll still win,” Prince said. In a single instant, the table was gone, flung away by John’s monstrous arms. Every fiber of Prince’s body screamed to run. His legs twitched and his heart was a jackhammer, but he remained still. John clamped his hands around Prince’s neck and lifted Prince up until his feet left the ground. The crowd around them came to life, screaming and clapping. Now! Prince thrust the knife into John’s stomach. The blade tore through John’s skin, but stopped at his wall of muscle. With wide eyes, John dropped Prince. As soon as Prince’s feet hit the floor, he sprang up and tackled the knife. It tore through John’s body with a sickly rip. John screamed as he fell to the ground. Prince stood over John. The words came out scratchy, but they were impossible to miss. “Don’t ever underestimate me.” Through the roaring crowd, Prince heard a click. He looked up and stared straight into the barrel of a pistol.

LAO It sure is noisy today. “What’s going on?” Lao asked. The bar fell into complete silence. The circle of people around Prince opened to allow Lao through. Even the man with a knife in his stomach stopped screaming. The metallic glint of a pistol caught Lao’s eye. Lao ignored Prince. He stepped over the bleeding man to stand face-to-face with the gunman, moving as if he had all the time in the world. “What’s your name?” he asked. “Owen.” Owen’s gun dropped to his sides. His face drained of color. The crowd around Owen backed away. Lao undid the buttons of his white tuxedo. What was to come would be messy and white was the hardest color to clean. Unfortunately, his entire outfit was white, from his shoes to his dress pants to his cowboy hat. “Do you know my policy on guns, Owen?” Lao asked. “It won’t happen again,” Owen said, his eyes to his feet. Lao gently slapped Owen’s cheek until he caught his eyes. “I’m sorry Owen, you’re muttering. What was that?” “It won’t happen again Mr. Dragon.” Lao shook his head. “No. You may call me The Dragon or even Dragon, but never Mister. Mister refers to men of more refined qualities. I’m a simple man.” “I’m sorry Dragon.” “So, is it that my policy on guns is unclear? I thought it was rather straight forward, but then again, we humans are rather stupid creatures.” Owen shook his head, his lower lip quivering.

“So you’re telling me that you, having perfectly understood my rules, deliberately chose to break them.” “No, it’s not like that.” “So you’re saying that it’s my fault for having unclear rules.” “Please Dragon, it was a mistake. I was only trying to protect my friend.” The gun dropped from Owen’s hand and clattered on the ground. “Which friend?” Owen looked toward the man bleeding on the floor. “John.” “And what were you protecting him from?” “Well…” Owen’s voice dropped. “The boy.” Lao looked over to see Prince. “Are you trying to be funny?” “No sir.” Lao turned toward the crowd. “Can anyone tell me what happened?” Only Prince’s erratic coughs responded. “Alright then.” Lao stepped up to John. He placed his shoes on top of the knife in John’s stomach, careful not to press too hard, lest he dirty his shoes with blood. “How about you tell me what happened, friend of Owen?” John clenched his teeth together and groaned. He squeezed his eyes shut and twisted his head away from Lao. “I don’t know him,” he grunted through the pain. “I’ve never seen that man before in my life.” Lao took his feet off the knife. He turned back to Owen who somehow looked even paler than before. “No, Dmitri, back me up,” Owen stammered. “I don’t know you,” someone said from the crowd. “No. Guys, please.” “Dragon.” A poisonous voice called out from behind Lao.

Without having to look, he knew who the voice came from. He turned toward the voice. “The last time I saw you, I nearly had you killed. Is Sasha coming here to save you again? After all, she still has one more eye to give me.” Prince clenched his jaw shut. Once again stepping over Owen’s friend, Lao approached Prince. He was used to looking down at people, but never literally. Luckily, Prince was short, even for a boy. The Dragon grinned. “You seem to bring trouble with you wherever you go.” Two dark blue eyes glared back. “Perhaps you can tell me what’s going on,” Lao said. “This is what happens to those who think they’re untouchable.” Lao ignored Prince’s obvious threat. If there was anything that could overpower his ego, it was his curiosity. “How did you do this?” Prince gave no answer. Lao frowned at the silence. When he said ‘jump’, he expected even the crippled to leave the ground. “How?” Even Prince had sense enough to not push his luck. “We were gambling and I didn’t think he would pay me, so I stole his knife.” Prince looked down at his ripped shorts, showing Lao the hole in it. “When he attacked me, I had the knife.” Lao nodded satisfied. “How does Sasha keep finding such interesting company?” He laughed, genuinely impressed. “Alright then, you can leave now.” “No.” Prince nodded at John. “He still owes me money.” Lao dug into his pocket and produced a few neatly folded twenty dollar bills. He dropped three on the ground in front of Prince. “Prince, do you know why I hate humans? Look at how fast Owen’s friends abandoned him. Is it not strange that friendship means so little when it’s supposed to mean the most? Not even animals can sell each other out so fast. There is nothing more disgusting than humans and this is the proof.” “You’re human too.”

“A damning accusation indeed.” Prince looked unamused. “Relax,” Lao chuckled. “I’m only joking. However unfortunate, I cannot deny my part in this vulgar race.” “You’re wrong about humans.” With a single eyebrow raised, Lao nodded toward Owen. “You are currently looking at the man who was betrayed by the very friend he almost killed for. This is my proof, where is yours?” “Two months ago. The girl who nearly blinded herself to save me.” Lao laughed, his entire body shaking with its force. “Well said. Now leave.” When Prince left, Lao returned his attention to Owen. “Now where were we?” He extended out his pointer finger and thumb into a makeshift gun and brought it up to Owen’s forehead. “Ah yes, pow.”

MAVERICK It had been a while since Maverick had last blinked. Despite the scorching sun, and the crowd of people pushing past him, he stood completely still, staring at the television as if in a trance. It depicted a foreign land with grass and paved roads. The women had flawless skin while the men wore immaculate smiles. He was sure even the weather there was perfect. The best part about the show was the music. Music like that didn’t exist anywhere else but the TV. With his finger, he rubbed his front teeth as if he could clean the yellow stains from them. Not even his skin could compare with the heroes of the TV, least of all the arms too long for his body and ears too big for his head. I’ll grow into my body. These words were recited at least once a week. He hated the pains he felt in his joints every morning. Flower had told him he was just going through puberty. Apparently, it was natural. “What’s going on?” Dave asked. Maverick had been so engrossed in the show he had forgotten Dave was here. He had even forgotten the reason he was here in the first place. A quick glance at the Riverside Tavern confirmed that Prince had not yet left. He hoped that Prince was behaving himself, but was not stupid enough to bet on it. “It’s a romance,” Maverick said. He spoke with a light Russian accent, the only gift his parents had ever given him. Dave rubbed his chin, moving apart thin grey bristles. “What’s their problem?” “The man’s Jewish and the woman’s Catholic. They love each other but their families cannot accept them.” “Bah,” Dave scoffed. “Ridiculous. What does that matter?” “God seems to be a big deal. Everyone is trying to figure Him out.” “If everyone’s still trying to figure Him out, why do they all come here claiming to know the one true God?” Maverick shrugged.

Dave took a coin from his pocket and held it in the air. “This is the God I believe in. It keeps me fed and it keeps me warm. Until another God can do that, I’ll put my faith in this one.” “So then why do you go to so many different churches?” “Because missionaries always bear gifts.” Dave gave Maverick a wide smile. “I’ll believe in a million gods if each one is holding some food and wine.” Maverick laughed. “One God is already enough. I don’t think I could handle a million.” “Maverick, at your age, you should only be concerned with your next meal. Eating is a far greater joy than praying.” Maverick looked at Dave’s protruding stomach. “You’ve taken your own advice.” Dave let out a rumbling laugh. “Yes, I’ve been happy for quite a while now.” His eyes twinkled with humor. “So, why are you here, surely you’re not here just to hang out with an old man? You helping your damsel in distress?” Maverick thought back to his damsel and laughed. “Yeah right.” Sasha could never be called a damsel in distress. Not even his vast imagination could change her firm commands into the sweet pleading he would’ve liked to hear. From the corner of his vision, he saw Prince leaving the Riverside Tavern. Sasha was going to be livid when he told her he couldn’t stop Prince. Truth be told, he never even tried. He had been too distracted by the TV to do anything. While Prince had his gambling addiction, he had his TV one. At least his addiction could never hurt anyone. “They say it’s going to rain soon,” Dave said. Maverick looked up at the sky. There were only a few wisps of clouds. “Really now.” “It’s supposed to be the storm of the century. Wind so strong it’ll blow a baby out of her mother’s arms.” It hadn’t rained in months. Maverick saw no reason why it ever would. “As long as it rains, I’m okay with anything.” Dave nodded, serious. “Best prepare though, this one’s going to be bad.” “Alright.” With visible strain, he pulled his eyes away from the TV. “Duty calls.”

“I’ll see you later Maverick and remember, buy an umbrella.” With a nod, Maverick weaved his way through the streets, sneaking up on the unsuspecting Prince.

PRINCE “Gambling again?” Prince jumped. “Jesus Maverick! You scared me.” Maverick waited for an answer. “I was just in the Riverside Tavern to grab a drink, that’s all.” Maverick crossed his arms, waiting for Prince to admit the truth. Prince raised his arms as if at gunpoint. “What? Are you going to search me?” With a small shake of his head, Maverick started walking. “Let’s go.” “Do you follow me around everywhere I go now?” Prince asked. “Only when Sasha tells me to.” Maverick’s response was crisp. “Why is it that I never see you coming?” “It’s a talent.” “What talent? Creepiness? Probably from years of being a creep.” “Then I guess it’s a skill.” Maverick’s eyes remained forward, like he couldn’t be bothered to even look at Prince. “No, it’s just weird,” Prince said. “Are you ever going to stop following me around?” “Are you ever going to stop gambling?” “Get a life.” Prince knew that his anger was misplaced, but he didn’t care. A few minutes ago he had his windpipe crushed by a man who looked down on him for his size. Now, he was being lectured for it. Even worse, it came by Sasha’s command. “Are you going to do everything she tells you to do? What if she tells you to bark? Sasha can’t babysit us forever.” “That’s because I’ll grow up.” Prince’s breath caught in his throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Maverick turned toward Prince with an amused expression, as if pointing out a stark irony in Prince’s words. “Wait a second, do you think you’re babysitting me right now?” “Only because Sasha told me to.” Prince exploded. “Sasha says sit so you sit. Sasha says fetch so you fetch. What are you, her dog?” Maverick grinned. “If I’m the dog, then you must be the stick I fetch. Personally, I’d rather be the dog.” “At least the stick doesn’t put himself in a collar.” Maverick shrugged. “But eventually, we throw away the stick.” He stopped walking with a bemused smile. “And if the dog doesn’t bring it back, it’s left in the ground.” The wider Maverick’s smile grew, the hotter Prince’s anger burned. “And sometimes, it’s the same stick used to beat the dog, to teach it when not to bark!” Prince’s voice carried across the street earning him strange looks. “But in this case, the dog would break the stick in two.” Maverick stepped towards Prince, looming over him. “The stick would be stupid to even go near the dog.” His mouth was curved into the same grin John had worn. Prince looked away. He knew the exact words he could say to start a fight; they were stuck in his throat. But he had been in enough altercations with Maverick to know how the fight would turn out. Despite Maverick’s skinny build, he was strong and his fist always carried the force of his body. “I’d rather be abandoned than neutered,” Prince said. It was a compromise, words that danced around the real issue. With a slight nod, Maverick continued walking home with Prince behind him. “You can love a neutered dog, but you can’t love a broken stick.” Fuck compromises. “But only a dog can lead his master to death.” Even as the words left his mouth, Prince knew he would regret them.

In a flash, Maverick was upon him, his elbow pressed against Prince’s neck. For the second time in under ten minutes, Prince choked. Maverick’s usual poise disintegrated as his dark eyes danced in fury. “You think that was my fault?” Maverick growled. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been at Hawk’s Lair then, begging for someone to come save you.” He shoved Prince against the wall and stepped away. “Nobody asked for your help,” Prince growled back, massaging his neck. “I saved your life.” “And you almost killed Sasha. It should’ve been me who paid the price, not her!” “I agree.” “So then why?” “If it was my choice, we would’ve left you there.” “Then whose choice was it?” Prince screamed. Silence ensued. Even the bustle of the marketplace seemed to fade. Maverick took a deep breath and unclenched his fists. “Sasha’s.” Prince looked away. After a deep breath, he cursed. “Shit!” He turned to Maverick. “Listen, Mav. I’m sorry, alright? Things just should’ve turned out different is all.” With a single nod, Maverick turned to walk home. For the rest of the way, neither spoke.

SASHA Sasha sprawled across a blanket on the dirt floor. She yawned, stretching out her arms and legs. “A king is the embodiment of his ideals. His loyalty is not to his subjects, but to the reason why he took the crown.” The pages of the book sagged, displaying its age. “In this regard, those resolved to being king must also be resolved to being a slave, a servant toward his own impossible goals.” Or her own impossible goals. “Ugh,” she groaned. Reading a book twice was a chore, no matter how great the first read was. The only reason she was so intent on the second read was because the book had been written by none other than The Dragon himself. She rolled over so she faced the sky. The sparse clouds proved quite calming. Where is everyone? But if anyone knew that answer, it was her. She watched the clouds roll away. She let the book slip from her hands and closed her eyes. “Sasha.” Prince’s voice echoed down the alley. Sasha didn’t bother looking, she could hear his footsteps. Although it was a little harder to pinpoint Maverick’s she knew that he was close behind. “Prince. Mav.” “How many times have you read that book?” Maverick asked. Sasha pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Almost twice.” Maverick walked up to her and leaned against a nearby wall. “Is it another encyclopedia?” Though the tone of his voice didn’t change much, Sasha knew he was teasing her. She grabbed the book and held it up for Maverick to see. “Nope. This is The Dragon’s thoughts on King Arthur.” Maverick raised his eyebrows. “I know, what a find, right?” Prince sat beside Sasha. “Did you find Bolt?”

“Yep, he’s asleep right now.” Both Prince and Maverick fell silent, ignoring the question they both wanted to ask. “We failed the drop,” Sasha answered. “Bolt was scarred, but he’s okay now.” Maverick shook his head. “Fucking hawks.” “Fucking Hawks,” Prince agreed. “So, what have you guys been up to?” “Gambling,” Maverick said coolly. Sasha’s teeth crunched together. Prince looked away from her glaring eyes. “Maverick, give us a minute,” Sasha said. Maverick was gone before her sentence had finished. Prince snuck nervous glances at her. “Prince, is this true?” she asked. Prince closed his eyes and swallowed. “Yes.” He looked at his twiddling toes. “God damn it Prince!” Sasha jumped to her feet and began a practiced scold. Even after hearing this exact speech hundreds of times before, Prince still shuddered. He continued his drawn-out stare with his feet. “Prince, look at me.” Sasha grabbed Prince’s arm. “Nothing good can come from gambling. Why do you even need to gamble? We make enough money to feed ourselves. Tell me what you need so badly and I’ll get it for you, but for god’s sake, stop gambling!” Prince was a statue. His distant eyes remained frozen. “Prince, what are you using the money for?” Sasha waited for a response. She got none. It felt like she was talking to a wall. “You don’t need to tell me everything, but please tell me the important things. What are you hiding from me?” “I’m not hiding anything.” His sheepish response couldn’t convince a baby. “Gambling isn’t a game, it’s dangerous! You of all people should know that.” “I know! But –” Prince shut up. “Honestly Prince, what will it take for you to understand?”

Prince’s eyes fell to his feet. When no answer came, Sasha said, “Would you like me to lose my other eye for you?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished to take them back. Prince gasped. He looked up with a pained expression, tracing the scar on her face. His body tensed, and his dark blue eyes became distant. No doubt, he was reliving that time at Hawk’s Lair. Seeing Prince this way brought back her own memories of that place. Back then, she suffocated on the smell of cigarettes and liquor. Stop. With a shake of her head, she returned to reality. “After all, it would be ugly if I didn’t get a matching one!” Sasha forced a smile onto her face, chuckling at her own joke. Changing her tone so abruptly sounded strange. Prince stared straight through her. “I was joking, relax! Why do you have to take me so seriously all the time?” Prince’s eyes grew hazier by the second. His fists clenched tighter as his arms trembled. With a quick step forward, Sasha slammed her knuckles into his arm. “Ow!” Prince jumped backwards. Before Prince could defend himself, Sasha clipped him once more. “Ow! Stop!” Sasha ignored him and leaned into a third punch. This one hit him straight in the shoulder. It hurt her knuckles. Prince fell backwards against the wall. Sasha stepped toward him. Prince shut his eyes to prepare for the impending blow, but it never came. Instead, Sasha ruffled his hair. “I’m the worrier and you’re the gambler, don’t confuse us.” Prince cautiously opened one eye. He opened his mouth but could find no words. Sasha capitalized on his shock to change the subject. “Honestly, men are such idiots. Tell them a few nice words and they melt right in front of you.”

Prince gave her a small smile. “Flower will be back soon, then we can talk about the drop,” she said.

LAO The acrid charcoal smell of burnt flesh lingered in the air. “Welcome to the Dragon’s Pit.” Lao took off his hat and placed it at the entrance. “At least that’s what my men call this place, a rather tasteless name if you ask me. I apologize for the smell, a man died here not too long ago.” Lao looked across the room at his unfortunate guest. The man stood completely still, his feet shackled onto the floor and his hands tied behind him. Bruises in varying stages of yellow and blue covered the man’s body. His shredded shirt barely clung on. “I only have three rules.” Lao walked up to the man, staring into his golden eyes. Sweat dripped from the man’s hair. A single lightbulb illuminated the windowless concrete walls and blackened ceiling. Lao didn’t mind that the man kept quiet. He wasn’t sure if the man physically could talk. It was entirely possible that his jaw had been broken or tongue cut off. “The first rule is that I control violence. You want someone hurt? You come to me.” He circled the man who began coughing. No doubt, breathing was hard for him, especially with the noose around his neck. “The second rule is that I control entertainment. I am responsible for all the games that are played in this city and because of it, I take interference very seriously.” Lao kicked the man in the back. The chains around his feet clacked but held steady. His body lunged forward until only the noose held his body up, choking the life out of him. “The third rule is that my judgment is absolute.” Lao circled the man until he was face-to-face with him. “There will be no courts or trials, we humans do not deserve that much. You killed a Hawk. You violated my first two rules. Would you like to defend yourself?” Lao grabbed the man by his hair and pulled him back upright, glaring into his eyes. “If you wish to defend yourself, now is the time.”

The man coughed for a while, regaining his breath. When he did, he began laughing. The laugh was deep and slow, filling the air with a depressing undertone. It persisted throughout his coughing fit. Are you taking me seriously? Lao yanked the man’s head and threw him backwards so he was once again upright on his own. The man swayed and eventually found his balance. “Dragon,” He said with a raspy voice. “Do you think you can hurt me?” His eyes were so bloodshot they looked red. “I do,” Lao responded. The man shook his head against the rope. “Is that your defense?” Lao asked. “I have no defense. I wish you had killed me sooner.” His voice cracked. “Maybe then, she’d still be alive.” “So, are you ready to confess?” “You wouldn’t understand.” The man trembled and his voice followed suit. “I loved her, she was the reason I was able to go on for as long as I did, just to see her one last time.” His body convulsed, hit by another coughing fit. It didn’t take him long to regain his breath, and when he did, his voice wilted. “She was so beautiful, more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined. Dragon, I didn’t know that it was her. I didn’t…” His words were replaced by his sobs. Suddenly, he shrieked and lunged toward Lao only to be stopped by the noose. “I didn’t know!” he screamed, again and again. Lao watched from a careful distance. “I thought I recognized you.” He placed a gentle hand on the man’s cheek. His thumb caressed the crescent shaped birthmark under the man’s eye. “There’s not very many people in the world with a birthmark like yours. There was probably only two, well… now just you.” Thick tears dropped from the man’s eyes. “I killed her. But why was she a Hawk?” Lao grinned, the grin of a cat with his claws on the mouse’s tail. “Because of me.” “You’ll get what you deserve, Dragon. The Lions are coming back.”

“I don’t take well to empty threats.” Lao walked behind the man and kicked him forward. He fell until the noose yanked up, choking the sobs out of his body. “Tell me, did you ever ask her name? I remember you gave her a rather strange one. Tiaren, was it?” The man tried to push words through his collapsed throat. His mouth moved and his tongue flailed but no sound came out. Reaching into his jacket, Lao procured a large silver flask. Tiny engravings shimmered in the light as the smell of gasoline dissipated into the air. “Did you even exchange words? You know, before you killed her.” Lao put the flask to his lips and threw his head back. His stomach lurched forward, rejecting its revolting contents. Some of it spluttered out of his mouth but he managed to choke it down. It was unbelievably bitter and sour, tasting worse than it smelled, and it smelled like poison. “If the Lions are truly coming back, so be it. I killed them once, I can do it again.” Lao poured the rest over the man’s head. The man shuddered and thrashed. The iron around his limbs rang like bells as his body twisted in what looked like a ritualistic dance. Despite the man’s claim to have accepted death, he now fought harder than ever. “Everyone ends the same.” Lao said above the terrified gurgling of the man. “In the most pathetic way possible.” Lao retrieved a cigarette from his jacket pocket. He lit it and took a massive drag, trying to smother his taste buds in its disgusting smoke. “Repulsive,” Lao said. “But you have your punishment and I have mine.” He flicked the cigarette onto the man. Blue flames swallowed the man whole. Like all deaths in here, it came in near silence. The crackling of the flames, the soft clang of iron, and the man’s breathless screams. Lao stared into the flames. “You will either burn to death or choke to death. Too bad you can’t do both.” He spat into the fire and walked away.

SASHA Sasha had the clouds to keep her company. Maverick wasn’t one to talk much and Prince was still cooling down from her scolding. For the past few minutes, Sasha had been beating herself up over what happened. Her scar was still too touchy of a subject. “I’m home!” Flower’s voice echoed around the corner. Sasha nearly jumped up in relief. “How’d it go?” “Don’t send me on some pointless errand just so you have time to read,” Flower said with a pout. She gave Prince and Maverick a nod as she entered. “It didn’t go well?” “What do you think? Once again, ungrateful and rude.” Sasha frowned, taking note. “I find it hard to believe that not a single person would take the time to thank us. You know, since we saved their lives and all that.” “You can go yourself if you don’t believe me. I’m done checking up on these people.” “Its fine, I believe you.” Flower scowled. “The nerve of some of these people, it’s like they expect us to die for them. They don’t get that we could just as easily throw away the pills and still get paid enough to eat. Honestly, that’s what we should do.” Sasha giggled. “We can’t do that.” “I don’t see why not?” Flower did not share her amusement. She took a seat across from Sasha. “Because—” “Because we’re the proud Mice of this city. And we earn our bread!” Prince exclaimed. He shot Sasha a sideways glance. Sasha rolled her eyes. “I don’t sound like that.” But the fact Prince had made fun of her meant he was returning to his old self. “Close enough.” Maverick nodded in agreement.

They all laughed at Sasha’s expense. She put on a fake frown. “Laugh all you want, but I know how I sound like.” “Just like how you know you don’t snore?” Prince laughed through his words. “I don’t!” The only responses she got were muffled giggles. Before anyone else could continue their attack, Sasha stood up. “Alright guys, let’s wake Bolt up and start our meeting.” “Fine,” Prince said. Though Sasha frowned, she was glad. “Bolt, wake up!” Bolt’s tent rustled. He crawled out rubbing the gunk from his eyes. “Does anyone have food?” Sasha shook her head. “You’ll have to wait until after the meeting.” “What time is it?” “The sun’s going to set in like two hours.” Maverick answered. “You’ve been out for quite a while.” “It’s been that long huh?” Bolt stumbled forward and sat down next to Maverick. “Have we had our meeting yet?” “We’re about to,” Sasha said. “But I wanted you to be awake for this one. You have to tell us about the Lion.” Everyone quieted. All eyes were on Bolt. Lions were adult version of Hawks. While Hawks scarred, Lions maimed. They were the most feared predator of Mice up until the day they all disappeared. Prince was the first to break the silence. “You saw a Lion?” “Well, I’m not sure if it was a real one. It was just an adult that stole my pills.” Bolt’s eyes dropped. “I’ve never seen one before so I wouldn’t know.” Maverick shook his head. “If he was an adult and he was going for the pills, then we can assume he’s a Lion.”

“So Lions are finally coming back,” Prince said. “I was wondering where they disappeared to.” “So what are we going to do?” Flower scratched her head. She wore a look of concern. The stories they left behind were horrific. “Nothing’s changed,” Prince announced. “We’ll keep doing what we’ve always been doing, deliver the medicine to its destination.” “Stop.” Sasha held up a hand to silence everyone else. Four pairs of worried eyes turned to her. “We don’t know anything. One adult doesn’t mean that the Lions are coming back. This could’ve been random for all we know. Hell, we don’t even know why they disappeared in the first place.” Prince shrugged. “I say good riddance. We don’t need to know why; we should just hope that it happens again.” “We need to see the bigger picture,” Sasha protested. “Forget the bigger picture. We just need to worry about how we’re getting our next meal. Plus, we may only have one drop left before we never have to worry about it again. Why bother now?” Before Sasha could respond, Maverick spoke up. “I agree with Prince.” Flower let out an audible gasp. Not even Prince could hide his surprise. Maverick leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. “There’s a lot of weird stuff going on right now that we don’t get. We won’t get it by talking about it either, so let’s talk about the things we do get.” “I never thought I would see the day…” Flower reflected everyone’s thoughts. Bolt was the first to laugh. One by one, they all broke out into a chorus of laughter. “Fine,” Sasha said. “Let’s talk about drops—” she took a deep breath “— but before we get into it, I have to tell you guys something. Do you remember the contract we signed when becoming Mice?” “You mean the one we all definitely read?” Prince said with a lopsided grin. “Well... there was something I didn’t tell you. We get fired after failing five drops in a row. Right now, we’re at four.”

Three jaws dropped. A mouse couldn’t sneak by in that silence.

PRINCE Fire coursed through Prince’s chest. “You didn’t think we had a right to know?” He had trouble keeping his voice down. “Since, you know, everything we’ve ever worked toward is at stake.” “We were doing so well it never mattered,” Sasha replied sheepishly. “Until now,” she tacked on muttering. “So this next drop decides it all.” Even Maverick’s voice quivered. “We either end as the only Mice to complete their contract or nothing.” Sasha nodded, more of a twitch of her head anything else. “Why didn’t you tell us from the start?” Prince asked. Sasha nibbled her lower lip. “I wanted us to finish drops for better reasons.” “And that’s supposed to mean what exactly?” “A lot of Mice slack off. Some even take the medicine and sell it to Hawks. I wanted to make sure we were doing drops for the right reasons. To save lives.” “What are we? A fairytale band of orphaned angels? If we get fired, we don’t eat!” For once, it was Sasha who couldn’t make eye contact. “What are we going to do?” Bolt asked. “We finish the drop,” Maverick answered. “No matter what.” “And how are we supposed to do that?” Prince shouted. Maverick gave him an empty stare. “Knives.” A whisper, barely audible even in the silence. It took Prince a second to realize that it had been Bolt who said it. “If we can’t run, the only alternative is to fight,” Bolt said. With every word, his gaze dropped further to the ground. He pulled out a knife, its tip charred black, and dropped it in front of him.

“No.” Sasha’s voice was resolute. There was nothing left of the sheepish girl from just a few minutes ago. She glared at Bolt with a look they all knew too well. There was no fighting her. “Do you plan on stacking bodies until we win? I won’t let you.” Bolt shrank away from Sasha’s stare. “But we can’t lose,” Bolt muttered. “Killing is for Lions and Hawks. We’re Mice and Mice don’t kill.” Bolt pressed his lips together. “Alright,” he said. “Forget I said—” “Is dying for Mice then?” Prince asked. He thought back to his encounter with John. Without a knife, he wouldn’t have made it out alive. “We’re the only Mice I’ve ever heard of going on drops unarmed and we can’t fail the next one.” “So you’ll just cut every Hawk that gets in your way?” “Better than losing everything. Better than getting cut.” Sasha crossed her arms. “I’d rather take a few scars than become killers.” Prince stole a quick glance toward Sasha’s scar. I won’t let you. Before that scar, he may have conceded, but now, he glared at her with embers in his eyes. “And if the alternative is being killed?” She returned his glare in kind. “There was another murder last week,” Maverick said. The sudden change in topic surprised everyone. “Another Hawk. People are calling him The Slasher. My point is, the city’s dangerous. We need to be able to defend ourselves.” “No. We’ve already made it this far. We can do one more.” Sasha’s voice softened as she looked at Prince. “Please.” Flower and Bolt gasped at the word. Sasha was never one to plead, she rarely even asked. All eyes fell on Prince. No more scars. “Fine,” Prince lied. With one hand in his pocket, he crunched up his gambling winnings. It afforded him three good knives. “I mean, Sasha asking nicely? How can I say no?”

Sasha’s teeth crunched together. She stared daggers through him. “You’re not fooling anyone, Prince. You’re going to buy the knives anyway, aren’t you?” “No way.” Prince gave her a blank stare. Sasha stood and stepped toward Prince, looking down at him. “And with your gambling money?” Her question sounded like an attack. Prince stood as well, the tip of his hair reaching her forehead. “You don’t have to worry about how I spend my money.” Sasha stepped toward Prince, looking down at him. “Hand it over.” None of this surprised Prince. Even when they were starving, Sasha refused to touch his money. She didn’t want to encourage his gambling. He had thought that hunger would break her, but she lasted until they got paid, three days later. He both loved and hated that part of her. Prince looked around, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. Sasha’s word was final. After all, they owed their lives to her. In particular, Prince owed double that and a new eye. Still, repayment came in many forms, even if it meant butting heads. He bit into his knuckle as his thumb slipped the ball of money into his mouth. “Your move, Prince.” The dollar bills tasted salty. He could only imagine the places they had been. With pretend reluctance, he reached into his pocket and spilled his spare coins onto the ground. Sasha stepped forward, shaking her head. “The rest of it.” Prince didn’t say a word. Sasha knew him too well to give in to his tricks. His face crunched up with fake anger. He reached into his pocket and this time flung a twenty-dollar bill directly at Sasha’s face. She didn’t even blink. “Prince.” Sasha drummed her fingers impatiently. It’s no use. “What?” Prince growled with clenched teeth. He shot his hands into his pockets and turned them inside out. Strings of linen floated down around him. Before Sasha could continue her search, Prince turned and ran. He felt the edges of Sasha’s fingers graze him.

MAVERICK Leave it to Prince to make such a scene. One look at Sasha and Maverick knew what was coming. “Okay, okay, I’m on my way.” Maverick sighed and followed after Prince. He could never understand why Sasha cared so much for Prince. All he ever did was cause her trouble. “We should be running.” Bolt jogged behind him. “We’ll lose him at this rate.” “No we won’t. I know where he’s going.” “Where?” “The only place in this dump that sells decent knives.” Bolt scratched his head. “But he gave all his money to Sasha.” Maverick rolled his eyes and sighed. It wasn’t worth explaining to Bolt. Only an idiot would take Prince at face value. By the time they arrived at the store, the sun had nearly set. There was barely enough light to see ‘Jynx’s Shop’ carved into a large clay building. Jynx’s Shop took up the space of three houses and looked like it belonged in the stone ages. Crude squares pocketed its sides as makeshift windows. Maverick gave the door three sharp knocks, simply out of habit. The knock Mice used at the end of every drop. “We’re closed,” a female voice shouted. “I’m here for Prince.” Just as Maverick was about to knock again, he heard a click. The door swung open to reveal a young woman. Maverick caught himself tracing the length of her body. She wore a sweat-stained button-up and black skirt that fell right above her knees. He forced his gaze back to her eyes. Emerald and violet twinkled inside her irises like stars. Beautiful. “Come on in.” The woman moved out of the way to reveal a well-lit room. Strings of lightbulbs shone from the ceiling. “My name is Jynx.”

Maverick followed in after Bolt. It felt like he had hit a wall of heat. His feet burned on the floor and each stale breath urged him back outside. It was hard imagining anyone being in this house for more than a few hours, never mind living here. Still, there were many strange artifacts around the room to distract him from the heat. Piles of books stacked in one corner, in another, were shoes of various colors. Strange tribal masks hung on the wall. Some were demonic, blood red with fangs. Others were completely blank, simply a piece of white wood with eye holes. Towards the back of the room was a glass display of knives. Prince stood there, eyeing the knives intently. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get some knives,” Prince said. Bolt’s eyebrows shot up. “But Sasha—” “Do you have the money?” Maverick crossed his arms. He could feel his sweat accumulating. But if Prince could stand the heat, he could too. Prince nodded. “Enough for three.” “Wait guys!” Bolt stepped between them. “Sasha said not to.” Maverick rolled his eyes. “If you don’t want one, don’t take one.” Bolt’s eyes dropped to his feet. He shuffled uncomfortably, biting the inside of his lips. “I don’t think we should.” “Bolt, you need to learn to think for yourself,” Prince said. “Sasha can’t babysit us forever.” It was strange hearing Prince use those words without spite. However sick he was of them, he couldn’t deny their truth. The era of blindly following Sasha was fast approaching its end, and these knives would finally end it. “I am thinking for myself,” Bolt insisted. “It’s not a good idea.” “To protect ourselves?” Prince frowned. “To kill.” “Bolt, if it was between me and a fucking Hawk, you can be damn sure I’m the one getting out alive. Hawks don’t deserve any better.”

Bolt clutched his bandaged arm, unconvinced. “Look Bolt, I’m buying three. If you want one, it’s yours, otherwise I’ll just take two.” Bolt looked around, unsure of what to do. Maverick felt a smile creep onto his face as well. Their final drop was next week and he would be damned if he ran it like all the others. About time.

JYNX Jynx sat near a window with the breeze in her face. She swung her head back and swished the alcohol to the back of her throat. Before the taste hit, she swallowed. It was a good warm feeling, unlike the scorching heat of her home. “I guess Sasha’s pups are finally leaving the litter.” Her voice softened. She glanced at Prince, still playing with his knife. “I hope they don’t think they can sleep here.” Prince chuckled. “This place is an oven. Not even dogs would sleep here.” He held his knife as if scared to break it. The twisting silver handle shimmered in the moonlight, highlighting the engravings carved into it. “I’m the daughter of The Dragon, isn’t it fitting that I prefer the heat? Still better than sleeping in a tent like you. “What’s better than sleeping under the stars?” Prince grinned. Jynx returned his smile. “When this storm everyone is talking about hits, you’ll understand.” “I’ve slept through storms just fine. We just set up our umbrella roof. It’s really pretty, you can see the rain through the umbrellas but because they’re all colored, it makes the rain look colored as well. “If you say so.” Jynx threw the plastic bottle of moonshine at Prince. It was old, its plastic wrinkled beyond repair. Inside was a clear liquid thick enough to be syrup, revolting in both taste and smell. “Why didn’t you leave with your friends?” Prince caught the bottle. It only took a small sip for his mouth to twist in disgust. “Ugh.” He complained, wiping his mouth. “I need Sasha to cool down before I go.” “Look at you, already acting like a married couple.” “Shut up.” Prince threw his head back, mimicking Jynx, as he drained a quarter of the plastic bottle. His mouth twisted once again, but this time, he bore through it without covering his mouth. “What did you say your friends’ names were again?”

“The short one is Bolt and the tall one is Maverick.” “Must Sasha give you all such strange names?” “They’re fitting.” “Did she give you yours because you’re so entitled?” Prince gave Jynx a serious look. “It’s because I’ll one day rule this city.” Laughter erupted from Jynx’s mouth. “Good luck, I doubt my father would let you.” “First thing I’m going to do is knock out all those damned cameras.” “Be my guest.” The camera towers all looked misplaced. They were worth more than most could afford. They watched the city day and night. A calm silence fell between them. Jynx went back to gazing out the window. The moon shone as bright as the sun and every star twinkled as if winking. The sky didn’t look this beautiful in movies. “To give him some credit, this place is much better than it used to be. And my father isn’t as harsh as he was back then,” Jynx said. Life was full of these little ironies; her father had softened up just in time for the brunt of the city’s hate. “What?” Prince looked at Jynx like she was crazy. “My father. There used to be guns and gangs everywhere. It was completely chaos.” “Thank God someone came and killed them all, took all the guns, and then held us all at gunpoint. Much better,” Prince slurred. “I never said he was perfect.” “You should know that better than anyone.” Prince placed a single finger onto his thigh, nodding towards her. Jynx looked down at her own thigh, the black mark of her branding more noticeable than ever. She kept her mouth shut, nothing she could say would ever stifle Prince’s hatred toward her father. “But if I had to choose between the way it was and the way it is, I’d pick the way it is.” “The way it is, I can’t even fart without The Dragon hearing about it.”

“He doesn’t care about that, he only cares about his three rules.” “So why are Hawks allowed to hunt us down then? Doesn’t that count as violence?” “It’s not a perfect system and they’re just kids.” “Tell that to Mice.” Prince rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal pale ridges all along his arm. “Tell that to the kids they carve up.” With a grimace, he swung his head back and drank the rest of the liquor. Prince threw aside the empty plastic bottle before continuing to talk. “Either way, as long as he has his comfy seat at the top, it doesn’t matter who’s at the bottom holding his weight up. We’re just pawns to him.” “Yet we’re still better off with him at the top.” “Sorry but his scraps aren’t good enough for me. Perhaps if I was a dog, I’d come when he whistles and beg when I’m hungry. But I’m human. I won’t live underneath him.” “Humans were always meant to live underneath each other,” Jynx said. “It’s the natural order of things, that’s why history is ruled by kings.” “Yeah? So where are those kings now?” “We’re still ruled by kings, we just call them something different.” “Fuck, I’m too drunk this.” Prince slapped his hands on his face and rubbed his eyes. “Jynx, if you want to be a dog, do it. But I was born human and I intend to act like it.” Jynx rolled her eyes. “You sound like Sasha.” “That’s because she understands what it means to be human.” Jynx paused for a while, thinking of a response. When she opened her mouth, her words were slow, each syllable carefully enunciated. “What it means to be human is to be ruled. The king will always try to remain the king, while the ruled will always try to become the king. All men wish to rule. My father understood that.” At least he used to. “Fine Jynx, then here’s a promise. I’ll show you what it means to live as a human.”

“I didn’t realize I was talking to Sasha.” Jynx looked away, trying not to laugh at the drunken Prince. “Anyway, it’s getting late and I have a meeting with my father soon.” “Alright, alright, I’ll leave.” Jynx watched him stumble out the door. He was so young and in spite of all he had been through, still so innocent. “Goodbye Prince.”

LAO Of all the casinos he owned, Hawk’s Lair was his favorite. It stood in the center of the city’s plaza like a monument. Soft magenta carpeted its floors and immediately upon entering, the stench of the city disappeared into a cool lavender fragrance. It was like walking into another world. Lao stood at the top of the twisting staircase that led to his office. There was no second floor, only a large platform with his office at the end of it. It let him overlook the casino and watch the chandeliers split the sunlight into a million shooting stars. But he didn’t have the luxury to appreciate that now. His daughter stood behind him, waiting for his meeting with Salib to finish. “We lost a man,” Salib read from his report. His voice was a crude reminder that the meeting was still going on. “He was a dealer at Hawk’s Lair, he fell ill fighting the fire and passed away this morning. We’ve already sent the rest of his pay to his family. Shall we give them anything more?” “No.” Lao’s answer was immediate. “How was our firefighting?” Salib scratched the paper with his pen. “Not good. The drought has turned houses into kindle. Right now, all we can do is take buckets to the river.” “How archaic.” “We don’t have the money to do anything else.” Lao frowned and stood silent. It always came back to money. Times like these reminded him how fragile their city was. “And how goes the murder investigation.” A silence filled the air. Salib looked away. “No progress,” he finally said. “We have a camera on every single street and alley, how can there be no progress?” “We don’t have the budget to leave on all the cameras. You were the one that cut our power budget.” Lao grimaced, he didn’t need to be reminded of that. “Have you at least discovered something new?”

“All we know is that the victims were Hawks.” “Useless.” Salib stared at his feet. “Sorry.” “I don’t want apologies; I want—” Lao paused to think for a bit. “What are people calling him?” Salib gulped. “The Slasher.” “Tsk. He sounds as ridiculous as the boogeyman.” “We’ll find him. We just need time.” “Fine. But keep in mind, our number one priority is still the gun Owen had. Figure out how he managed to get a gun into my city. If I was to guess, the same people are responsible for smuggling heroin through my walls.” Salib nodded as he retreated from Lao. “Is there anything else?” “No. You can go,” Lao said, the edges of his lips turning to a chuckle. “I want some quality time with my daughter.” Lao raised his hand, getting the attention of the two guards. With a slight nod, they stepped aside to let Jynx through. “What’s your status?” he asked her. “All drops are going smoothly.” “And Sasha?” Jynx’s mouth twitched. It was all it took to betray her annoyance. “She failed her last drop.” Her words were steady and her face blank. “The little one, Bolt, couldn’t complete his leg of the drop again.” “That’s the one responsible for the fire, right?” “Well, the fire was made to flush him out. With one more success, they complete their contract.” Lao’s lips stretched into a small grin. “The first Mice ever.”

“Should we do something about it?” Lao shook his head. “Rule number two.” Another twitch of her mouth. “If they complete the contract and earn the final reward, they’ll have enough saved up to leave the city. I don’t suppose I need to remind you what happens when the world learns of Mice and Hawks.” “Yes, everything we’ve worked towards will be ruined.” “The second they win, the city is doomed. We do everything it takes to keep that from happening. Whatever it takes.” Lao chuckled to himself. Of course the answer was obvious, it had always been in front of him. What is one life compared to an entire city? Jynx must’ve sensed his hesitance. “It’s one life versus two hundred thousand. She’s just a Mouse.” But she wasn’t just a Mouse and both of them knew it. “Not just a Mouse,” Lao said. The irony was so stark, he had to laugh. “She’s human.”

MAVERICK Maverick had never been a heavy sleeper. Even after drops, when his eyes drooped and limbs failed him, his eyes still opened at the slightest noise. But any excuse to awake from his nightmares was a blessing. This time, it was the sound of Prince’s staggered footsteps. Maverick peeked out his tent to see Prince’s shadow swaying in front of Sasha’s tent. He crawled into the moonlight. “At least I don’t watch her when she sleeps,” Maverick said in a hushed voice. Prince jumped. He twisted his head to find Maverick. “Oh, it’s you. What was that?” Maverick smiled. “You call me a creep, but at least I don’t watch girls while they sleep. What are you doing?” Prince smiled back. “I was just wondering what it’d take to convince her that she snores.” Sure enough, Maverick could hear the gentle sound of snoring from Sasha’s tent. If he could hear it from his tent on the opposite side of the circle, it must’ve been pretty loud. “I don’t think we can ever convince her of that.” “What a horrible sound. But still, I like it,” Prince said, stumbling over his words. Maverick nodded. “It’d be hard to sleep without it.” “We’re finally this close to finishing our contract. Three years of being hunted, cut, and beat. And now, none of it will matter if we fail the next one. What the fuck.” Maverick stared at Prince. “That’s why we can’t fail. No matter what. It’s why we bought the knives.” Prince shook his head, his balance swaying. “That’s not why.” Maverick scrunched his brow. “I bought the knives to protect Sasha. So we can protect her.” The words came loud and clear. For a second, it seemed that Prince was faking his own drunkenness. But just as fast as he had sobered, he was drunk again. “Promise me you will,” he slurred. “Okay, Prince.”

“I’m serious, no matter who or what, we’ll protect her.” “I was going to anyways.” “She’s already been hurt enough.” Maverick nodded, “Hawk’s Lair was –” “I’m not talking about Hawk’s Lair.” The statement shut Maverick up. “Prince.” They had agreed to forget about it, but both knew they couldn’t. “Something like that, we can’t—” “I don’t care. It almost destroyed her.” Maverick remembered the twisting trail of blood that ran down Sasha’s thigh. It was more horrible than the cuts and bruises all over her body. The blood shone so radiantly that it seemed to be the only color on her. And with this blood came a new girl, one who was shy and timid, who shrank away from conflict and would cry endlessly into the night. Maverick opened his mouth against his better judgment. “Prince, if you found the Hawks that did that to her, what would you do to them?” Prince stumbled backwards and fell onto the ground in a sitting position. “I’d kill them of course. I’d break their necks. I’d let them know exactly why they were dying. They would never hurt her again.” His words were poison. “Talk like that and I’ll think you’re The Slasher.” “Maybe I am.” Maverick rolled his eyes. “You’re not crazy enough to be The Slasher.” Prince fell silent. He stared into the shadows of Sasha’s tent. When he at last spoke, his words came in a low whisper. “You think that The Slasher’s trying to protect someone?” Prince’s honesty caught Maverick by surprise. He found himself scrambling for an answer. “I think you shouldn’t try to understand the crazy,” he said. Prince took a moment to mull over Maverick’s words. “Fair.” With that, he headed toward his tent. “G’night Mav.” “Goodnight Prince.” But Maverick stayed up.

He brought out his knife from underneath the blankets and held it to the moonlight. Strange etchings had been carved into the blade. Though it was old and rusted, it could still cut stone. Unlike Prince’s knife, his was only sharp on one end, but it was jagged and had a small hilt. I wonder if he really is trying to protect someone.

SASHA She reached into her pocket to make sure Prince’s money was still there. Under The Dragon’s reign, there were no pickpockets, but whoever made girl’s shorts had decided that their pockets didn’t need to work. Half the time, the slightest jump would cause everything to spill out. It should be around here. Maverick had told her where Prince gambled, a shanty bar called The Riverside Tavern. Walking up to it, she could see that it lived up to its reputation. The red paint on the wood was mostly gone. The name itself was painted in what used to be yellow. Now it held the dull orange color of rust. Most of the windows were either boarded up or too dusty to see through. “What a dump.” Sasha shook her head and continued toward it. The building looked old, perhaps old enough to be one of the first buildings of this city. A monument of the past turned into a place of drunken vice. Fitting. Walking in was equally revolting. The only thing in the bar worth having was the bar itself. Along the sides of the bar were tables and chairs. The middle was an open space of scattered bar tables topped with gambling games. “Hey,” Sasha said as she approached the bar. The bartender adjusted his spectacles. “Would you like a drink?” “No, I want a favor. A boy name Prince comes in here a lot to gamble, I want you to stop him when he does.” Sasha pulled out the money Prince had given her and dropped it onto the bar. “Alright?” The bartender made no move to collect the money, instead he started making a drink. “Unfortunately, just as we don’t have age minimums on our drinks, neither do we on our services.” “Prince gambles more money than he has and the last time he lost, he almost got himself killed. I’m just trying to protect him.” The bartender stopped making the drink. “Is it your money?”

“Why does it matter?” “Stealing isn’t allowed in this city. Nor is bribery.” “This money’s going to get Prince killed one day.” “Are you the boy’s guardian?” He poured the drink out into a sink and rubbed the glass down with cloth. Sasha looked away. “Not technically.” “I won’t accept the money.” “Tsk!” Sasha rolled her eyes and turned. “Either way, do whatever you want with it.” The bartender’s voice stopped her. “If you leave the money here, I’ll have it returned to its original owner.” She looked back to see the money still exactly as she had left it. There wasn’t a single dollar out of place. She frowned and grabbed the dollars, stuffing it into her pocket. Sasha walked out of the bar into the glaring sunlight, unsure of how she would get rid of the money. There were stores aplenty, but spending the money to buy gifts for everyone would defeat the purpose of her having come here in the first place. Instead, she wandered aimlessly, letting her mind drift to the same questions that had always haunted her. Why do Mice even exist? However proud she was to be a Mouse, she found it hard to believe that delivering life-saving medicine was a task fit for children. After all, the success rate of Mice was abysmally low. Surely they should’ve found something better. Project Persist was the company that originally brought medicine into the slums. The history books claimed that Project Persist had brought in their own people to deliver the medicine, but the slums proved too difficult to traverse. In the books, that’s all they said about Project Persist. There should be more. But there never was. Sasha looked up to see the Riverside Tavern in front of her. She had walked in a large circle. With a smile, she closed her eyes and shook her head relieving herself of such thoughts. It was a beautiful morning and she had the whole day free.

Suddenly, a body slammed into her from behind. The world spun. When it finally stopped, she was on the ground covered in dirt. To her left laid another girl groaning. Sasha pressed a hand against her own aching head. It was wet. “What the hell?” The other girl remained still. Both her knees shone bright red through the dirt clinging to them. A small fist was curled up at her sides with a bag of pills. A Mouse! Sasha pushed herself up just in time to see her pursuing Hawk.

JAKE The alleys twisted and curved endlessly. Each alley only led to another. Every turn brought with it its own distinct smell, the unique combination of garbage that nearby tenants had thrown out their windows. Jake chased his prey, his bare feet bouncing off the cool dirt. Each breath was harder than the last. All that kept him going was the swishing blonde ponytail in front of him. “Fuck you!” He breathlessly screamed. The rubble on the ground ripped through the soles of his feet. Debris jabbed his toes with every step. But as long as she wasn’t slowing down, he couldn’t either. The Mouse was headed to the main street, probably to lose him there. At the rate things were going, she would. Jake turned the corner. All that was left was a straight shot out of the alley. It was over. He couldn’t keep up. He watched her sprint out of the alley’s shadows. Then a miracle. She collided with someone and fumbled to the ground. His prey rolled through the dirt, sliding to a stop with bloody knees. I hope you broke those knees. “Thank you,” Jake said looking up to the sky. His run slowed to walk. Walking out of the shadows was like entering a new world. Jake licked his lips. His nose crinkled at the foul musk of sweaty bodies. He preferred the sour smell of trash. Stepping toward the Mouse, he stared at the bag of pills strewn across the street. They may as well have been a bag of gold. Slowly, his eyes slid toward the Mouse, her thin figure unconscious in the street. My lucky day. “Stop.” Jake halted and turned to see two glaring red eyes. It was the girl the Mouse had ran into. Her hand clutched her head to quell blood. “Why?” He ignored her order. Injured or not, she was still in his way. She would find no sympathy from him.

“You’re a Hawk aren’t you?” “What’s it to you?” “Don’t come any closer.” Her voice reminded Jake of a rabid dog’s growl. Jake shook his head. Fortune had delivered this girl to him. There was no way he was going to give her away so easily. He reached into his back pocket and flicked open a switchblade. “Careful girl, we Hawks are known for our tempers.” To his surprise, she reached into her shorts for a knife of her own, its tip charred black. She stepped over the unconscious blonde Mouse, her knife angled toward him. The pale scar slicing her eye in half crunched up with her face. It took only a single look at her to know how serious she was. “And we Mice are known to bite.” Another Mouse. Jake slowed his breaths. In a battle between Hawks and Mice, the winner was obvious. “You don’t have to do this, Mouse.” Plus, I have an advantage. I bet you’ve never fought a lefty before. He tossed the knife to his left hand.

SASHA Sasha felt like a hypocrite wielding the knife she had taken from Bolt. But what choice did she have? She saw the way the Hawk had looked at the unconscious Mouse. She had seen that look before; she had nightmares about that look. Around them, pedestrians cleared a way. As usual, they didn’t even bat an eye. It was as if they were ghosts. It was times like this that Sasha missed the days where pedestrians would at least acknowledge her. But those days went away with the Lions. “You don’t have to do this Mouse.” The Hawk’s knees bent and his knife danced in front of him. It looked like he at least knew a little about knife play. “You must not know me very well.” Sasha’s heart thumped against her chest and her muscles tingled with anticipation. She watched a bead of sweat drip down the Hawk’s chin. His tongue flicked in and out trying to wet his lips. His breaths were deep. He’s tired. A throbbing pain reminded her of her own handicaps. Blood from her forehead trickled into her left eye, forcing it shut. A string of scarlet dripped out her mouth. Her feet shifted as she fought to maintain her posture. The world hadn’t stopped spinning. “You think you can stop me?” The Hawk’s grin cut across his face. “Just who the hell do you think I am?” It was just a slight twitch of his leg, but Sasha read his movements. The Hawk lunged forward wildly slashing into the air. Sasha leapt backwards and slid to a stop. If the Hawk chose to grab the pills and run, she wouldn’t be able to stop him. But she was more worried about the girl than the pills. The Hawk seemed to read her mind. He glanced at the plastic bag on the ground before returning his gaze to Sasha. Stepping over the blonde Mouse, he sprang forward, the silver of his knife disappearing in a whirling blur. Sasha ducked and dodged, making sure to keep her distance. The Hawk was much larger than her and almost as nimble. Worse, he was left-handed.

He stuck onto her tirelessly. With every step back she took, he responded with two steps forward. The difference in their strength was obvious. Sasha ducked a horizontal slash, feeling the blade whisk away the tip of her hair. It was all she could do just to avoid his knife. Another slash from the right. Sasha’s ankles burned, unused to always dodging to the left. Shit! Her legs tangled together. Luckily, she fell just out of the Hawk’s reach. A twentydollar bill floated down beside her. She looked up to see the Hawk equally as stunned. Nobody moved as they both watched the bill land on the dirt. In a single moment, they lunged toward the bill. Even though Sasha was closer, the Hawk got to it first. Sasha stabbed her blade toward his hand. The Hawk’s hand shot back as he twisted his body with a retaliatory strike. Sasha leaned back just far enough to avoid the knife and in the same movement flung dirt into the Hawk’s face. “Fuck!” The Hawk’s arms came up and his head recoiled backwards. Sasha thrust her knife forward, but at the last moment, turned her stab into a wild punch. She heard the satisfying crunch of her fist against the Hawk’s nose. Blood exploded from his face like fireworks. The Hawk’s head lunged backwards and hit the ground behind him. “God damn it!” His voice sounded nasally. Blood poured out of his nose in a rich gush of crimson. Sasha swiped the money off the ground and put it back in her pocket. “I could’ve killed you there.” “Your mistake.” The Hawk shook with anger, his knuckles white from clutching his knife so hard. He pushed himself up. Sasha’s head pounded to the rhythm of her ragged breaths. She wiped the blood from her eye only to have more trickle through. For the first time, she noticed that the Mouse had disappeared along with the drugs. “Where is she?” Sasha demanded. “What the fuck are you asking me for?”

“Then who took her?” “The fucking Slasher!” He said. “Are you an idiot? She took off.” How did I miss that? Sasha swept her eyes around the circle of people that had gathered around to watch. The blond Mouse had disappeared. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you, Mouse.” The Hawk raised his knife and pointed it at her. Sasha returned his stare in kind. With a scornful grunt, the Hawk stepped backward, abandoning his posture. He grabbed his left hand to plug up a gash. Sasha hadn’t even realized he was wounded. It must’ve been when he had made a grab for Prince’s money. Her knife had found its mark. The Hawk put his knife away. “Remember me Mouse, because I’ll remember you.” He took off into the crowd and disappeared.

LAO “I see you’re not a morning person.” Lao’s shoes clicked on the ground. John bit against the knotted rag in his mouth. His body shook as he tried to inch away from the Dragon. As all the visitors of this room, his hands were cuffed behind him and his feet were chained to the floor. Lao circled him, tugging on the noose around his neck. “Do you know why you are here?” John screamed against the rag in vowels. “Let me answer that question for you, because the answer isn’t actually all that exciting. You broke one of my rules.” Lao sighed, placing both his hands on his hip. “And I don’t really like you. In the short time since I’ve made your acquaintance, you have not only bullied children, but you’ve been bullied by children!” Lao clutched his sides laughing. It didn’t seem like John found it as funny as Lao. “Excuse me John, I thought you would appreciate some humor.” Lao grabbed the rag around John’s mouth and yanked it out. “Sorry, but I’m a little hard of hearing, I must be getting old. Could you repeat that?” “I’m sorry. Please—” John coughed, his entire body shaking with its force. “—let me go.” Lao shook his head. “Ugh, the same words that everyone says. If I knew this would be the quality of our conversation, I would’ve left the rag in your mouth.” “I’m sorry I broke your rule. It won’t happen again Mr. Dragon.” “First off, just Dragon, no mister. Secondly, you don’t even know what you did yet. How can you be sorry? No, I want you to guess which of my rules you broke. Here’s a hint, I only have three.” John returned a blank look. “Um… the first one?” “Do you know which rule that is?” “Is that the one about—”

“It’s the one about violence. All violence belongs to me.” Lao pinched his own chin in a theatrical manner. “Good guess, but not quite right. You almost broke that one, but then you got stabbed and beaten by a fifteen-year-old boy. No, you broke my second rule.” It still didn’t seem like John was getting it. “You cheated,” Lao clarified. “During your chess game with Prince.” John’s mouth gaped open in disbelief. “That’s why I’m here?” “To be frank, no. It’s your humanity that brings us here.” “What?” “You are violent, arrogant, selfish, and sadistic. That’s why you’re here.” “But that’s not part of your rules.” “Which is why I’m so glad you cheated.” Lao chuckled and produced a silver flask from inside his jacket. He unscrewed the lid and sniffed its rancid odor. No matter how many times he performed this ritual, the smell always made him retch. Lao wagged a finger in front of John. “But this wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t give you a chance to save yourself. So, here’s your chance, tell me how Owen snuck a gun into my city.” “I don’t know, ask him,” John stammered. “Unfortunately, that’s the answer he gave me... only, he told me to ask you. Oh John, what pitiful creatures we are.” Lao held his flask up over John’s head and poured out its contents. John squirmed as if he could dodge the liquid if only he tried hard enough. He spit out the bit that got in his mouth. His face flushed red as he gagged on the taste. “Stop!” He shouted in between dry heaves. Lao stopped. He flung his head back and drank the rest. As soon as the liquid entered his mouth, his body panicked. His heart jumped into an erratic dance and his stomach did flips. With a grunt, Lao gulped down the poison. It took a while for Lao to put himself back together. He clenched his eyes shut and prayed that he wouldn’t vomit. At last, the nausea passed. “Would you like to know why I drink this?” he said in a pant.

“You’re fucking crazy!” John screamed. “Not crazy, disgusting,” Lao said. It was too hard to hold in. He lunged sideways and vomited a clear stream of what smelled like kerosene. “What the fuck?” John tugged against the noose around his neck trying to inch away. “Excuse me.” Lao dabbed his mouth with his tie. “I drink this is to remind myself of how disgusting I am, how disgusting what I’m doing is. You see, I believe that what I’m doing is a sin. This is my punishment.” Lao’s eyes stung. His stomach felt like a knife had pierced it. He paced around John with unstable steps. “But I’m only human and this is the best I can do. I’m violent, arrogant, selfish, and sadistic. What else can you expect? At least I have the good sense to punish myself.” “Please, I’ll do anything you want!” John begged. “Whatever you want, it’s yours!” “You already know what I want. How did Owen get the gun?” John’s eyes grew large. “It was given to us.” “Was it by someone named The Boss?” “How’d you know?” John stammered. “Owen already told me this much. Now go on, what did he look like?” John slowly shook his head. “I never saw the man. I only heard the name because the package came with a letter from him. We just got a package outside our door one day, that’s all. This isn’t my fault.” “Then I suppose you’re even less help than Owen.” With a swift kid, Lao knocked John over. The noose tightened around his John’s neck. The chains on the ground clanked as he twisted and turned. Lao paid him no attention. Taking his time, he pulled out a box of cigarettes.

PRINCE The black river sparkled with glints of moonlight. Each ripple a small flash of silver, like the glisten of a diamond. It was easy to get lost in such a sight. Prince sat in his usual spot, beads of sweat dripping down his chin. He hated working out, but it was necessary. Nobody as weak as him could protect someone. Since the incident at Hawk’s Lair, he hadn’t missed a single day. If anything like that ever happened again, he would be ready. “Hey Prince.” He knew the voice. “Sasha.” “You smell awful. What are you doing at this hour?” Prince shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.” Sasha returned his answer with a smile. “Nobody can. Bolt and Flower are wide awake and Mav’s off doing his own thing again.” “Our final drop is tomorrow. I’d be surprised if anyone could sleep,” said Prince. Sasha took a seat beside him and looked toward the river. “This is so pretty!” Prince glanced at her. Her red eyes widened as if she could see the entire world, if only she opened them wide enough. The silver of the moon glimmered through her red making her eyes look like rubies. It was easy to get lost in such a sight. “Why didn’t you tell me the river looked this pretty at night? I would’ve been here every night.” She wielded no authority in her voice. Right now, they were equal. For the first time in a while, Prince found himself at a loss for words. He had only seen her so relaxed a handful of times before. It was hard to believe that this was the same proud girl that headed their family. “I think a fish just jumped out the water!” Sasha laughed. She hugged her knees and pointed a finger at the river. “Did you see that?”

Prince brought his hand up to his chest, surprised to feel the rapid thumping of his own heart. He could hear the blood pounding through his head. Though he tried, he couldn’t contain his laughter. “Did I say something funny?” “I never thought you were such a girl.” Sasha grinned back. “Asshole.” They sat there a while, enjoying the breeze. It was Sasha who broke the silence. “We’ve been getting in a lot of fights recently.” If it was anyone else, Prince would’ve given a sharp retort. Instead all that came out his mouth was an apology. “Sorry. It’s my fault.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “You’re letting me off too easy.” “On the bright side, we’re almost done.” Sasha nodded in agreement. “Seriously, can you believe it?” “I can’t even imagine.” Prince chuckled. “I bet we’ll be bored within a week.” “No way, I have big plans for us.” “Oh yeah? Like what?” Sasha gave him an innocent grin. “We’re going to finish this last drop, escape this city, and see Paris!” Prince snorted. “Why Paris?” “So I can show you guys the stars.” Prince pointed toward the sky. “They’re right there.” “There are more stars than the ones in the sky.” Prince stared into Sasha’s eyes. “Do you know what a star is?” Sasha nudged Prince over. “Idiot, I’ll show you one day, then you’ll see.” She stuck her tongue out.

Prince’s brow raised. “What are we, ten? And you come up with a new plan every week. Get back to me when you actually have something.” Sasha stared back and for what seemed like the longest second, she stayed silent. “Sorry Prince, but for now, this is all I can give you,” She said, her voice almost a whisper. The sincerity caught Prince by surprise. He looked away, his face already hot. “I couldn’t…” Prince stopped talking, realizing that he was speaking too softly even for himself to hear. Making sure to project, he said, “I couldn’t ask for more.” The silence stretched forever. Prince peeked at Sasha, and then, to his surprise, she started laughing. “Calm down Prince, you didn’t have to yell at me.” “What?” Prince clamped his mouth shut, thinking back to how loud he had been. Shit. But Sasha’s laughter was music. It was contagious, and pretty soon, Prince joined her. He glanced over to see her head tilted toward the full moon, just like his. We must look mad, laughing at the moon. The thought made him laugh even harder. “Anyway,” Sasha turned away from the moon to once again watch the silver ripples of the river. “I tried returning your money but the bartender wouldn’t let me. Can you believe it?” Sasha took a deep breath and dropped a handful of crumpled bills beside Prince. “You win. How you spend your money is none of my business. Sorry about, you know…” “Wow, an apology from Sasha?” Prince’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “And such a well thought out one too.” “Shut up.” Sasha’s face was so red, it was noticeable even in the dark. “Thanks Sasha.” Sasha grinned back in the stupid way she always did. “I’m serious about this one. Even if we fail tomorrow, even if it kills me, I’ll take us to Paris.” In unison, they returned their gaze back to the moon.

VLAD Vlad relished the dead quiet of the night, its stillness disturbed only by the grass snapping underneath his feet. He held his jagged blade in one hand. Though it was only a knife, he walked as if it was an anchor. His arm dangled behind him and dragged down his entire body in a lopsided gait. The moon stood high in the cloudless sky. It illuminated the flat landscape, casting shadows from the tents scattered around the riverbank. Vlad reached his hands up as if he could grasp its luminescence. How would I make you scream? “You know this is all your fault,” he said, shifting his gaze to the stars, talking to the heavens above him. “You said that you loved us all. You promised us a just world. How do you lie so well?” And if you can be cruel, why can’t I? Vlad walked through rows of tents with soft steps. Only now did he notice his drool, falling in thick globs from his mouth. He wiped it up, surprised to feel his lips curved into an uneven smile. “Don’t worry,” he told nobody. “Because however cruel you are, I promise you, I can be crueler.” Vlad approached Jericho’s tent and let out a squeal. He peeled back the tent to find Jericho asleep. Vlad moaned and dragged his fingers across his face. “I’m glad you raped her,” he whispered to Jericho, laughing through his words. “Because I loved her, and you broke her so completely. But you see, without a victim, there’s just no justice. Without her pain, this would all be so hollow.” He crawled into the tent, his knife raised. It was strange seeing Jericho so peaceful, Vlad had watched him for weeks and never once was Jericho this calm. Well, at least he wouldn’t die that way. Vlad thrust his blade into Jericho’s leg. The knife cut to the bone. Jericho jerked up, but Vlad held him down, his hand latched onto Jericho’s mouth. He shoved his blade deeper into Jericho’s leg, twisting and turning it to produce the squelching noise he so loved. Hawks aren’t the only ones who scar.

Vlad maneuvered his knife, etching his art into Jericho’s femur. Just seeing Jericho’s quivering eyes would’ve been good enough, but now he felt Jericho’s spit between his fingers. He felt the vibrations against his palm of the screams that would never escape. If Jericho could scream— Oh wait… Vlad guffawed, sending spit raining down on his victim. “You can scream,” he laughed. Vlad wiggled the knife out from Jericho’s leg and stabbed it into his gut. This time, no bone stopped the knife. Only now, did the metallic smell of blood fill the air, its fragrance accentuated with a hint of sourness. It was intoxicating. His nails dug into Jericho’s cheeks. However Vlad tried, he couldn’t stop his laughter. It felt like he was under some spell, some wonderfully powerful spell. “Scream! Scream for me!” Vlad released Jericho’s mouth to unleash the screams he had been holding in. Vlad dug his knife further into Jericho before scooping it out, flinging blood onto the tent walls. With another lunge, Vlad returned the knife into Jericho’s gut, stabbing him over and over again. With each stab, he flung more blood as if drawing some horrific mural. “Can you hear his screams, God?” Vlad howled, feverishly painting the tent walls. Jericho convulsed with every stroke. His screams died into a gurgle and then nothing. “Can you hear it even when you’re so high up on your fucking throne?” Sweat dripped down Vlad’s face. His shoulders rose and fell with his panting breath. Only now did he realize that Jericho had died. Vlad shook his head in disappointment. Holding Jericho’s face steady with his nails, he slammed the knife into Jericho’s eye, the finishing touch on his masterpiece. It always astounded Vlad how fast a person could become an object. And then there was silence. The night remained completely unchanged. The river still flowed, the moon still shone; nothing at all had changed. Vlad looked down at his work. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. His skin tingled. Jericho’s scent tickled his nose. I had been too loud. “Jericho?” The high-pitched voice came directly behind him.

Vlad turned and peeked through the sliver of light streaming through the tent flap. It was a small girl, her figure hidden by shadows. There was a crowd behind her. They stood away from the tent as if it housed some sort of monster. Vlad plucked his blade out of Jericho’s eye. “Who’s in there?” The girl was on the verge of sobbing, her voice like the squeak of a mouse. “Please, brother, say something.” I need a mask. Vlad didn’t bother looking around, he already knew where his mask was. He plunged his face into Jericho’s gut, engulfing himself in the blood. He rubbed it all over him, filling his nose and ears with its warmth. Once again, as if commanded by spell, he started laughing. Bubbles of blood spluttered from his mouth. With a swift turn, Vlad was out the tent. Strings of blood oozed off his lips, dripping down his chin like slobber. The crowd huddled around each other. They were sheep eyeing a wolf. The girl gasped, her eyes darting between Vlad’s face and his knife. “Who are—” Vlad opened his mouth to respond, instead, a shrill laugh escaped him. He spluttered blood over the girl. It pained him to laugh so hard. He clutched his stomach, heaving the laughter out of him. By the time he had managed to calm himself down, the crowd had thinned. If he had awoken anyone else, they were smart enough to stay inside. All that remained was the stragglers inching away from him and the little girl. She opened her mouth to talk, but no words came out. Vlad smiled, never having seen anyone actually frozen with fear before. It was rather cute. He walked up to her and pinched her chin, peering into her doe-eyed stare. “Please don’t kill me,” the girl cried. Tears crawled down her cheeks. “Do you know who I am?” Vlad brushed her cheek with his knuckles, painting it with her brother’s blood. Her words came out in short stutters. “The Slasher.” Vlad took a deep breath. “That’s right,” he whispered into her ear. He gave her a bloody kiss on her forehead and walked away. The remnants of the crowd parted for him, none dared make eye contact.

Behind him, the girl wailed into the night. They started out as short staccato notes that crescendoed into a beautiful finale, a perfect conclusion to his symphony of screams. He placed a hand over his thumping heart with a smile so wide it hurt. Vlad looked toward the heavens, already wanting more. “If you could scream, how would I make you scream, God?”

LISSANDRA “Mom!” Lissandra awoke in the usual manner. “Mom! I’m hungry!” Normally this wouldn’t have bothered her, but her body felt like dead weight. The drop had been harder than she anticipated and now she was paying the price. If it wasn’t for that red-eyed girl, she might not have even made it back. “Quiet,” she muttered at her little brother and snuggled deeper into her pillow. “Mom!” her little brother wailed. With a sigh, Lissandra pushed herself up. Her joints audibly popped into place. She leaned over to the left and gave her little brother a small kiss. “Okay Leon, I’ll make you some food.” She elbowed her older brother on the right, “Gunther, help me make breakfast.” Gunther stopped snoring and rolled over. With his back turned to her he asked, “With what food?” Before she could respond, he was asleep again, his snore deeper than before. “Damn it.” Lissandra took care to whisper. Leon was too quick to pick up on new words. She crawled out of bed with a groan. “Liss, where’s mom?” Leon asked. “Leon, shh, I’ll make you something. Just go back to bed and when you wake up, I’ll have your favorite soup all ready for you.” Lissandra’s voice was soft and high as if talking to a baby. Leon frowned, dissatisfied with her answer. “But where’s Mom? Why isn’t she here?” That’s a good question, Lissandra wanted to say, but one look at Leon’s wet eyes stopped her. He was too young for the truth. Lissandra plastered a smile onto her face. She was a poor replacement for their mother.

“Mom’s a little sick right now,” she said. “But don’t worry, she’ll get better real soon. Until then, just let your big sis take care of you. Now back to bed with you.” Leon, finally satisfied, retreated under the rough covers of their bed. “Okay, Liss.” Lissandra smiled as she watched him fall back asleep. When his gentle breathing became slow and deep, she left into the living room. On the sofa was her mother with bottles of alcohol spilled beside her. The entire room reeked of its smell. “Mom, time to go to your bed.” Lissandra nudged her. Her mother shifted slightly as she burrowed deeper into the cushions. “Charles, is that you?” Lissandra sighed. “No mom. Look, let’s get you to bed.” Her mother drunkenly waved her hand, trying to shoo Lissandra away. “Let me sleep a little more. I was just with daddy.” “Mom, Leon’s going to wake up pretty soon. You don’t want him to see you like this, do you?” “Liss, don’t bother me,” her mom said in a lazy voice. “Just go away like a good girl.” Lissandra sighed and started collecting the empty bottles strewn around her mother. Some were still heavy with alcohol, but she threw them away all the same. She opened up their cupboard to find nothing but dust and cobwebs. “Mom, did you go get groceries like I asked?” Or did you just buy more booze. Her mother had always liked alcohol, but never like this. Ever since her father had died fighting a fire for The Dragon, her mother had developed an obsession. It had quickly drained them of all their savings. That’s when Lissandra decided to become a Mouse. Lissandra peeked up to make sure her mother was passed out. She reached her hand into the back of the cupboard where she had smashed a small hole. She felt around the crevice to retrieve some neatly folded dollar bills. Carefully counting the bills with her fingers, she snatched a few dollars before closing the cupboard. “Alright Mom, I’m going to buy some food. Make sure you clean yourself up.”

“For God’s sake, Lissandra, shut up!” For a while, Lissandra couldn’t move. Her mouth hung open as she stared stupidly at her sleeping mother. At last, she took a step toward the door and left. “Sorry, mom.” She muttered.

The dry heat of the morning sun was a welcome change from the damp warmth of her house. Only the shop owners were out, busy setting up the rickety tables and chairs they called a shop. Lissandra had bought just enough money to buy some breakfast for Leon. The rest of them would have to wait until lunch. But before she could buy food, she had to go see Jynx. If they wanted to eat next week as well, someone had to make money. When Lissandra arrived, Jynx’s door was already half open. She knocked on the door with three sharp raps. “Hi.” “Oh, it’s you again.” Jynx replied. “You’re quite the early bird aren’t you?” She carefully adjusted the masks hanging on her wall. “I could say the same for you.” “I have to get the store ready. I’m technically not even open.” Watching her was strangely calming. She would tilt the mask ever so slightly in one direction before deciding to tilt it back. Nothing would change, but she ended happier than when she started. Lissandra snapped out of her empty stare. “Oh, I can come back if—” “No, it’s alright. How’d the drop go?” Lissandra looked down at her bandaged knees. “Good enough.” “I have to say, I was surprised you even finished. Most Mice do drops in teams of four. I guess more money for you then.” Jynx went around the store to adjust the rest of her items. “Don’t call me a Mouse.” Jynx let out a short laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with taking pride in your work. After all, Mice save lives.”

“I’m not trying to save the world or anything, I just need money.” Jynx gave her a short nod and shrugged. “Anyways, what can I do for you?” “I want to do another drop.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jynx took two quick steps and closed the door. At last, she gave Lissandra her undivided attention. “I told you already, that was a onetime deal.” “I need the money.” Jynx sighed. “Everyone needs the money. You’re not special, so go sign up at Project Persist like the rest of the Mice.” “I would, but it could be weeks before I get signed up. And I don’t feel like asking my little brother if he’s willing to wait a few weeks before being hungry.” “Look, I gave you your drop because your father worked for mine and it was unfortunate what happened. But that was a one-time favor, that’s it.” “But if you did it once, you could do it again, right?” “I’m sorry that you’re in a tight spot, but I don’t owe you anything.” Lissandra’s brow furrowed. She looked back at the locked door, a frown stretched across her face. “Okay Jynx,” she said with her head down. She had expected as much. The world wasn’t going to let her catch a break twice in a row. No. She wasn’t here to make friends. And what would her excuses matter to Leon? “Jynx, you obviously don’t want people to know that you can assign drops, so here’s the new deal, I’ll keep your little secret, but in return, give me a drop.” Both Jynx’s eyebrows rose in unison. “Sorry, but food isn’t free.” Lissandra finished. “Call me whatever you want, if I can get food on the table back home, it’ll have been worth it.” Jynx stared in silence for a few seconds before responding. “Lissandra, I think that you’re a smart girl and I like you, so I want to remind you who you’re talking to. I know I

don’t really look it, but I’m still the daughter of The Dragon. So think very carefully when I ask you: are you threatening me?” Lissandra took a deep breath. “Absolutely.”

GUNTHER By the time Gunther awoke, Lissandra was already gone. He stepped out of their bedroom to see their mother in her usual place. He sighed and shook her awake. “Mom, go to your room, don’t let Leon wake up to this.” His mother groaned and rolled away from him. “Just let me sleep.” “Mother,” Gunther said as if scolding a child. “I’m the man of the house now, go sleep in your own bed, not on the couch like this. Elizabeth turned toward him, “I will, just give me a few minutes.” Her words brought out a nauseous gas of alcohol and morning breath. “I don’t have a few minutes. I need to get going to look for a job.” Elizabeth gave no response. She pulled her blankets up higher so that it covered half her face. Had this been a few days ago, Gunther would’ve tried coaxing her, but he was sick of this game. He grabbed a clump of her blankets and yanked it off of her. “Either way, you’re going into your room.” Gunther said. “I’ll either carry you there or you can get up and walk there yourself like a god damn adult.” This caught his mother’s attention. She jerked awake and stood up with a fierce scowl. Gunther straightened his back and returned her glare. He stood a whole head taller than her. “I’m the man of the house now,” Gunther repeated. “Go sleep in your room.” “I’m your mother.” “So go to your room, Elizabeth.” Elizabeth slapped Gunther, grunting with exertion. The slap resounded throughout the living room before dying down into a tense silence. Gunther didn’t even blink, he continued glaring. “Go.” He ordered Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stumbled away shaking her head. Gunther followed her the entire way with his gaze. It was only when her door had slammed shut that he allowed himself to look away. He sighed and left the house.

The Riverside Tavern was deserted, save a single table. The men around it wore facial hair tangled with dirt while the women wore dirty tops that revealed more than it covered. They hollered at Gunther, screaming nonsense and laughing. Gunther ignored them and proceeded to the bar. The bar itself shone brilliantly. Gunther could see his reflection through the polished wood. Even the stools by the bar stood without wobble. But besides the bar itself, cobwebs infected every corner of the Riverside Tavern. Old stains splashed across the rotting wood of the surrounding tables and chairs. “Do you have any work for me today?” Gunther asked the bartender. The bartender had a thick head of graying hair. The dim lighting of the bar glinted off his glasses as he looked up at Gunther. “I don’t.” His voice was deep and scratchy. “Please, I really need the money. I’m willing to do whatever, just give me enough for some food and I’ll work all day.” “Gunther, no matter how many times you ask me, I still won’t have work for you.” “Do you know of anyone that might be hiring? I’m strong and I work hard. I can do anything.” “I don’t have anything for you to do.” The bartender responded. “Look, I heard about what happened to your dad. I knew him back when he was working in Hawk’s Lair. So consider this a favor. I know somebody who’s looking for workers, I can pass on your name if you’d like.” “Please!” “Well, perhaps ‘favor’ is the wrong word to use.” The bartender took off his glasses and looked at Gunther with an icy blue eye. His other eye was a faded grey, the pupil completely useless. “These aren’t the type of people you can say no to, Gunther. If I do this, you’ll do whatever is asked of you to do.” Gunther gave the bartender a curious look. “What kind of work is this?”

“It’s whatever is asked of you.” Gunther gave him a fragile smile. “You’re not giving me too much to go off of.” The bartender’s frown deepened. “Come back once you decide to accept, otherwise, don’t.” The bar fell to silence. Gunther looked around, for the first time noticing that the rambunctious table had completely quieted. Everyone at the table now stared at him. Gunther gave them a small nod before retreating out of the bar.

BOLT I can’t fail again. Bolt recited his speech in his head. Usually, if the sun was up, Bolt was out and about. He would climb on top of buildings and use their roofs as his own personal highway. But today, Bolt had spent his hours of sunlight rehearsing what he would tell Sasha. He hid from her until most the sun had vanished. Now that they were in the midst of preparing for their final drop, he could avoid her no longer. “Sasha,” Bolt called out. Spread out under Sasha was a map of the city. It was the only help Project Persist had given them. Sasha looked up, nibbling on her thumb. “Yeah Bolt?” Bolt looked around to make sure that nobody else was within earshot. “I don’t want to be last.” Sasha frowned and looked back down. “Okay.” Bolt stood over Sasha, waiting for her to say more. The longer he waited, the more restless he became. He jammed his hands into his pockets and stood like a statue. “Okay then. Let me know which leg of the drop is mine, and… thanks.” He turned to leave. That was it? “Stop,” Sasha said. Bolt turned and watched her stand. He clenched his hands into fists. This was the talk he had been preparing for. “Bolt, I know what you want me to say and if I had more time, I’d sit you down and tell you proper, but I don’t. So let me ask you one thing: are you really okay with this?” Bolt had imagined Sasha to be a lot less tame. He nodded. “It’s better this way. We can’t fail.” With a sigh, Sasha stood up and closed her eyes. “Bolt.” When her eyes opened again, her words held the edge he had expected them to. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. You don’t even have to go on this last drop. But if you’re going to decide not to, don’t use me as your excuse.”

“I’m not,” Bolt replied. “I just want to do what’s best for everyone.” “It was everyone that decided you would finish our drops. Everyone believed in you, they still do. It’s only you who’s changed. Do you see Prince and Maverick here trying to switch the order of the drop? Only you’re here.” “No.” Bolt had prepared all morning, but now that he was actually talking to Sasha, all the words he had recited disappeared. Instead, he found new ones that brought tears to his eyes. “I can’t do it. I barely slept last night just thinking about what would happen if I failed again. Especially as the last leg of the drop. You don’t know what it’s like to finish a drop. There’s the most Hawks. They’re the most desperate. And for all I know, one of you could’ve died getting me the medicine! If I fail, then what would any of that mean?” Surprisingly, Sasha responded with a gentle smile. “I know it’s hard and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that we ever asked that of you, but it’s not because we expect you to shoulder everything on your own, it’s because you’re our best bet.” “That’s a lie! Any of you would make a better choice than me.” “Then why did we all pick you? We need you, Bolt. That doesn’t change depending on your mood.” “I can’t,” he whispered. Sasha walked up to him and gripped his shoulders. “Okay Bolt.” She mimicked his volume. “Switch spots with me, you go first.” “If I can do it, one of you can probably do it better. I’m not strong like Maverick, or smart like Prince. And for how brave you are, I’m a fucking coward. It’s like God only made me fast to run away!” Despite his best efforts, Bolt couldn’t hold back his tears. He stared at his feet, watching his shame rain down onto the floor. “Bolt.” Sasha gave his shoulder a small squeeze. “Grit your teeth.” “What?” Before Bolt could look up, he felt Sasha’s fist ram into his cheek. He stumbled into the side of the wall and fell onto the ground. “What was that for?” he screamed, his mouth throbbing through every syllable. “Nobody talks about my family like that.” Sasha stood over Bolt with a proud smile.

Bolt winced as he massaged his cheeks. He always knew how ridiculous Sasha was, but sometimes she still managed to surprise him. “You didn’t have to hit me,” he finally said. Sasha gave him an outstretched hand. “Yeah I did. If you ever have doubts, I’ll always be here to help you through them. And if you ever start giving into those doubts, you can always count on me to knock some sense into you. So get up off the floor, Bolt.”

JAKE Dust coated the room. All the windows held decaying planks of wood in front of them. Only slivers of sunlight made it through. The sunlight did very little to brighten the room. In the corner were two boys nearly passed out and in the middle, a table with Jake and Bryce. Jake’s leg shook. His chair rattled like a snare drum. Occasionally, his knee would hit the tabletop in a deep percussive note. The room lacked any color save for a single yellow package with a knife stuck through it. Jake yanked the knife and watched it bleed white powder. He brought the knife up to his nose and snorted the powder off of it. “Aghh shit!” he screamed. His chair creaked, complaining about his sporadic movements. “Fuck!” He stood up and sent his chair crashing toward the ground. “I can’t believe that bitch got away!” He slashed the air at the imaginary Mouse in front of him. “Careful Jake.” Bryce was also shaking. But unlike Jake, he was at least able to remain seated. “I’m not gonna fucking hit anything.” He continued slashing into the air. His left hand stung which only served to anger him more. “I mean don’t take too much, The Boss will notice.” Jake stabbed his knife into the package once again. “Who the fuck cares. I’m not scared of him. It’s not like any of us has ever met him in person. He’s too much of a wimp.” Bryce frowned and scratched his bald head. “He’s willing to go up against The Dragon. Someone like that has to be pretty strong. I can respect that.” Thick red lines twisted and intertwined into some strange circle on Bryce’s head. They were painted as if part of some ritual, but Jake had never heard Bryce speak of religion. It was probably a tattoo just to distract from his baldness. “Fuck!” Jake snorted another line of powder. His body yanked itself up as if having seizure. He picked up his chair and slammed it back upright. “I know, I know. I’m not that stupid. It’s just that she was mine! I had her!” He fell into his chair. “Who?”

“The fucking Mouse that got away. She was face flat on the dirt and then that redeyed bitch came along to fuck everything up!” He paused to look at Bryce, “If I ever find her again, she won’t get so lucky. What do you think Number One?” “My name’s Abrim.” Number One sat in a corner on the ground with Number Two. His eyes were closed as he pushed a needle into his arm. He let out a slow moan. “Fucking Stickers.” Jake shook his head in disgust. “Much better to do the powder, doesn’t get your mind so fucked up. Isn’t that right Number One?” “I have a name.” Number One barely whispered. Already he was drifting in and out of consciousness, following Number Two’s example. “Like I’m going to give fucking Stickers a name. Right Number Two?” Number Two murmured something inaudible. Both Number One and Number Two had small frames that still managed to stretch their skin. If not for the occasional twitch of a toe, Jake could believe that they died. Not that it mattered. Jake sighed and looked back at Bryce, “I swear to God, these replacements keep getting worse. I liked our previous Number One and Two better.” “All they ever do is send us more fucking Stickers. Worthless pieces of trash, can’t run for shit either,” Bryce said. “Good thing they’re such excellent conversationalists!” Jake shouted at Number One and Two. “Especially when they’re sticking!” There was no response. “Fucking Stickers. I hope The Slasher rips your throat out,” Jake said as he drove his knife back into the package. A small white cloud puffed up. “Have you heard?” Bryce asked Jake. “Apparently The Slasher took out The Boss’s number one Hawk, Jericho.” “Him? He was a piece of shit.” “Yeah, but pretty strong.” Jake chuckled. “I guess that makes us the new number one. More money to us then. I bet you that The Slasher’s just some Mouse with a grudge.” Jake shook his head. “He should really be careful what enemies he makes.”

Bryce laughed. “Maybe we should be the ones being careful. We might be next.” Jake spit on the ground. “I bet he’s not so tough. If I ever meet him, I’ll cut his fucking balls off.” “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” “You scared?” Bryce shook his head. “I just don’t want to be disappointed.” Jake opened his mouth to retaliate, but three sharp knocks on the door interrupted him. The conversation came to a halt. In two quick strides, Jake was out the door. He found the bag he was looking for, carefully sealed as always. “More orders?” Bryce asked. Jake ripped open the bag and took out a neatly folded piece of paper. “Yep.” He tossed it to Bryce to read. Though he would never admit it, he had never learned such a skill. “It looks like he wants us to hunt tonight.” “The Boss said… not to go out tonight,” Number One slurred from the corner. It sounded like his tongue had numbed. His head fell forward as if his neck couldn’t support its weight. “He said…, he said it’d be… danger… ous.” Jake was impressed Number One even had the ability to even respond. “Well, we got new orders now,” he snapped, but Number One had already fallen asleep. Jake watched him drooling on himself. Stickers are pathetic. “Shit,” Bryce whistled. “Jake, I think today might be your lucky day.” He held out the letter for Jake to see. “How was it you described that green-eyed Mouse?” Jake stared into a pair of familiar emerald eyes. Without all the sweat and tangled hair, this girl was beautiful. He ripped the picture off the letter, staring at it more closely. Without a doubt, this was the Mouse he had lost. Jake smiled. Life was truly wonderful.

LISSANDRA Lissandra tied the laces around her shoes extra tight. She only had one shot to prove her worth to Jynx. When her laces were tied, she stepped into the fading sunlight. “I’m going out, mom,” Lissandra shouted. “Liss, why are you leaving so late?” Leon asked, waddling after her. Lissandra turned and picked Leon up. Her arms shook when she raised Leon above her breast. She gave him a small kiss on his nose, “You’ve gotten so heavy Leon. I can barely even hold you up anymore.” “Where are you going?” Lissandra put him down and nudged him back towards the house. “I’m going to get some food. I’ll be right back.” “Where?” Leon’s face was flush, even he could see through such an obvious lie. “Yeah, the markets closed so where are you going little sister?” Gunther leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. His eyes honed into Lissandra’s. “It’s pretty late, what could you possibly be doing?” Lissandra frowned, her brow furrowed. “Mind your own business, Gunther.” “You’re my little sister, this is my business.” “You don’t own me. I’m just going out for a walk.” “But I thought you were getting food.” Gunther’s voice was firm and sharp. It reminded Lissandra of when her father would scold her. Gunther was becoming to look like him too. “Liss, I’m the man of the house now, tell me where you’re going?” “Are you going to ground me then, big brother?” Gunther stepped toward her. “No, but I will stop you.” Lissandra curled her hands into fists. “Do it then.” They glared at each other, neither moving. At last, Gunther looked away. He grabbed Leon’s hand and led him back into the house. With a scowl, he said, “I know you’re trying to make money. But don’t do anything you can’t explain to Leon.”

What the fuck do you think I’m doing? Lissandra’s teeth clamped together like she had just been hit. She would’ve preferred that. “I’d like to see you bring home some money then,” she muttered, but nobody was there to hear her. She could guess what Gunther thought she was doing. The thought made her grind her teeth together. But she didn’t turn back. No matter what he thought, they would all starve without her. She turned and left.

GUNTHER Gunther sat at the edge of the bed, his leg shaking. Both Leon and his mother were fast asleep. He stared out the window as the last bit of sunlight crept away. He had tried sleeping, but every time he closed his eyes, all he could think about was Lissandra. What could she be doing so late at night and how was she making money? He didn’t dare answering the question. Back when their father was still alive, whenever he left the house, he’d always call on Gunther to take care of Lissandra. After all, it was the older brother’s duty to do so. But now, Lissandra was coming home with all sorts of bruises and cuts, and secrets she refused to tell. If dad could see me now, he’d be so ashamed. Gunther hammered his shaking knee with a fist. Only then, did his knee finally settle. Careful not to wake Leon or his mother, he left the house. There was only a single man he knew of that had the money to employ him. He walked to Hawk’s Lair. The entrance doors stretched a few feet higher than him. They looked like they were built for giants. Gunther grabbed one of the golden handles and pulled the door open. A cool breeze of lavender wafted over him. If heaven existed, it probably felt like this. “Hello, welcome to Hawk’s Lair,” a black vested receptionist said from behind the podium. Her lips split into a bright red smile. As soon as she saw him, the smile waned. “I thought we told you that you’re not allowed here anymore.” “I need a job,” Gunther responded. “My father used to work here, I can take his. I’m a fast learner. I’m willing to do anything.” The receptionist whispered into the microphone clipped to her vest. When she was done, it was like Gunther had disappeared. She stared straight through him, ready for the next customer to walk in the front doors. Gunther looked over at the flashing lights reflecting off chandeliers worth enough to feed his family for life. All the tables and chairs in this place was made of wood so polished he could see his reflection in them. All over the place, people tossed around more money

than he’s ever held onto in his life. His grimy and loose-fitted t-shirt looked disgusting next to the two-piece suits that they wore. “It’s this kid again,” a guard said as he approached the podium. He looked over at Gunther with an exasperated frown. “Hi.” Gunther gave off a half-hearted wave. The guard, in a black suit and tie, looked more like a butler than a guard. “Look, kid,” he said, “Go beg somewhere else. I’m tired of always having to throw you out.” The last time Gunther had encountered this guard, the guard had twisted his foot until he was crying in pain and promising to never come back. In times like these, there was only a single thing to do. Gunther fell to his knees and brought his hands up in a pleading motion. “Please.” “Kid, last chance, I’m going to break a few of your bones this time.” If Liss ever gets hurt under my watch… Gunther clenched his eyes shut. “Please!” Two hands shoved Gunther to the ground and a foot stomped his head into the ground. He made no move to fight back or escape. The foot came again, this time twisting as it crunched his nose deeper into the velvet carpet. “Hey!” the receptionist snapped and the foot disappeared. “Don’t get blood on the floor.” Gunther peeked up at the guard. The guard’s massive arms were crossed and he looked angry. Gunther put his head back into the carpet and closed his eyes. I’m the man of the house, if someone has to get hurt, it should be me. Not Liss. Not Leon. Me. The guard grabbed one of Gunther’s arms. “What do I have to do to make you get the message? Just leave and don’t come back.” No matter how Gunther tried yanking his arm out of the guard’s grip, the difference in their strength was all too obvious. With nervous breaths, Gunther shook his head. He heard a pop and keeled over in pain. Tears swelled inside his eyes and he grabbed onto his shoulder, feeling an abnormal bump.

“You ready to leave forever, kid?” Gunther squeezed tears out of his eyes. “I would always show up on time,” he croaked. “I wouldn’t ever miss a single day of work, no matter what.” The guard sighed. “I warned you.” With another pop, both Gunther’s arms hung uselessly by his sides. This time, Gunther screamed, loud enough to get the attention of the gamblers. He fell onto his side, his body shaking as large tears rolled down his cheek. “Ready to leave yet?” the guard asked apathetically “I can wash the bathrooms,” he cried. “I’ll do the things nobody else wants to. I’m a very hard worker.” “Are you really going to make me break your legs and carry you out?” Gunther clenched his mouth shut and talked through closed teeth. “You don’t even need to pay me very much.”

LAO The carpeting in Hawk’s Lair was imported from Egypt. A small piece of it was worth more than the average life in this place. Lao stepped on this carpet watching his guard straining to break the boy’s leg. “Enough,” Lao said. “And you, boy, shut up.” Both did as they were told. The guard stood, his back perfectly straight and his eyes staring at nothing. The boy’s cries disappeared, replaced by heavy breaths. “Stand and face me when I address you, boy.” The boy peeked up before deciding to do so. He stood a few inches taller than Lao, but his head remained down and his shoulders scrunched. Both his arms dangled off his thin frame. “Do you hate me, boy?” The boy shook his head. “Why would I?” “Because, it was by my command that both your arms are now broken. It was also by my command that your father died. And because I control this city, you can say that it is by my command you’re so desperate for work.” The boy’s eyes darted up for just a second. He remained silent, but the look he had given Lao told more than any words could. Lao caught his eyes and smiled. “You resent me. So, why are you so desperately trying to work for the man you hate? Surely money can’t mean that much to you.” “It doesn’t, but I have a little sister, and a little brother that do. My mom can’t find work in her condition and I’m the man of the house.” Lao pat the boy on the arm. “Good man. Now breathe.” He pushed the boy’s arm up until he heard a pop. The boy yelped but remained standing. Lao walked over to the boy’s other arm. “Unfortunately, good men do not last.” He popped the boy’s other arm back into its socket.

The boy bowed his head. “Please, Dragon. I’m looking for work.” “How about I give you something better?” Lao pulled a silver revolver from his jacket and rested its barrel on the boy’s head. “A final lesson.” The boy flinched away from the gun. His eyes strained to their furthest edges to stare at its barrel. “I hate good men. I specifically asked that your limbs be broken, not dislocated. You see, I wanted to give you a fair warning. It was because the next time you walked through these doors, I would’ve had you killed. My brutality was my mercy. But due to the goodness of men’s hearts, you weren’t even spared mercy.” “Please,” the boy whispered. “Don’t kill me.” Lao paused to think for a moment before responding. “What if I were to buy your life? How much must I pay to pull this trigger? Name a price.” “No.” The boy shook his head. Disbelief did not look good on him. “Boy, I will pull this trigger regardless. You may as well leave something behind for the ones you care about.” “Please, I just want to take care of my little sister.” “And I am giving you a way to do so.” Lao waited for an answer, but none came. “You can’t even bring yourself to say a number? Unfortunate.” Lao’s finger tightened around the trigger. Just then, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Salib. “We have a situation, Dragon.” “What is it?” Lao asked, lowering his gun. “Our men caught a man claiming to be a Lion. He had enough gasoline to burn down Hawk’s lair. He claims that tonight is the night the Lions strike.” Lao gave Salib a single nod. “Let’s talk more in my office.” Salib returned the nod and left. Lao turned to follow him, but stopped mid-step. “Wait, I almost forgot.” He brought his gun to the boy’s head and pulled the trigger.

The hammer cocked back before swinging forward and producing a metal clang. The boy jumped at its sound. He screamed and clenched his eyes shut, but the revolver only produced an empty click. “Pow,” Lao said and lowered his gun. “Leave, boy, and never come back.” With a small whimper, the boy ran out of Hawk’s Lair.

BOLT The sky was a blue darker than the river, slowly fading to black. Already the moon was out, though it had yet to produce its brilliant light. “I’m guessing every Hawk in this city is already looking for us.” Bolt jogged in place, warming up his body. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and the Hawks won’t be out tonight.” Yeah right. Hawks always knew when the Mice were coming. It was like they had a sixth sense. Whenever there was a drop, entire flocks of Hawks patrolled the streets. Bolt felt the pills in his pocket. “If I’m lucky, I won’t have to start running until half way through the drop.” In his other pocket, he had hidden the knife Prince had bought for him. Its leather sheath poked him with every step. “If you’re lucky you’ll make it the entire way.” Bolt rolled his eyes, “I’m pretty sure Hawks recognize my face by now. Plus, the sun’s almost down, I doubt there will be much of a crowd to hide in.” Flower gave him a weak smile, “Remember, Maverick will be at the river waiting. It’s not too far away, I’ll be waiting for you here. So come back quick.” Bolt nodded. “I know, I know.” He gave Flower a soft smile. “Flower, I won’t fail. No matter what.” He wished he had the words to reassure her down, but no such words existed. “Just be safe,” she said. Her weary eyes fell with her smile. For a second, her eyes looked decades older than herself. He mustered up a grin. “Alright, well I’m off.” All drops started the same way. Head down, eyes to the floor, and walking at an inconspicuous pace. Ideally, a drop could be completed without running. However, Hawks were always quick to spot mice. I won’t fail again. No matter what.

He hadn’t even made it a quarter of the way through the drop before he felt a pair of eyes set on the back of his head. Hawks no doubt. He chewed on his lip as his heart rate spiked. In a single step, he juked into an alley into a full-on sprint. Heavy footsteps gave chase, but Bolt trusted his legs. He ramped up his speed, the brick walls around him a multi-colored blur. Slowly, the Hawk’s footsteps faded. Bolt allowed himself a small smile. It seemed stupid that he was so worried beforehand. I’ve done this almost a hundred times now. This is old news. In his mind, he was telling Flower not to worry. A single crack pierced the still air, shattering whatever expectations Bolt held about drops. An orange ball of flame whizzed past him into a trashcan, spewing out an explosion of short-lived embers. Bolt jerked away. His legs tangled together and he crashed down. “What the—” Another crack. A bullet zipped by. It wasn’t a Hawk behind Bolt, but a figure cloaked in green. It wore a white with two holes where the eyes should be. Bursts of light exploded form its hand, each followed by thunder. Bolt scrambled up just in time for another bullet to smash into the brick beside him. He took off down the alley a rat in a maze. Every turn looked the same; for all he knew, he was running in circles. His calves burned like napalm racing through his veins. His legs moved on their own. When the alleys disappeared and the gunshots came only as echoes, Bolt finally dug his heels into the ground. He had run miles off course in the wrong direction into a residential area. Following the gunshots, the city had come back to life. Every house had their lights on. Bolt could hear muffled words through every wall. Some even ventured outside to investigate. “Who the fuck is shooting off fireworks?” One angry resident said. “That sounded like gunshots.” Another responded. “Impossible, The Dragon would never allow it.” Bolt ignored them. Already, his shirt was soaked in sweat. He stared at the road that led toward Maverick, frozen. He reached into his pockets to make sure the pills were still there, but his hands trembled more than his knees, too much to even fit inside his pockets.

Ahead of him, gunshots echoed, some sharp like the crack of a whip, others dull like the faraway rumbling of thunder. Whatever was going on, it was city-wide. Just standing proved difficult. Bolt was named after his speed, not his stamina. Going back now would not only prove stupid, but lethal. However, like an itch he couldn’t scratch, his thoughts always returned to one thing. No matter what.

LISSANDRA Lissandra had never run with such a heavy bag before. It wasn’t at all what she was expecting from Jynx. Its wet leather straps rubbed her shoulder raw. She skirted into an alley and crashed into the wall, absorbing the impact with her arms. “Mouse!” Lissandra ducked between piles of trash bags. The sickly sour fumes of rotting food overpowered the gasoline smell of her backpack. A cloud of flies burst from the trash, annoyed to have their homes disturbed. They buzzed around angrily as she curled herself up deeper inside. Her pursuing Hawks ran through the alley completely oblivious to her. When their footsteps faded, Lissandra crawled out. “I’m not a Mouse,” Lissandra muttered. It’s what Jynx had told her. Though she was doing a drop, she wasn’t doing it as a Mouse. Instead, she was something entirely different, a delivery girl for a purpose Jynx wouldn’t say. But it must’ve been important because Jynx had doused her bag with gasoline and told her to burn it if she were caught. Lissandra circled back toward the dirt streets. She was less familiar with this part of the city. In the dark, it was hard to recognize even the buildings she had once been to. They all just looked like shadows, black structures blending into a black background. Lissandra looked back every few steps, certain that at any moment, Hawks would burst from the darkness. And then she heard a soft crunch behind her. Footsteps!?I Her breath caught in her throat. She whipped her head around and stared into the shadows. Nothing stirred. All she could see was the faint outline of buildings. I’m going crazy. She reached into her pocket to fidget with her lighter, but she found it only made her more nervous. The prospect of playing with fire when wearing a fuel soaked backpack was anything but calming. “I’m probably just being followed by the Slasher,” she chuckled. But already her hands had balled into small fists.

Lissandra went down the open street, deliberately walking in the moonlight. It felt as if the moon could ward off her fears. She looked over her shoulder again to stare into the shadows, scrutinizing every detail. By now, she had lost count of the number of times she had done this. “It’s all in my head.” But no matter how much she tried, her mind would still conjured up the occasional footstep. And every once and a while, she would see a slight movement in the darkness, just the flickering of a shadow. Why am I so paranoid? She knew why. It was the way Jynx had inspected her before giving her this job. She had stared into Lissandra’s eyes as if to look into her very soul. It was equally bizarre that Jynx wouldn’t even tell her what was in the package. All she knew was the address she was to leave the bag at. Then there was the thunder, or fireworks, or whatever it was. But the night was filled with the occasional burst of sound, like God clapping his hands together in slow applause. Lissandra shivered. She reached into her pocket and squeezed the handle of her knife. She had never used one before, except to cut vegetables. Squeezing its metal now gave her comfort. The cold iron anchored her back to reality where there were no phantom footsteps and shadows didn’t flicker. “Hello Mouse.” A male voice said. Lissandra jumped and twisted her head to see a pair of eyes from inside the shadows. She blinked, making sure she wasn’t just seeing things. “You’re quite the airhead aren’t you?” Another deep voice said from behind her. Lissandra turned back around to see the street blocked by a dark figure. “You should really be more aware of your surroundings.” The two voices took turns talking as they slowly approached her, their footsteps softly crunching against the ground. “But don’t worry, we’re nice Hawks.” Lissandra turned to see a tattooed face walking into the moonlight. He was bald, with a strange symbol drawn into his head in red ink. The lines twisted together like two serpents trying to squeeze each other to death.

“Yeah, we won’t take everything you have.” The other Hawk laughed as he too stepped into the moonlight. He flicked his wavy blonde hair out of his face with a knife. “Just most of it.”

JAKE Jake watched Bryce circle around ahead of the Mouse. It was hard not to appreciate how guileful Bryce was. Even though Jake knew where he was going, it was still hard to track him. All that Jake had to go off of was the occasional flickering of a shadow. He stared at the swishing blonde ponytail in front of him. For some reason, this Mouse was avoiding the shadows like the plague. She walked stupidly out in the open, completely illuminated by the moon’s spotlight. When Bryce was in position, Jake stood up from his hiding spot. “Hello Mouse.” The Mouse jumped, her mouth open and eyes wide. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. “You’re quite the airhead aren’t you?” Bryce called out from ahead of them. The Mouse jerked her head so quickly that Jake thought it might snap off. Only now did she understand her predicament. Her eyes scrambled from side to side, looking for escape. She would find none. He continued taunting her with Bryce, each slowly advancing toward her and each taking turns talking. They did this until they had left the veil of the shadows. “Don’t be such a stranger,” Jake chuckled. “After all, we’ll be spending the next few hours together.” Bryce laughed, “Few hours? Don’t give yourself so much credit Jake.” “Fuck off Bryce.” Jake waved his knife in front of him. Bits of white powder dissipated into the air. “So Mouse, what’s your name?” The Mouse remained silent. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crude knife. She continuously pivoted so neither Jake nor Bryce could approach her back. “Careful now.” Bryce said. “You shouldn’t play with knives.” “Mouse, do you remember me?” Jake ran his eyes down her body. He inched toward her, now close enough to lunge forward and grab her.

The Mouse turned to face him. She took her backpack off and dumped out what looked like a brick wrapped in a brown paper bag. With a single push, she slid it over to Bryce. Bryce stopped the package with his foot. He looked up, his mouth twitching with a laugh. “Jake, this is—” Before Bryce could finish his sentence, the Mouse fell onto her bandaged knees and started sobbing. With her knife still in hand, she covered her face, her body shaking. Jake smiled at the sight. “Giving up so soon?” Jake flicked close his knife and slid it into his pocket. “Wait, Jake,” Bryce held up the package for Jake to see. But Jake didn’t look, it didn’t matter to him. He had been denied this prize for too long. And now, there would be no stranger to save her. “It’s alright Mouse, this will only hurt at first.” He grabbed her backpack and slowly took the straps off her shoulders as if undressing her. “Let’s get this off of you.” To his surprise, there was no resistance. The Mouse had resigned herself to her fate. She even stopped crying, though her face was still covered. Jake flung her backpack onto his back and slid his hands gently onto the Mouse’s bare shoulders. He became more adventurous with his hands. His fingertips occasionally brushed the soft clasps of her bra. The slight touch sent jolts of electricity through his fingertips. “Don’t worry Mouse, you’ll thank me later for this.” Jake whispered. Without warning, the Mouse launched herself backwards so her head collided with Jake’s chin. His teeth slammed together in a hollow crack. She turned, the knife in her hand swinging toward him, but her inexperience showed with her speed. Jake grabbed her arm and lunged on top of her, pinning her onto the ground. He threw her wrist into the ground. “You still want to fight?” Jake screamed. The pain in his chin flared with every word. “You bitch!” The Mouse swung her free hand at him, but he turned to block the blow with her backpack. The Mouse continued to struggle under him, but it was no use, he had won.

Then Jake smelled the fire. It was as if the smell itself triggered his pain. He yelped and jumped up, dancing in circles. He twisted his head expecting to see a thousand needles stabbed into his back, instead, he saw an inferno. “Don’t worry, you’ll thank me later for this.” The Mouse’s foot swung up and crushed his genitals. Jake crunched into a ball. His knees buckled and he fell groaning on his side. Movement became impossible. Just breathing threw him into a compulsive shudder. The smell of burnt flesh lingered in the air.

BRYCE With a single punch, Bryce crushed the girl’s nose. She went down in a heap. He ripped the burning backpack off Jake and threw it away. The fire had left Jake’s shirt in strands revealing ashen skin. Nothing life threatening, but he would need medicine. “Mouse, do you even know what you were delivering?” Bryce circled the groaning girl. She held her nose with both hands. Blood spilled out from the cracks between her fingers. He kicked away the lighter she had dropped. “It was a god damn brick! I’ve never seen anything like that in my life.” He hooted. “You risked your life for a piece of rock!” But it seemed that the Mouse was more worried about her nose than about what Bryce had to say. He took a seat on her belly and pried her bloody hands to her sides, pinning them to the ground with his knees. Her nose bent awkwardly toward the right. “Listen to me when I speak to you. First off, what’s your name?” Bryce asked. Without giving the Mouse a chance to ignore his question, Bryce twisted her nose. The girl let out a shrill shriek. “Don’t worry girl, I’m just trying to straighten up your nose is all.” Bryce laughed and pinched her nose. “Lissandra,” the girl shouted between heaving breaths. “Lissandra,” Bryce played with the word, as if feeling it out in his mouth. “What a pretty name. Lissandra, I think your nose is a little crooked.” Bryce grabbed her nose and jerked it until he heard a pop. The girl’s screams reached a fever pitch. “Do you think that someone will help you if you keep screaming?” He looked around at all the houses beside them and grinned. Some glowed orange with light, others were so dark they looked abandoned. He knew that all of them were full of people, but he also knew that none would come out. “Normal people don’t care what happens to Mice and Hawks, scream all you want Lissandra, nobody’s coming. So, let’s go apologize to my friend.” Bryce grabbed a clump of her hair and dragged her toward Jake. She fought him every inch of the way. With his free hand, Bryce plugged an ear, unable to stand her cries. “Jake, get up. You can go first.” Jake shook on the ground, his face still half-submerged in his own vomit.

Bryce shrugged, “I guess I’ll go first then.” He stepped around Lissandra, grinning from ear to ear. In one motion, he ripped the buttons off her shorts, sitting on her stomach to pin her to the ground. As soon as the buttons on her shorts popped out, Lissandra erupted into a fit of hysteria. Her screams became even more strident. She flung her head from side to side as she kicked her legs, desperately trying to squirm her way out of Bryce’s grip. But Bryce was much larger than her. He easily held her down. In a single swing to the gut, Bryce knocked the breath out of Lissandra. Her thrashing arms died down and her hysteria reduced itself to a fit of coughing. “Lissandra, I hope this isn’t your first time.” He loved that Lissandra was so helpless under him. But every now and then, her body would twitch, squirming away from him. Her teeth would grit together and those emerald eyes scrambled from side to side, still looking for escape. But Bryce preferred it this way. Hope was just another thing he could take from her. He placed his hands on her hips and dragged her shorts down. “Bryce!” Jake screamed. A glint of moonlight caught his eye. Bryce ducked as a knife whistled over his head. He fell into a roll and jumped backwards to dodge the second strike. Bryce stumbled up to see a blonde-haired boy. His attacker was young with a loosefitting shirt. In his right hand was an elegant silver knife. “Who are the fuck are you?” Bryce asked wide-eyed. “My name is Prince, I’m a Mouse, and if you touch her again, I’m going to rip your throat out!”

PRINCE Prince wanted to investigate the screams, but Bolt came first. No matter how fast Bolt was, nobody could outrun a bullet. But as the screams grew more horrific, he found himself drawn to them. Before he knew it, he had made it to their source. “Lissandra, I hope this isn’t your first time,” said a gruff voice. Prince peeked around the corner. His breath caught. “I can’t tell you what happened. Prince, please forgive me.” Sasha’s voice filled his head. She was crying back then, apologizing to him even when she hadn’t done anything. And she wasn’t one to apologize ever. Back then, it was raining, a soft mist whose droplets tickled the skin. Sasha had staggered back in that rain alone, her shoulders down and eyes glued to her feet. “I’m so sorry, Prince.” Prince dug his nails into the palm of his hands. Before he knew it, he was already charging. “Bryce!” Prince swung his knife at the bald Hawk’s head. The Hawk ducked just in time, but before he could reorient himself, Prince lunged at him. The blade missed again. “Who are you?” The Hawk asked after stumbling backwards. Prince didn’t miss a beat. “My name is Prince, I’m a Mouse, and if you touch her again, I’m going to rip your throat out!” “You know her?” Bryce asked, pulling his pants up. “Have you ever met a red-eyed Mouse?” Through his tears, Prince could only make out the outline of the world around him. “And what if I have?” Bryce inched backwards toward the empty shells of the street vendors. “Did you ever do—” Prince looked at the girl he just saved. She shook on the ground as she silently sobbed to herself. “—this to her.”

“What’s it to you?” Prince erupted. “Answer me!” Bryce gripped the leg of a wooden stool, flipping it upside down so he could carry it by just its leg. He gave Prince a toothy grin. “What are you going to do about it?” It was like time skipped. A flash of white and then Prince found himself halfway to Bryce. With perfect timing, Bryce swung the stool. Prince leaned backwards as the rotting wood just barely missed his nose. Prince screamed and jabbed his knife forward. The blow didn’t connect. Bryce dodged backwards with expert timing. This time, he used the stool as a lance, jousting Prince away from him. The blunt end of the seat hit Prince in the chest and knocked him backwards. Prince was still off-balance when the blunt end hit him again, toppling him to the ground. Bryce raised the stool above his head, a smile on his face. Prince rolled as the stool crashed into the dirt beside him. It exploded in an eruption of splinters leaving Bryce a sharpened wooden leg. Prince jumped to his feet. “Your friend,” Bryce said. “She made sounds like no other. That slut begged me for more. She couldn’t get enough. It didn’t matter that his legs ached. All that mattered was the picture of Sasha, apologizing to him over and over again. Prince heard the blow before he felt it, the sharp crack of wood breaking across his cheek. His head hit the ground. He looked up at Bryce, the ground spinning underneath. “Pathetic.” Despite how close Bryce stood, his voice sounded like it came from afar. He dropped the broken chair leg and stepped toward Prince. “I lied earlier. I’ve never met a red-eyed Mouse before. But I think it’s time I went looking.” Prince tried pushing himself up, but the most he could manage was to simply hold his head up. “Can’t you see how weak you are?” Bryce snatched Prince’s wrist and pried the knife out of his hand. “You have a shiny knife and all of a sudden you think you’re a hero. How can someone this weak save anyone? Listen Mouse, strength is all that matters.”

Behind Bryce, approached a dark figure. It was the girl. “Die!” She screamed and swung. A brick shattered against Bryce’s back. Bryce croaked and jerked toward the sky. He dropped the knife as both hands shot behind him to search for his wound. Lissandra didn’t go for a second blow, instead, she keeled over panting. “Run,” she whispered. Bryce spun into a wild punch that connected with her jaw. She stumbled backward, her hands hung below her. It looked as if she was a doll. In two steps, Bryce was upon her again. The next blow hit her gut, folding her in half as she clutched her stomach on her way to the ground. Get up! Prince grabbed his knife and pushed against the ground, inching his way up. Bryce turned around. “You want more?” Prince grit his teeth. The world came in three blurry images. Prince took a small step forward and nearly fell back down. “I’ll save you,” Prince muttered.

LISSANDRA All Lissandra wanted was to sleep. She laid her head down and fantasized about closing her eyes. Perhaps she would open them again to find that this had all just been a dream. She chuckled at the thought. She would’ve conceded if not for Prince. She couldn’t give up when he was still fighting. She watched Prince stagger toward her, slowly fanning his knife in front of him. His body swayed with every step. The outcome of the fight was obvious. Bryce waited patiently for Prince, his fists clenched tightly. Thank you, Mouse. Lissandra took a massive breath and screamed. “Run!” No reason both of them had to die tonight. Every breath was a chore but she forced her lungs to fight as hard as Prince. “Run!” Prince opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Lissandra screamed once more. “Get out!” She felt her eyes swelling with tears. “You won’t win.” Prince stopped in his tracks, looking from Bryce to her. You’ve done enough for me. “You can’t save me, so leave me the fuck alone!” It was all she had energy left to say. Her words threw Bryce into a fit of laughter. It held the opposite effect on Prince, he looked at her as if betrayed. And then, he took a single step backwards. “Come back, hero.” Bryce taunted him. “Aren’t you going to save her?” Prince took another step back and wailed, a sound that reminded Lissandra of an animal losing its young. He collapsed onto his knees and screamed into his hands. “You know what I’m going to do to her right?” Bryce asked. “I’m going to make sure she goes through hell tonight. And then I’m going to find this red-eyed Mouse of yours and do the same.” Please live.

Prince scooted backwards, leaving a trail of tears and blood behind him. At last, he reached the edge of the wall where the store kiosks were. He grabbed ahold of a stool and pulled himself up. Bryce was upon her before Prince could get out of earshot. It was by design. He probably wanted Prince to see just how bad it was going to be for her. She didn’t know if it was possible, but she tried begging Prince to turn away with just her eyes. Her pants came down. Then her underwear. And then she felt a scorching pain. She bit into her lip, determined not to utter a sound. Prince stared back, his mouth agape. He took small shaky steps away from her. With a final look, he turned and left. Lissandra closed her eyes, forcing her mind to a different time and place. It was back before her father had died fighting that fire. Back before she ever contemplated doing drops, where her biggest concern was how to sneak into bars with her big brother. But she kept getting shoved against the dirt and Bryce kept grunting in her ear. Reality was too hard to ignore. And in this reality, some Hawks and Mice had started a fire that killed her father. They had forced her into playing the same game that ended her world. And now, because of them… Bryce grunted louder than before and then it was over. Whatever had happened to her became irreversible. She could feel his heavy breaths on her neck and his sweat dripping onto her face. Her nails dug into the ground to fight back more tears. She wouldn’t give Bryce the pleasure of seeing her pain. But no amount of effort could stop the tears. Lissandra let loose a muffled scream. She brought her hand up and bit into her knuckle. The pain felt better. She tasted blood, so she bit harder. But no matter how much pain she felt, it wasn’t enough. God, no. “Don’t think it’s over Lissandra. I cleared my entire night for you.”

BOLT

Bolt jumped at the sound of another gunshot. His hands shot above his head and he twisted around. Nobody. No matter what. Unfortunately, his route involved going through the screams. Nothing good could come from screams like that. He tiptoed his way through the alley, heading for the market. Just a few turns left until he would hit the main roads, to where the screams had come from. His legs twitched as he prepared to sprint across. It would be a mad dash to the next alley and then he would be clear of those screams. “Don’t think it’s over yet Lissandra. I cleared my entire night for you.” Bolt peeked around the corner to see a girl crying on the ground. She had bitten into her own knuckles so hard that they were bleeding. On top of her was a bald tattooed man, running his hands along the length of her body. To their side was another man. Bolt couldn’t even tell if he was alive. “You ready?” the tattooed man asked. He laughed as she cringed away from him. Bolt turned away. He felt dirty just having seen it. I need to help her. But Bolt had seen how big the bald-headed man had been. A Hawk poised to catch his next prey. Bolt’s legs threatened to buckle with ever step. He didn’t even know if he had enough energy to finish the drop. No matter what. He reminded himself. If he went backwards, he could circle around and avoid the Hawk completely. Then, a slight whimper. At first, he thought he had misheard it, but every once in a while, it would come back. He heard it above the echoing gunshot and above the grunting of the Hawk. It was the girl. Bolt pushed himself out of the alley into the street, his knife unsheathed.

“Stop!” He screamed. Though he tried to sound tough, his voice tapered off at the end into a pleading tone. The bald Hawk jerked his head toward him. He threw the girl’s legs onto the ground, like he was discarding some worn out toy. He stood up to face Bolt. “What do you want?” “Let her go,” Bolt’s legs shook as he stepped toward them, just like his knife. “I don’t think I will. You’re a Mouse, aren’t you?” Bolt gulped as he inched his way forward. The closer he got, the more he shook. He had never gotten in a fight before, especially not one where his life would be at stake. “If you take another step forward, I’ll snap your neck, Mouse. I already sent one Mouse running, I can do the same for you.” Bolt froze. Behind him was a gunman, in front of him a Hawk. Both were just as eager to kill. Compared to them, the nickname ‘Mouse’ had never felt more appropriate. He glanced to his side, at the alleyway he had come out of. There’s a reason God gave me such speed. Bolt turned and fled back into the alley. And it was to run.

LISSANDRA If she wasn’t in so much pain, she would’ve seen the irony of so many people having failed to save her. She actually held some hope when the strange Mouse came from the alleys. But he had run away, taking what was left of her hope with him. How long has it been? She couldn’t tell. Her bloody knuckles were no longer in her mouth and her entire body felt numb. The only thing she could feel was the dirt rubbing against her back as she was shoved against it. Even her tears had dried. What did it matter? What happened to Lissandra no longer concerned her. It was like she was watching her own life play out through a screen. This girl being raped wasn’t her, it was some stranger living out her tragic life. A gunshot pierced the monotonous rhythm of Bryce’s grunts. He jumped off her, startled. Unlike the other gunshots, this one echoed through the nearby alleys. Bryce, for the first time, looked worried. Another gunshot. This time, close enough to flash through the alley. “Run!” A familiar face scrambled out of the alley. Lissandra watched as the same Mouse that had abandoned her now sprinted toward her, his feet a blur. A figure emerged behind him. A blank mask and green cloak. It held up a gun and pulled the trigger. The deafening crack shattered Lissandra’s apathy. It shoved her back into her body. Her pains and aches, all at once, screamed at her. The burning between her legs roared to life. She twisted her head to see that Bryce had already started running. “Fucking Mouse!” the gunman screamed, limping along. Several more bullets dug themselves into surrounding walls. Then the Mouse was above her. He looked at her with wild brown eyes. It took him both hands with his feet digging into the floor to haul her up. She stumbled up, somehow finding her balance. “Run.” The command came soft, almost as if he was begging.

Lissandra squeezed his hand and allowed herself to be dragged away. He ran in a bee-line for the nearest alley. As soon as they turned the corner, he shoved her into a pile of trash. “Stay.” His voice trembled more than his legs. Tears swelled in his eyes as a clear line of snot dripped down his chin. In that moment, Lissandra pictured Leon, when he was too scared to even cry. “Wait—” But before Lissandra could say more, bags of trash fell on top of her. “Be quiet.” The words came out unevenly. “Just –” He stopped to sniff up snot. “– stay alive.” Lissandra had thought that she had nothing left to cry with, but she found herself dripping with silent tears. “Thank you,” she muttered as the Mouse’s footsteps faded deeper into the alley.

BOLT There’s a reason God gave me so much speed. And it was to run. Truthfully, Bolt didn’t want to save that girl. He was scared, more scared than he had ever been in his entire life. The fear choked him, until it felt like he was back in that dusty cabin, sucking air through a hole in the wall. It wasn’t God that compelled him to run toward the gunshots. It wasn’t a sense of morality that made him toss his knife at the gunman. It was Sasha. She had told him that humans were the most powerful beings on Earth, that if there was truly something that had to be done, only humans could do it. It was this same pride that had forced her into saving him when they first met. And now, it was this same pride that forced Bolt to save this girl. His steps slowed. His turning wasn’t as sharp, his feet heavy. Behind him, the gunman’s footsteps grew louder. The wall beside him erupted in an explosion of debris. Bolt twisted his ringing ears away from the wall. His legs buckled and he fell, sliding to a stop. “You’re out of gas,” the gunman screamed, short of breath. “About damn time.” Bolt flipped himself onto his back just in time for a bullet to graze his cheek. He screamed and clenched his eyes shut. It felt like hot wax dripping across his face. He scrambled backwards into a wall. “It’s the end of the road, Mouse.” “Stop,” Bolt pleaded as the gunman approached him. Around him were numerous escape routes, but what did it matter if he couldn’t run? “I can’t fucking aim with this thing on.” The gunman took his mask off to reveal a set of dark brown eyes, placed too close together. Uneven patches of stubble littered his thin face. “Why are you doing this?” “I was chosen,” the gunman smiled a toothy smile, showcasing his missing teeth. “Lions were always meant to rule the jungle.”

“Lions?” The Lion shook his head and spat onto ground. “I never thought I’d see the day when Mice no longer recognized us.” Bolt dug into his pockets, tugging against the linen to retrieve the pills. He yanked it out and tossed it onto the ground. “Take it. That’s what you want right?” The Lion laughed and continued forward. His foot crushed the pills. “I’m not here for that. The Boss was very clear with what he wanted us to do.” Bolt shuddered as the cold metal of the gun pressed against his forehead. “This is our debut.” The Lion said. Bolt squeezed his eyes shut. He heard the metallic click of the trigger being pulled, then the ring of metal as the gun’s hammer struck down, and then nothing. “Pow.” Bolt opened his eyes. The Dragon stood just a few steps away, a revolver in his hand pointed to the back of the Lion’s head. The moon was like a spotlight, illuminating The Dragon’s pristine white suit. “Pow,” The Dragon said again as he fired his empty gun. “Pow. Pow. Pow.” With each pull of the trigger, the Lion twitched and jumped, as if performing some strange dance. “Don’t kill me,” the Lion’s voice shook. With a clatter, his gun fell onto the ground. The Dragon smiled. “Let me ask you something. Are humans defined by their moments of strength or weakness?” “What are you—” “Quiet. Well, Mouse?” “I don’t know.” “Is this man a proud Lion or is he a dancing monkey? And if I were to kill you, would I be remembered as your savior or your killer? Would you like to know the answer?” The Dragon slowly brought his gun to Bolt, its silver snub aimed at Bolt’s heart.

“It’s empty.” Bolt murmured. “Are you sure about that?” The Dragon pulled the trigger. Bolt clenched his eyes shut. He waited for the thunderous bang that would end his life, instead, it clicked. “We humans are remembered at our worst. Remember that if you ever wish to leave a legacy. Now run back home, boy, the adults have much to discuss.”

LILY I was named after a flower because I’m small and delicate… Lily’s body jolted back every time she pulled the trigger. Her arms ached from holding the gun up for so long. The shadows in front of her were too dark to see through. It was just a flicker in the darkness, but her entire body whipped in its direction. She fired, sending streaks of fire into the shadows. Only the wall was there to take her bullets. The moonlight dimmed. She jerked her neck upwards to see a single cloud obscuring the moon. Panic welled inside her throat. She wanted to scream and run until she collapsed. Her home, which seemed so wretched before, now appeared cozy next to the cold malevolence of these shadows. She longed for the warm dirt floor underneath the open sky, with the single fire to keep her warm, surrounded by the others without a home. The mask that had once fit so perfectly, now suffocated her. She ripped it off. Behind her was the slight scuttle of feet tiptoeing through the blackness. She twisted around, her finger twitching on the trigger. What am I doing? I’m a Lion. Lions were kings of the jungle. And this was the jungle. “Stop hiding you coward!” “Stop!” It was all she could manage before she choked on the rest. The breeze on her back disappeared. She stood unblinking. A small whimper escaped her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks. She froze in place, her gun pointed in the wrong direction. It was coming; the pain that would tell her it was all over. But the seconds stretched into minutes and still none came. Slowly, she let her burning arms fall limp. She had imagined it, all of it. Well, not all of it, she knew the corpse that she had seen was real, the corpse that looked like someone had run a person through a blender. But the part where she was being followed, she must have imagined.

Lily gave off a slight chuckle. She must’ve appeared insane, firing round after round into the walls around her, frozen in place for entire minutes. With a deep breath, she took a step forward and held still, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. Please, don’t be so paranoid. Already she was behind schedule. There was no time for childish fears. “Boo.” Lily’s feet flung to the sides and she crashed into the ground. Standing above her stood The Slasher. Everything about him was ugly, his skinny limbs were too long, his ears too big, and his eyes like black holes. And though she had never seen him before, she had heard stories of his existence. Her heel had been sliced open to the bone. The pain came in torrents. She clutched her leg with both hands and grunted from deep within her throat. The Slasher crawled on top of her, his nose inches away from her own. “Abel was the first man to ever die, do you think that God heard his screams?” With every word, his face contorted into a new emotion. Amusement. Hurt. Pain. It was all there. “Do you even think that fool even wants to hear us out? Or can? Maybe we’re the fools, pitifully screaming at a deaf man.” Lily pushed against the ground with her good foot. She didn’t move. “Personally, I believe that if we don’t try, we’ll never know. So how about it? Won’t you give it a try?” All Lily could do was cry. She let loose a long and pitiful wail. The Slasher shook his head. “No, no, no. If you want God to hear your screams… you must project!” He shoved his fingers into her mouth and pried her teeth apart. She gagged on his fingers, the metallic taste of blood still on his hands. His nails sliced into her gums. She swung her head away, but The Slasher hung on. “Scream!” The Slasher shrieked. “Let God hear you scream!” Lily did so, louder than she had ever done so before. Her body buckled forward with her scream. Louder and louder until it felt like her throat had caught fire. Each scream left her gasping for air, but she kept screaming, loud enough to awaken even God Himself.

VLAD Vlad left the crying Lion in a heap on the ground. She had yet to notice him get off her. Her screams had died. They were scratchy and would stop halfway through, but Vlad was satisfied. Not even Beethoven could compose the sonata she had given him. He looked up at where God supposedly resided. Did you hear that? She was screaming for you. He picked up the Lion’s mask and slipped it on. “You’re not at all how I imagined you. You’re so skinny it’s embarrassing.” Vlad turned to see Sasha bandaging the Lion’s ankle with a strip of her shirt. As soon as the blue cloth touched the wound, a dark blotch spread throughout it. Sasha’s arms trembled as she tied it as tight as she could. The Lion cried, her eyes still trained to the sky. “Sorry,” Sasha told her, “this is all I can do for now.” Vlad cocked his head. “And they say I’m crazy,” he said, making his voice deep and raspy. “You do know that’s the same Lion that will be hunting you tomorrow right?” “I didn’t come for a Lion, I came because a girl was screaming. Should I have just let her bleed out?” “Yes.” Vlad responded, surprised anyone would ask such an obvious question. “And what about you?” Sasha asked, her crimson eyes like lasers burning through his retinas. “Aren’t you dangerous?” Vlad shrugged. “I’ve always considered myself a friend of Mice.” “I don’t have friends that kill.” “What if I told you I am a Mouse?” Sasha’s response was immediate. “I wouldn’t believe you because Mice don’t kill. No Mouse would do what you do.” “I do the things that nobody will, so that nobody has to.”

Sasha advanced toward him, her steps firm. She had an expression as if smelling sewage. “So you’re a hero.” “I have never once harmed anyone that didn’t deserve it.” “That doesn’t make you a hero.” Sasha snapped back. Vlad shook his head. “There are only heroes in this world. It is God’s greatest running joke that we’re all pit against each other.” “Heroes don’t enjoy killing. That’s reserved for monsters.” “I don’t deny that I enjoy this, but we all have our guilty pleasures. At least my hobby keeps the streets safer for you.” Vlad took a step toward her, expecting her to back away. “If I’m a monster, what do you call the thieves, rapists, and killers you hold such sympathy for?” Sasha held her ground. “Nobody is born evil.” “And who are you to say that?” Vlad engulfed her in his shadow. “I would rather believe that we are all born evil and it is only through great effort that we overcome it. Doesn’t that make us sound so heroic?” “What evil have you overcome?” Sasha glanced at the knife twitching in his hand. “I have never once, and never will, harm anyone that doesn’t deserve to be harmed.” Vlad rested his gaze on her quivering lips. “And it isn’t because I can’t.” “Maybe you just shouldn’t harm anyone in general.” “And let the world do as it pleases? I refuse. No matter what it costs me, I will not let God alone dictate the fate of the helpless. I promise you, there are many more that are grateful for the deeds I have done, than those grateful for the deeds you have not.” “Like anyone will ever be grateful toward you.” Sasha growled. “You use the helpless as your excuse. If I was to guess, I’d say you’re rather happy that this place is so fucked up. Helping those in need? Reaching God? What a joke. You’d find any excuse to do this. “And I would!” Vlad announced with his hands open to the sky. “I love it. But just because there are those that deserve me does not make my crusade any less deserving. I will kill them all, slowly, swiftly, painfully, silently, loudly, all of them, and everyone! So, Mouse, will you be the one to stop me?”

Vlad reached out his knife and flipped it so that he was holding the blade. “Will you dirty yourself to save the trash of this city?” Sasha’s eyes never once wandered away from his own. “Don’t lump me in with you. I’m a Mouse.” “Then what if I was to attack you? Would it be excuse enough to abandon your morality?” Vlad flipped the knife in his hand so that its tipped pointed straight toward her heart. “You won’t hurt me,” Sasha said, pursing her lips together. “Is it because deep down I’m such a good guy? I promise you I’m not.” “Then do it.” Vlad froze, he had seen this look before. Few people could pull it off, but Sasha had it down to a science. It was a look of absolute certainty, a blind overconfidence that put even the most egotistical men to shame. Vlad brought up his blade, angling it toward the scar across her eye. “Why don’t you run?” He muttered. “Why don’t you?” Sasha snarled back. This is love. Vlad hovered the blade over Sasha’s eye, his fingers trembling with excitement. His lips curled into a grin. “Beautiful.” Sasha stood completely still. “Are you done? I can’t afford to waste more time with you.” Vlad brought the knife down. He left, talking as he did. “You truly are beautiful, Sasha.” “Wait! How do you know my name?” She called after him. But he had already cut into an alley and disappeared.

FLOWER Flower gnawed on the joint of her thumb. Her eyes bounced back and forth from the entrance of their home to the medical supplies laid out behind her. Next to the supplies was a worn book, opened to a diagram of a bullet wound. She paced back and forth. “Ouch.” Flower released her thumb from her teeth. She inspected it to see two puncture wounds. “To perform surgery, make sure your hands are steady.” Flower frowned, watching her hand trembling in front of her. With surgery, any slight mistake could kill a person. And then, she would be the one to end their lives. Her eyes glossed over the knife lying in a pool of liquor, hoping that moonshine disinfected as well as rubbing alcohol. A soft patter of footsteps sounded down the alley. Though it was barely audible, Flower jumped. Her mind jumped to a picture of Bolt, a hole through his chest, his face twisted in agony. He would cry out to her, begging her to save him, and she would just stand frozen, watching his life slowly drain. She grabbed her shaking hand. Stop. She squeezed so hard her knuckles turned white. But that only made the shaking worse. It was all the proof she needed. She would fail. She clasped her hands together and fell onto her knees. “God, I know I don’t really talk to you much, and most of the time, I don’t even think you exist. But right now, I need you. Please protect my family. Please be out there. Please hear me.” “He won’t.” Flower gasped and twisted toward the voice to see Maverick under the dim lighting of the moon. “Holy shit Mav. I thought that—” Before she could finish her sentence, her crying overwhelmed her. She broke down, hugging herself as her body quaked. “I’m so sorry Flower, I didn’t mean it like that.” Maverick placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Why are you here? Do you know anything about the others?”

Maverick shook his head. “I can’t do this.” Flower leaned over into Maverick’s embrace. “What am I supposed to do?” “You don’t have to do anything, you should get some rest.” “But if something happens, how am I—” “Flower, nothing bad will happen. I’ll stay up for you.” Maverick took her hand and helped her up. “Let’s just get you to bed.” Flower let herself be pulled up. She took small steps toward her tent, feeling lighter with every step. Her breathing became easier and her hands stopped shaking. What am I doing? Flower yanked her hand out of Maverick’s grip. “No,” she told the surprised Maverick. “Flower?” She turned back, the weight returning to her feet. It once again felt like she was breathing syrup, but she stayed the course. “Turn on the lamp, I’ll need the fire. Also, start tearing some more bandages from my clothes.” “What are you talking about? Flower, get a grip.” Flower turned. “Mav, this is me getting a grip. If you’re right, and God doesn’t hear me, then I’m all you guys got. Now tear the damn bandages.” She scanned the book, memorizing every word and picture. The most important factor in treating a gunshot wound was time, and she certainly couldn’t be wasting it reading. “Caring for shock… disinfecting the wound… stopping the bleeding… sealing the wound…” Every section came with its own list of materials, materials that she didn’t have. Nothing she could do about it now. Antiseptic powder became a combination of moonshine and antibiotics. The scalpel became her knife, its tip already charred black. “Alright, I finished.” Maverick said.

“Good, I want you to get my blankets and lay it on the ground.” “Flower,” Maverick came up to her, giving her a hard look. “Do you know what you’re doing?” “I won’t do anything stupid. I know I’m not a doctor.” Maverick nodded. “Alright, I’ll get your blankets then.” He made no move. “You know I have to ask, are you sure about this?” “In the words of Sasha, who the hell do you think I am?”

MAVERICK Bolt was the first to come back. He plopped down in front of Flower as if his body weighed too much for his legs. “Bolt, tell me where it hurts. Maverick, get me the bandages and bring me the knife! Also get the lantern, I need light.” Flower’s voice held an edge of panic, but her hands were steady. Her grassy eyes never wavered off Bolt. Maverick did as he was told. He watched Flower in amazement. Her hands glazed over Bolt’s bleeding cheek. Bolt winced away from her touch, but she grabbed his neck, holding him steady. It was hard to believe that she was in tears only a moment earlier. “Hold him steady Maverick, I’m going to disinfect the cut.” Maverick couldn’t help but be impressed. Sometimes it was hard to tell but she was still just a child, the youngest of them all. Bolt slapped Flower’s hand away from him. “Bolt, what’s wrong?” He shot his hands into his pockets. When they came back out, so did a plastic bag of crushed pills. It fell onto the ground, the gelatin pills simply yellow liquid collecting on the edges of the bag. Maverick’s stomach dropped. Of course, he had known this would happen since the first gunshot. Still, seeing the crushed pills made their failure a reality. “Bolt,” Flower’s voice softened. “Look, there was nothing anyone could do.” Bolt shook his head in small twitches. “Nothing I could do.” “There were men with guns, Bolt.” Flower offered him a slight smile. “Nobody expected us to succeed. Even Mav came back.” But Bolt refused her. “Do you think that matters?” he screamed. “I lost us the drop! I failed our last one!” His breaths came in an erratic rhythm. Every breath deeper than the last, every movement a little more out of control. He was practically hyperventilating. “Bolt,” Maverick said. “You need to calm down.”

Bolt shook his head again, this time, he swung his head from side to side. “Don’t you get it? We’re done. We lost. Nothing we’ve done matters after tonight. And it’s because of me!” Bolt’s voice bounced off the walls of their home, each time like an accusation thrown back at him. “Bolt, you’re bleeding pretty badly. Please, just let me take a look at you.” Flower pleaded. But she might as well have been speaking a foreign language. Bolt grabbed his head like he was trying to crush it. He broke into convulsions, his body doing a weird dance of sporadic twitches. His eyes closed and he hit the ground. “Bolt!” Maverick turned toward Flower, but she was already half way to Bolt. “Maverick,” Flower snapped. “Game face, get me a pillow.” Maverick barely heard her. He just stared at Bolt shaking on the ground. What’s happening to him? “Maverick!” Two fingers snapped inches from his face. Behind those fingers were Flower, her emerald eyes calm and unwavering. “It’s a seizure, probably from panic,” she said. “He’ll live. Now get me a damn pillow.”

SASHA The morning came fast, it seemed that as soon as Sasha closed her eyes, bright rays of sunlight glared into them. She scanned the other tents. Flower and Maverick were sound asleep, but Bolt and Prince were missing. Not good. Flower had told her about what happened with Bolt and she had witnessed Prince’s condition firsthand. She had found him dumped on top of a pile of garbage. Bloody bits of skin hung off his cheek. After being unable to wake him, she had carried him home on her back. He had barely awoken when Flower had cleaned and bandaged his wound. Flower had assured her that he would be fine, but Sasha had never seen him so limp. If not for Flower, she would’ve fallen asleep outside of Prince’s tent. Sasha sighed and stood up to stretch. She walked over to inspect Prince’s tent, sneaking a foot in to feel the sheets on the ground. Cold. It’s Sunday so Bolt’s probably in church, but Prince… “I know where you are,” she muttered to nobody in particular. There was only one place Prince went when he wanted to be alone. She walked to the river. “I thought I would find you here,” Sasha said, approaching the silent Prince. His eyes were downcast, unresponsive to her greeting. “Having fun watching dirt?” Prince pulled his head up from between his knees, the bandage on his cheek a stale maroon color. He returned his attention to the ground. “Is dirt really that interesting?” Sasha asked. She took a seat next to him. “I’m just thinking.” Though Prince responded to her, it didn’t seem that the words were directed at her. It was as if he was talking to the ground and she just happened to have heard him. “About the drop?” Sasha waited for a response, but none came. “No.” “Then what are you thinking about?” Silence. Sasha turned her gaze to the murky river. She half-expected crickets to start chirping.

“Flower said that your face is probably going to scar.” Sasha finally said. “But it won’t be that bad and who knows, maybe it’ll give your face some character.” She received no response. Sasha made a weak attempt at a smile. “Sorry, I guess I’m not that funny.” “Why’d you do it?” Prince asked, his voice serious. “I’m just trying to brighten the mood.” “I’m not talking about your joke, I mean why’d you cut your eye at Hawk’s Lair?” “Uh…” Sasha wasn’t sure whether she wanted to answer the question, but it didn’t seem like she had much of a choice. She took a deep breath. “Well, I guess it’s because I had to.” “You almost dug your eye out.” Prince finally turned to look at her, but it was a hollow victory. His icy stare held more anger in it than anything else. Sasha shrugged and looked away. It felt like she was being interrogated. “It was all I could do at the time.” “But how did you know it would work?” Prince grabbed Sasha’s arm and turned her toward him. He grew louder with every word. “What if you went through all of that and only accomplished blinding yourself?” “I guess I just didn’t think about that at the time.” Prince kept quiet, mulling over Sasha’s words. When at last he was ready to speak, his speech came out in cold deliberation. “You made the wrong choice. No matter how you look at it, you were wrong. If it was anyone else, they would’ve probably just gotten themselves killed. Why’d you even go?” “So I could hold this over your head for the rest of your life.” Prince didn’t share her humor. “Sasha, I’m serious.” Sasha let out an exasperated breath. “When Mav told me about what happened, how could you expect me to just leave you at Hawk’s Lair? You’ve known me for a long time now, none of this should’ve come as a surprise.”

Prince released Sasha’s arm. The silence crept back between them, like a stone wall separating them. This time, Prince was the one to break it down. “Would you have done that for a stranger? What if it was a girl you’ve never met in your life?” “I don’t know.” Prince’s head fell back between his knees. “You don’t know,” he muttered as if hearing some sick joke. “Prince, what happened?” Sasha placed a timid hand on Prince’s shoulder. Prince shrugged it off. “I couldn’t do a fucking thing, that’s what happened! I tried getting stronger, but I’m still so god damn weak. I couldn’t save her.” “Who, Prince?” “The girl, the Mouse. She was being…” Prince’s voice trailed off into silence. “Prince,” Sasha lifted her arm to give him a hug, but decided against it. She settled for placing her hand on his shoulder instead. “Most people would’ve just let her be, but you tried to help. You at least made the effort.” “Do you think my goodwill stopped the Hawk? You think the girl cared that I at least made the fucking effort?” Prince tossed Sasha’s hand of his shoulder. “Don’t fucking patronize me!” Prince slammed his fist into the ground, beating the shrubbery in front of him. “It’s not fucking fair!” “Look, Prince –” “Don’t you dare say anything.” He turned, his gaze hot enough to melt ice. “You save everyone, Sasha. So why can’t I save a single god damn person? What’s wrong with me?” Sasha shook her head. “What do you want me to say, Prince?” Prince bit his lip and looked away. Finally, he responded with a meek, “Nothing.” “Do you remember when we first met? You were angry back then too. You even looked at me the same way you’re looking at me now. You attacked me whenever I tried getting near you. Do you know why I kept coming back?” Sasha straightened her hand and showed its back to Prince. “It was your fingernails. There was clots of mud in them, and most were broken and bleeding. You dug your mom’s grave with your hands.” “What’s your point?”

“I remember thinking: I wish I had resolve like that. I was jealous of how strong you were. You’re still the same person. You’re strong, Prince.” “Not strong enough.” “Prince, I’m an idiot, so I can afford to do stupid shit. But not you. You’re way too smart to act like I do.” “Stop.” Prince whispered. “What was that?” “I said stop.” His voice came resolute. “Stop with this outlandish bullshit. You always act like there’s something about me that nobody can see but you. If I’m so special, how come I lose so god damn always?” He pounded against his chest. “Guess what, this is all I am!” “Are you mad at me?” Prince stood and faced her, his face twisted with anger. “You make it look so damn easy, it probably is that easy to you. And when people ask how you do it, you just say it’s who you are. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sasha couldn’t even get a word in. “And then you come in here spewing your bullshit, pretending that we can all be great, that we can do whatever we put our minds to it. Even you have to know that that’s a complete load of shit.” By the time he had finished, he was looming over Sasha, his breaths heavy and deep. “Are you done yet?” Sasha asked looking up at him. “Look Prince, you want the truth, so here it is. No matter how hard you work, or how strong you become, you’ll never catch up to me. You can try to be like me if you want, but an imitation will never be better than the real thing. So don’t get mad at me because I’m a better me than you are.” Prince stared in cold fury. Sasha returned a gentle gaze. “I’m not sure if anything would’ve changed if I had been the one to try and save that girl, but it doesn’t matter. Stop running after me, Prince.” She whispered. “You shine in your own way.”

PRINCE Prince watched Sasha’s brown hair sway back and forth in the distance. As soon as it disappeared, he shouted, “Fuck!” She’s right. “Shit!” Grabbing a rock, he lunged forward and threw it into the river. It splashed up once before being swallowed whole in the murky waters. Prince threw rock after rock into the river, but his anger did not secede him. When all the rocks around him had disappeared, he began looking for something else to throw or break. Unfortunately, besides the shrubbery around him, there was only dirt. Prince stomped the shrubs. They scratched his feet but he didn’t care. I need something to break. The single thought gave him purpose. He continued to the next patch of shrubs and destroyed them. Soon, there were no more shrubs left. Prince turned his attention to the grass and jabbed his fingers under their roots and pulled. He continued in this manner for entire minutes, furiously savaging whatever he could find on the ground. Prince twisted around, looking for the next patch of grass. From the corner of his eyes, he saw a glint of red. “Yo,” Sasha said with a mischievous smile. She stood behind him, watching. He blinked twice to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, but the image remained. “…” Prince couldn’t form words. He grit his teeth, his embarrassment quickly turning to anger. A low growl escaped his throat. It took only a single step, but that was the step that set Prince off. As soon as Sasha stepped toward him, he roared and lunged at her. To his surprise, she lowered her shoulder and came straight for him. Prince’s forehead slammed into her shoulder and his neck cocked back. They tumbled into the ground, Sasha on top of Prince. Prince lashed out with his hands in a wild strike. Sasha caught his wrists and wrestled them down with the weight of her body. Perhaps it was because he was still exhausted from the previous night, but he couldn’t overpower her.

“Prince,” Sasha said, a gentleness in her voice. Prince closed his eyes, preparing for the blow. He felt it on his lips, but it was soft. He opened his eyes to find Sasha’s face just a few inches away from his, her lips on his. And then it was over. She released his arms, and straightened her back, still sitting on him. Prince remained on the ground, gaping at her. His heart pounded, each beat like a sledgehammer to his chest. Every thought that ran through his head felt like a train wreck, colliding together in jumbled chaos. But he was smiling. “You’re a liar, Prince.” Her voice was as light as a feather. “What?” Prince was barely able to get the word of his mouth. “This isn’t all you are. Both of us know that.” Sasha leaned in for another kiss. “Sasha,” Prince said as he grabbed the nape of her neck and pulled her in. Her lips brought a sort of electricity with it, wiping his mind of everything. She broke off the kiss, pushing herself up with his chest. “It feels like you’re about to have a heart attack.” Prince smiled back, not bothering with clever responses. He strained his eyes staring at Sasha’s face trying to discern her expression. The sun shone directly above her, hiding everything. It burned his retinas, but he ignored their cries. She leaned toward him, her gentle crimson eyes staring into his. She rested her forehead on his and closed her eyes, a small smile spread across her face. “I love you Sasha.” Prince hadn’t meant to say it, but it came out of his mouth nonetheless. Sasha remained still and silent. Each second that passed became another lump in Prince’s stomach. He watched her, too scared to do more. At last, she leaned off Prince to stand up. Prince snatched her hand. “Sasha, say something. Please.” Sasha gave him a weary smile as she slipped her hand out of Prince’s grip. “Prince, one day I’ll say that back to you.” What does that mean?

“But—” Prince started but a sharp glance from Sasha cut him off. She paused in thought. Prince had never seen her so careful about what came out of her mouth. “I’ll say it when I can give you, and the rest of our family everything that I want to give to you guys. Then I’ll say those words to you. You and only you. If I said it now, I’m scared I’ll drop everything for it.” “But we’re done,” Prince said, and somehow, the words brought him relief. “It’s over. We’re no longer Mice.” Sasha smiled and stood. “We’re not done until I take you guys to Paris. I’ll head back first. You should come home, Prince.” Before Prince could respond, she left. Prince, for the second time in just a few minutes, watched her hair sway back and forth.

LISSANDRA Lissandra awoke in a daze. She shielded her eyes from the sun’s brutal assault, its rays like lances. Grumbling, she rolled out of the trash. Her hair stuck together, held by some vile goo. She groaned as she combed her fingers through her hair. Her head pounded, pulsating every time her heart beat. Her chin hurt even worse. But the worst was the burning sensation between her legs. Though the pain wasn’t great, it brought with it an incredible sense of shame, the kind that told her she belonged back in the trash. “Are you okay?” Lissandra turned, her eyes still unused to the light. “It’s you,” she gasped. In front of her was the Mouse that had saved her. His hazel eyes looked different when under the sun and not clouded by tears. “I’m Bolt,” the Mouse said. He held out a hand to help her up. “What’s your name?” She gave his hand a long look before pulling herself up with the edges of the wall. “I’m fine.” Bolt looked confused. “Umm, okay. Where are you going?” “Home.” Every step sent jitters up her legs. “Why are you here?” “I was on my way to church.” “There’s no church around here.” “I took a detour.” He was a terrible liar. “Are you sure you don’t need help?” She ignored him. It would be easy to just take his hand, to let him lead her away again, but her crying muscles provided too sweet a distraction. Without it, she wasn’t sure if she’d be strong enough to make it back home. “Look, you don’t have to be stubborn,” Bolt hovered his hand over her shoulder. Lissandra could see genuine worry in his eyes. She slapped his hand away with a snarl. “Don’t touch me.” “Sorry.”

She continued on her way, struggling through the alley at a snail’s pace. Every few steps, she would stop to rest. Bolt followed close behind her silently. At last, Lissandra made it to the end of the alley, its mouth opening up to reveal the open dirt street. The traffic was light. After all, it was only noon. She took a deep breath before letting go of the wall. The first step was hard, but not impossible. She stopped for a few seconds to test her balance. With a small mile, she took another. This one crumbled underneath her. With a yelp, she toppled over. “Are you okay?” Lissandra looked up from the ground to see a hand in front of her face. Since she had met this Mouse, his hand had always been there. The world seemed incredibly distant, Bolt’s voice sounded like an echo, and once again, she felt as if she was watching her own life playing out on a TV screen. “You need help,” Bolt’s voice stretched. Lissandra staggered up. As expected, her legs gave out once again. I can’t do this. She closed her eyes, prepared to hit the ground. Instead, she felt two arms wrap around her stomach, struggling to support her. “Don’t worry, I got you.” Bolt said. Lissandra wanted to melt into his embrace, to lay her head down and let him carry her home. But she knew she couldn’t. Leon needed a strong sister and only the most resilient girl could disobey Gunther. And even if she had been robbed of all her dignity, she still held some pride. It was the only thing she had left. She yanked away Bolt’s hands and pushed off him. He fell backwards and she fell forward. They both hit the ground with a thud. Sorry, Bolt. Nobody could expect him to understand her. From his perspective, she probably seemed like an utter bitch. But she didn’t have the strength to explain herself or apologize. It would take her everything she had to make it home. She grabbed the dirt in front of her and clawed herself forward one more inch.

FLOWER This is a dream. Flower knew. She had always known, but it wasn’t wrong to enjoy this fiction. “Can we go back home?” she whined and tugged on a rough and rugged hand. “Ariel, stop whining so much.” A voice said, one that matched the roughness of the hand. But there was a familiarity that came with it, one that felt warm. “We’ll go home soon.” “But dad, I’m tired!” And it was true, her entire body ached. Flower stomped her feet on the ground, dragging them like anchors. “Ariel,” her father sighed, “Just one more thing, I promise you.” “You said that ten minutes ago!” Flower looked at the retreating sun behind him. “I’m too tired to walk.” “Aren’t we a little too old for this game?” Though there was annoyance in his voice, his mouth split into an open smile. Flower crossed her arms and shrugged. “Arghh,” her father roared and in a sweeping motion, he flung her onto his shoulders. “Where to, princess?” Flower giggled so hard she almost fell off his shoulders. But she knew if she was to fall, her father would catch her. “That way,” Flower pointed behind her. “Giddyup! Back home!” Much to Flower’s amusement, her father spun as fast as he could. “Wrong way!” Flower complained happily as they walked toward the sun. “I may be your trusty steed, but you forgot to train me!” Her father yelled. “Haha!” He spun around, wildly dancing to the sound of Flower’s laughter. When the dancing stopped, Flower intertwined her arms onto her father’s head. She rested her face into the nest she had created. To her surprise, she couldn’t feel his hair. Then she remembered why. “This is a dream,” Flower whispered into her father’s hair.

Her father didn’t answer. “I’m not really with you and as soon as I wake up, you’ll be gone again.” She choked on the words. Tears came to her eyes. “I bet I’ll wake up any second now, and when do, I won’t even remember this. I can’t even remember what your hair felt like.” She ran her fingers through his hair. Nothing. “Don’t cry, Ariel.” Her father said, but his voice came out broken, for he was crying too. “Daddy, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I didn’t know how.” “No, Ariel. You were just a little girl, you still are. It’s okay to be a little girl. While I’m still here, I just want to tell you—” “Flower!” Flower jerked awake. “Flower!” Maverick yelled again and then appeared before her, outside her tent. “Did Sasha get—” He stopped and stared. “What?” Flower asked. “You’re crying.” His answer surprised her. Flower brought her hands to her cheeks. It was true. Flower tried thinking back to what could’ve caused these tears, but she couldn’t recall. Somehow, this made her feel even worse. Her eyes swelled with more tears. “I don’t know,” she responded. “Is everything alright?” Maverick asked. “Is this about… you know, last night?” Flower shook her head. “I must’ve had a bad dream or something. I’ll get over it.” She wiped away the tears. Crying over nothing was only something little girls did. “Are you sure everything’s okay?” Maverick spoke like he was afraid of startling her. He had gone to sleep shortly after Bolt’s seizure. Though Flower had promised to wake him up when Sasha or Prince returned, she decided against it when it happened. “Yeah, Sasha came back carrying Prince.” Flower answered. “He’s fine,” she added on, seeing Maverick’s expression change. “But there were a few scares. He only woke up long enough to tell us about some Hawk named Bryce, whoever the hell that is.”

“Did you say Bryce?” Maverick asked, a little too quickly. “Yeah, do you know him?” “No.” His answer was too quick once again. Flower looked him hard in the eyes, as if she could pick his lies apart with only that stare. “How do you know him?” “I probably just heard the name on TV or something.” Maverick said effortlessly. More lies. None of them liked talking about their time before Sasha but Maverick did so with near religious zeal. Flower didn’t even know his pre-Sasha name. She crossed her arms and stared at Maverick.

MAVERICK “Someone from your dark and mysterious past?” Flower joked. She had been making jokes like this for the past ten minutes. Neither were ready for an actual conversation because there was only one serious topic to talk about. However, this topic wasn’t much better. “No way.” Maverick laughed. “My past isn’t that exciting.” Flower’s lips twisted into a small pout. “I wouldn’t know.” “It’s just not worth talking about.” Maverick turned, finally catching a break in the conversation. “I’ll go to the market to buy us lunch.” He left before Flower could pester him further. Only Sasha knew about his past and at times, he regretted even that. What are you doing? Maverick punched himself in the leg. He couldn’t believe how loose his tongue had been. It was unusual for him to lack so much poise. He shook his head. Poise was a necessity, especially for where he was about to go. Maverick stopped in front of a large stone building shaped like a cube. Except for the cracks jolting through the grey walls and the windows that looked like they had been made with a sledgehammer, the building was plain. It held a single wooden door. There was no handle, only a hole where the handle once was. Maverick pushed the door open, watching termites scramble away. The building housed an equally unimpressive room. The floors were cement. The musk of blood and sweat resonated off it. Maverick pursed his lips, nearly able to taste the blood in the air. The room had not changed at all. The bar at the end of the room was still made of broken wood and the water that came out of its faucet was stained brown, just as he remembered. The rest of the room was devoid of furniture. Two crowds of people huddled into circles. They each took up half of the room. Maverick ignored the silent crowds as they did him. The silence was new. Back when he had fought here, the crowds were always on the edge of rioting. They hurled insults at him, spat on him, and cheered him on. But now, the only sound in the room came from the

people stationed at the bar and the smacking of skin against cement. Every now and then, there would be a grunt followed by a howl of pain. Curious, Maverick peeked through one of the crowds. There were two boys in the middle. They were much older than he thought they’d be, both already in their teens and both already bloodied. One was on top the other. The one on top swung his bleeding knuckles into the other boy’s face. Every swing brought with it a jet of blood. I wonder if they’ll let the boy live. Maverick knew all too well the punishment for going limp, it was what drove them to fight so hard. Slowly, the boy on the ground’s eyes started rolling back, just a little at a time until they were completely white. His head fell to its side, blood still dripping out of his mouth. Maverick shook his head, back in his day, any boy would’ve lasted minutes longer. Much to his surprise, the other boy got up. Maverick gaped at the crowd as they parted ways to let the victor through. Nobody in the crowd raged or screamed, instead, they clapped. It had only been a few years, but everything had changed. “Holy hell, guess who finally decided to show up?” Someone called out from the bar. “This place has gone to shit since we fought here.” Maverick turned to see a bald head and its twisting tattoo. “Bryce.” He walked to the bar and with a single gesture, ordered the specialty drink. “Back when we were in the rings, we were fucking gladiators.” Bryce sucked in his snot and spit onto the ground. “Now look at these kids. They’re insects!” he threw his head back and finished the murky concoction in his glass. With drunken sway, he threw the glass at the unconscious boy on the ground. The crowd ducked out of the way. The glass shattered by the boy, just barely missing his face. “Hey!” the bartender snapped, clearly out of patience. “One more violation and you’re out.” Bryce turned with even less patience. “Do you see my fucking tattoo? I was born in this place. You can’t kick me out of my home.” The bartender looked on helplessly. Maverick could see the fear in his eyes, Bryce probably had a reputation. Maverick waved his hand between them, “I’ll take care of this,” he told the bartender. With a single nod, he turned toward Bryce.

“How about we enter the pits? Finally settle which one of us is stronger.” Bryce slurred. “I don’t do that anymore.” “C’mon!” “No.” Maverick said firmly. Bryce recoiled away from the words like they were knives. “Why?” Maverick shrugged, “it’s in the past.” “Shit!” Bryce swiped Maverick’s drink off the bar. It disintegrated with the blow. The destruction seemed to calm him down. “I never thought I’d see the day that the Crushin’ Russian wouldn’t enter the pits.” “I go by Maverick now.” “You even changed your name? What the hell happened to you?” “I became a Mouse.” This shut Bryce up. He gave Maverick a strange look, as if trying to solve some sort of puzzle. With a small shake of his, he turned back to the bartender. “Another,” he commanded. Without turning his head, he said, “you got rid of your name, your job, and your title. Why are you even here?”

BRYCE A jabbing pain pulsed through Bryce’s stomach. Each wave of pain was accompanied by equally strong nausea. But Bryce kept drinking what tasted like sewage. “Did you get all that?” Bryce lazily turned his head at the man he once admired. “No.” “I was saying…” Bryce ignored the rest, opting to focus the entirety of his efforts on keeping his drink down. Each drink felt like a one-two blow, the first came in a stinging bitterness, and the second a ghastly aftertaste. The more Maverick talked, the more Bryce drank. “Hey, are you listening to me?” Maverick tapped him on the shoulder. Each tap only served to remind Bryce of how soft this man had become. He was once a warrior, the most vicious of them all. They would laugh in the face of pain and delight in their own screams. But the man behind him was no warrior, he was a Mouse. Bryce waved his hand. “Yeah, sure.” He reached down to finish his drink and grasped air. He looked sideways to see the drink in Maverick’s hand. Much to the bartender’s dismay, Maverick spilled the drink out. “You better be listening because I’m saying this only one more time.” His voice changed into something resembling a growl. “There are four people in this world that you will not touch, Sasha, Bolt, Prince, and Flower. If I ever hear your name again, Hawk, I’ll tear your feathers out one by one until you beg me to end you.” It took a moment for Bryce to realize that this was the same person. This wasn’t the Crushin’ Russian, nor was it Maverick. This person was a completely different creature, its icy disposition almost inhuman. A smile crept onto Bryce’s lips. “You’re wrong about one thing, I’m not a Hawk.” “I don’t give a damn what you are.” Bryce spun off his chair, his feet landing softly on the ground. “Hawks are a dying breed.” He stood tall, looking down on Maverick. “And so are Mice. This place is about to go

up in flames and only warriors will leave unscathed. I’m curious to see if you make it out alive.” Maverick glared back, his eyes like black holes. “We were never thrown in the ring together, but everyone knew how it would’ve turned out. You don’t want to find out if they were right.” “I wonder about that now. The old you was a monster and I know he’s still in there somewhere. But he might be buried too deep to save you in time.” Bryce took a few paces away from Maverick only to turn with his arms spread as if hugging the air. “The Crushin’ Russian versus Bryce the Brawler! Wouldn’t that be a fight to remember? Now who was it that I wasn’t supposed to touch?” “You’re about to make a very grave mistake.” Maverick’s hands curled into fists. Bryce was sure those fists still felt like iron. Years of bruises and blood could not be cast away as easily as a name. “Bolt, Flower, Prince, Sasha.” Bryce said each name slowly as if playing with the words. “I’ve heard some of those before. Ah yes, I met Prince the other day. Pitiful kid, he thinks he can be a hero. And I believe he also mentioned your Sasha. I’ve heard so much about this red-eyed Mouse. I should really meet her.” The fist came fast. It was a left-handed hook straight to the stomach, just as he had seen so many times before. His wall of muscle might as well have been made of feathers. Bryce fell on one knee and clutched his stomach. He clenched his throat shut, but too late. Sour drainage leaked out. Before he even finished puking, he yanked his head to the side, feeling a second fist just barely graze his temple. The Crushin’ Russian’s favorite combo was enough to end most fights. But Maverick was not as fast as the Crushin’ Russian. Before Maverick could regain his balance, Bryce pulled out his knife and brought its tip to Maverick’s throat. His heart felt like a ticking time bomb about to blow. The knife trembled just centimeters away from flesh. “Too slow.” He said. Finally! This was how it felt like to fight in the pits. It was a feeling he had nearly forgotten. Drugs and alcohol served as a poor replacement for his addiction.

“God, how I hate knives.” Bryce exclaimed. “In the pits, we were only given our fists and whatever rock or stick we could get our hands on. And we killed each other just fine. I bet you’re the type to use a knife now. Am I right?” Maverick strained his neck away from Bryce’s knife. “You’re the one with the knife right now.” In a single motion, Bryce twisted the knife away, back into his pocket. “Warriors fight with their fists. Don’t worry, if I find your friends, I’ll fight them the right way.” “You think I’d let you just walk away?” “You’re too weak.” Bryce stood up and walked away laughing. “What can you possibly do?”

JAKE Jake awoke to a sharp nip in his arm. “What the fuck?” he screamed. He yanked his arm up and a syringe flew across the room. It shattered against the wall. “Did you just—” “It’ll help with the pain.” Number One said. He slid his hand over the ground until he found another syringe, this one half full. Jake swung his leg and kicked Number One in the stomach. His back flared with pain until tears came to his eyes. He was sure the kick hurt him more than Number One. “Get the fuck away from me. I won’t be a fucking Sticker.” He said, already out of breath. Number One folded in two and dropped the syringe. He staggered backwards and fell. “Bryce said—” Number Two said approaching him. “Get away from me!” Jake screamed. His scream cut into a low gurgle as his back flared up again. Both Number One and Number Two were in the t-shirts they had worn the previous week. The musk of dirt and sweat clung to their bodies, filling the entire house with its stench. Stickers always smelled the same. “I’d sooner blow my brains out than become like you two.” Jake said. The door clicked and opened. Jake squinted. The strip of sunlight from the door was like staring into headlights. Soon enough, the door closed and Bryce walked in with a brown bag in his hands. More orders from The Boss. “Thank God,” Jake had never been happier to see Bryce. “Bryce, get these fuckers away from me. Help me out, man.” Bryce ignored Jake’s plea and took a seat at their table. He ripped open the brown bag. “You should listen to them,” Bryce told Jake. “Those are the best painkillers in this city.” “What?” Jake had no words. “You can’t be serious. I’m not a Sticker.” “Why not?” Bryce asked while sifting through the bag.

“Because I don’t want to melt my god damn brain.” Jake exclaimed. “I’m not going to just sit in a corner all day with a needle in my arm while I piss myself into an early grave. It’s pathetic!” “Well, I think getting beaten by a little girl is pathetic as well.” Jake’s mouth dropped. He had never heard this tone out of Bryce. “Hey!” he snapped. “Watch what you’re saying! Look, just tell Number One and Two to get the fuck away from me.” “I don’t think I will.” Bryce answered. “What are you talking about?” Bryce finally looked over. His eyes were cold and unfamiliar. “You’re now as useless as our Stickers. The only difference between you guys is that you’re fucking loud. It’s annoying.” “Bryce…” Jake’s voice slipped away from him. “What are you talking about? We’re friends!” Bryce sighed and shook his head. “Number One, Number Two, give him enough to shut him up.” Number One gave Jake a sheepish look. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Wait!” Jake screamed as Number One and Two set upon him. Jake fought them as best he could. He fought through his back shrieking at him to stop moving. He fought through his splitting headache, begging for him to go to sleep. “You son of a bitch!” Jake felt the first needle go into his arm. “Fuck!” he yelled. The second needle was a mosquito bite to his leg. “Stop! Don’t!” Tears fell from his cheek. “Bryce, stop them!” His head felt light and all at once, his back stopped hurting. Even his splitting headache died down and with it, so did his anger. Jake’s body numbed and his limbs fell. “No,” he muttered as his head drifted to the side. As he drifted to sleep, his body was filled with the most wonderful feeling in the world.

PRINCE Prince spent hours kicking pebbles into the river. The past few minutes didn’t seem real. He looked over his shoulder once again, hoping to see Sasha on the horizon. This time, he wouldn’t be so angry. But he knew that she had gone back, he also knew she was expecting him. But being here made the past few minutes all the more real. Leaving would turn it into just another memory. She had to leave first, if we walked back together, people might get suspicious. He nodded his head in agreement and stopped, realizing how stupid that was. They had walked back together multiple times before and this was never a worry for either of them. But it was different now. Prince wondered if it would always be different. When there were no more rocks to kick, Prince started heading home. Before he knew it, he was facing the entrance of their home. He turned the corner to see four stupid grins. “What is all this?” He asked them. Flower raised a water bottle full of red liquid. “A celebration.” She was sitting in a circle with the rest of the Mice, platters of food between them. There was even a blanket laid out on the floor to provide relief from the scratchy dirt. “What are we celebrating?” Prince found himself scanning his family again while deliberately looking away from Sasha. Flower grinned. “That nobody got shot last night.” “Okay, can we eat now?” Bolt asked with a drawn out sigh. Even Maverick seemed impatient. He turned toward Prince with the slightest grin. “We’ve been waiting for you to get back. You sure took your time.” “I sat through a sermon and even made it back before you.” Bolt teased. “But Sasha said we had to wait for you.” Prince smiled at them, sneaking a glance at Sasha before sitting down. “Alright then, let’s eat.” He sat down between Bolt and Maverick and grabbed a bowl. With every spoonful of food, the horrors of the previous night faded deeper into memory.

“Prince, you’re up.” Sasha said with a smile. She tossed him one of the many plastic bottles beside her. “It’s rum.” Prince caught the bottle and inspected the liquid curiously. With a soft breath, he threw his head back, taking a massive gulp of the liquid. It felt like his tongue was shriveling inside his mouth. “Slow down, Prince.” Bolt joked, “that’s for all of us.” Prince shook his head, his hand still over his mouth. He handed the bottle to Bolt, “knock yourself out.” He said. Bolt snatched it from him and reenacted Prince’s swig. But as soon as the liquid touched his lips, he folded forward, spraying an orange mist onto Prince. Prince recoiled away in disgust. “What the hell?” Sasha burst out into a ringing laugh. It didn’t take much for Flower and Maverick to join her, eventually, even Prince and Bolt did too. They sat there, eating to their hearts fill as they egged each other to drink more and more. When the last drop of rum had disappeared, the sun was down, leaving only the glint of the moon to light up their home. Prince laid his hands behind his head, staring at the starlit sky. Beside him, Maverick and Bolt had already gone to sleep. The night was cool with a gentle breeze that sent comforting chills down Prince’s spine. “I guess they can’t handle a few drinks,” Flower joked, her words slightly slurred. She too had her back on the ground, staring at the sky. “Flower, the only reason you’re lying on the ground like that is because you can’t get up.” Sasha responded with a musical chuckle. She had her back against the wall with a single knee bent, but her head was angled up to see the same sights as the rest of them.

When everyone had become adequately drunk, Sasha had brought up their failed drop. They had spent all day talking about their failure. It was days like these that Prince really appreciated Sasha. He doubted anyone else could’ve calmed them down like her. Though the issue was far from resolved, she had him convinced. It wasn’t the end of the world. And as long as Sasha believed it, he would too.

“I think I’m going to buy Bolt something,” Sasha said. “Something that’ll help him get over this last drop.” “Want to borrow some money?” Prince asked. Sasha shot him a glare before bursting into laughter. “What are you going to buy him?” Flower slurred. Sasha closed her eyes. “The perfect gift.” She nodded. “When you see it, you’ll know.” For a little while, they sat still, listening to the chirping of crickets. “It’s strange, not being a Mouse anymore,” Sasha said. Flower nodded, “I say good riddance. It’s not like anybody ever appreciated us anyways. We’re better off like this.” Flower spoke the truth. But Prince understood what Sasha felt. None of them liked their jobs, but they all held immense pride in it. They were Mice. Well, not anymore. “What do you guys think you’ll do?” he asked. “I’m sleeping all day.” Flower’s answer was immediately. Prince smiled. “I think I’m going to be a merchant. It’s like gambling except I won’t piss Sasha off. Right Sasha?” “You’d find a way.” Prince laughed. Despite the cool breeze, he felt warm. “Fine, Sasha, what are you going to do?” But he already knew the answer, she had told all of them countless times. He waited for her to talk about the stars of Paris. But no answer came. He listened to the soft drone of crickets until it lulled him to sleep.

SASHA Sasha listened to the gentle snoring of her family. She could tell them apart by only the sound of their sleep. Maverick snored deep, Prince’s sleep brought a slight whistling noise, Bolt would constantly shift in place, and Flower would murmur to herself. Looking at the silver dots in the sky, she felt so small. With her fist clenched and trembling, her eyes swelled with tears. If there was ever a time she was allowed to feel weak, it was now. Her family depended on her to be strong, to be invincible. As long as they looked to her for strength, she wasn’t allowed this luxury. But I’m only human. The thought made her laugh. If Prince or even Bolt had said those words, she would’ve reprimanded them as harshly as she could. “Being human is enough to take the world,” she whispered to herself. The words sounded false. Because they were. Sasha leaned her head back against the wall, allowing her tears to fall down her cheeks. Every time Bolt shifted in place, or Flower murmured a bit too loud, she would shut off her tears, quickly wiping them away. Though she didn’t want to admit it, her kiss with Prince was more based on necessity than anything else. She loved him, but it wasn’t why she kissed him. It felt like she was falling into a bottomless abyss. She was just scrambling for something to grab onto. Her throat closed. She got up and in a few quick steps, was outside. Just the distance away from her family brought her some relief, but also guilt. Distance should not feel good. In the middle of the street, beneath the starry sky, she fell to her knees and sobbed. After all she promised them, in the end, she had failed. No matter what she told them, everything they had risked their lives had burned to ash. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in years. Powerlessness. It’s not fair! No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t summon her anger. She felt like she was little girl again, alone and scared. So she just cried.

She must have been crying for a while because when she stopped, her knees were sore and her arms ached for being held to her face for so long. Wiping away her tears, she pushed herself up. Her family didn’t need a little girl, they needed the invincible Sasha. “You done?” Sasha jumped up, twisting herself to peer into the darkness. Maverick stepped out from the shadows of their alley. “You followed me?” Sasha asked defensively. Maverick didn’t entertain her annoyance. “You didn’t go very far.” And it was true, by simply stepping out of their home he had found her. Still, Sasha still felt the need to at least feign anger. “It’s not nice to spy on people.” “If this was the other way around, you’d see no fault in yourself.” This was also true. In fact, just this morning, she had done so with Prince. But now, the more pressing issue became what Maverick did with the information. “Look Mav –” “I know, I won’t tell anyone.” “Thanks.” Her response was meek, unfitting for the Sasha they expected her to be. “I’m just tired. Don’t worry about me.” Maverick stared at her as if seeing straight through her. His dark eyes missed nothing. “You might lie better than I do.” “That’s because you only learned from the best. But I am the best.” Maverick refused to give her even the façade of humor. “The best liar is a poor title to have. Do you want to know what I don’t like about you?” “It’s fine, I don’t like how I snore either.” Maverick shook his head, his lips curled in a sneer. “It’s what you did at Hawk’s Lair. It’s how you always expect us to be fine with you shouldering everything for our sake. You think that as long as you’re the only one that gets hurt, everything’s alright.” The words may have sounded sweet at some other time, but not now, not when she had to be at her strongest. “I take the blows nobody else can,” she snapped back. “That’s how I saved you all.”

“But who will be there to save you?” Sasha flicked her hair behind her. “You won’t have to worry about that. I’m invincible.” The words stung as she said them. Maverick shook his head and turned to leave. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you. No matter what.” His voice grew deep, deeper than she had ever heard before. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t remember from where. And then he was gone.

MAVERICK Where am I? The world was crimson, the color of fresh blood still pouring from the body. Maverick looked down at the pitch black street underneath him. He was knelt down. He had no recollection of getting here. Under him was a shadow without features, just a lump of black in the shape of a boy. “I have a talent for this.” For the first time, Maverick realized that he didn’t have control over his body. It was him on top of the boy, but he was also the one watching. He watched himself spear his hand into the boy’s stomach, tearing apart the shadow like paper. He flung up shreds of the shadow. He dismantled the boy, piece by piece. Though he wasn’t in control, he could feel the warm blood between his fingers, sticking underneath his nails. It pained him to claw through the boy’s flesh, ripping through muscle and organs. Even bones would be torn out and thrown into the air. But they all just became shreds of shadows evaporating into the red sky. The boy’s muscles were tough. Each time he shoved his hand inside, his nails would break or come apart. It felt like a million needles jamming itself into his fingers, but he couldn’t stop himself. The expression on his body was unmistakable; his smile seemed to stretch off his face. Happiness. The more he saw that happy face, the less strange the situation became. The red world, how he couldn’t control his body, and even the corpse turning to shadows right before his eyes, none of it mattered when he saw how happy he was. “Why does this feel so good?” His body hugged itself, trembling as it threw its head back to guffaw. But from its eyes, tears were falling to the ground. I don’t want to be a monster. “I had forgotten how great this felt. Why did I forget?” Maverick looked into his own grief-stricken eyes and realized that he was the one being asked. He was being asked by his own body.

Because I’m human. Maverick’s response came out in the form of an echo that surrounded this bloody world. He wasn’t even sure if anyone could actually hear him. “We were more human when we enjoyed ourselves.” His body responded and approached him, covered in blood. Each step brought a new splash of gore. We were disgusting. “And now what are we?” It was strange, though his body was talking, his mouth never moved. It held its smile steady, its teeth so white it was almost blinding. “We feel nothing; we want nothing; we are nothing. We were more human as a monster.” But this is ugly. “We were never born to be beautiful.” The red night evaporated away, replaced by the building he was raised in. It was the same cracked cement walls that he had once clawed his fingers bloody, trying to escape. Then there was the crowd he was so used to, shouting at him from all directions. They demanded blood. On the ground with him was a boy. He found himself smashing the boy’s head against the cement with both hands. Every lunge brought with it the sickening sound of cracking bones. The boy had long ago lost the will to fight. All he had left was his screams, filling the room with its sharp dissonance. But it didn’t matter. The crowd wanted blood. Stop. “I can’t.” Maverick’s body said as he continued slamming the boy into the ground. Blood spilled out from the boy’s ear like someone pouring out a drink. “This is what he deserves!” Please stop. “You think I want this?” His body screamed at him. His arms moved mechanically, faster and faster until the boy’s head began collapsing inside itself. “But what choice do I have? He would’ve done the same to me. This is fair isn’t it? Isn’t this justice?” Please! “Tell me, what can we do? How can we be saved?”

Maverick had no answer to give. He just watched until the boy’s head cracked open to reveal the jumbled mess inside. It drained out of his head like porridge, splattering against the floor. The boy gave off one last wail before a gurgle bubbled out of his throat. Around him, the crowd cheered in a maddening frenzy. “I did it.” Maverick watched his body chuckling to itself. It grabbed its head, a sick smile spread across its lips and it laughed. “Yes!” His body screamed, its bloody fist in the air. In a blink of an eye, the world changed once again. The concrete walls disappeared so that only the red lighting remained. The crowd morphed into shadows, their form slowly drifting away into the sky, as if they were being sucked into a vacuum. Maverick turned to face himself, tears of happiness falling from his chin. God never meant for us to be human. He had never seen himself so happy before. “So stop pretending.” Maverick awoke in a cold sweat. He looked up at the sun peeking through the alley. It took only a single breath to calm him down. He pushed himself up, his face betraying nothing.

BOLT Bolt had awoken up with a headache. He had gone to Flower for help who thought it as a perfect opportunity to send him on an errand. So after swallowing a gelatin pill, he took some money and headed to the market to buy everyone’s lunch. He found himself veering away from his path. It’s just a detour. He repeated the lie to himself, hoping that the more he voiced it, the truer it became. It wasn’t long before he found himself in front of a small run-down shack, its wooden door barely on its hinges. This was where the Mouse he had saved crawled to. He hovered his hand over the door, ready to knock. At times like this, he wished he was as decisive as Sasha, or as cool as Maverick, or at the very least, as hardheaded as Prince. Instead, all he had was his own uncertainties, sinking into his stomach into a very real nausea. Why am I back here? The more he thought about it, the less appealing knocking on the door became. Yet, his hand remained over the door in a fist. He knew nothing about this girl, not even her name. But when he closed his eyes at night, or found any moment of peace, his mind always wandered back to her. She was resilient, stronger than anyone he had ever met with pride that might even trump Sasha’s. Before Bolt could decide what to do, the door opened. The green-eyed Mouse stood on the other side of the door. Bolt stared at her with nothing to say. “What do you want?” she asked. Stupid Bolt, why didn’t you think of anything to say? Bolt stood still. Though his mouth was open, he remained silent. Her blonde hair was no longer tangled, but fell down in a slick line over her shoulders. There wasn’t a trace of dirt or grime on her anymore and she smelled like flowers. “You’ve been standing in front of my door for a while now. I could see you through our windows. Did you have something you wanted?” Her words came out nonchalantly, as if Bolt was just another acquaintance of hers.

“I just wanted to check up on you.” Bolt finally found the words he had wanted to say. But now that he had said them, they sounded awkward. “I’m fine.” Bolt scrambled for more words to say. “That’s good.” The silence between them was suffocating. Bolt stared at his feet. He noticed the dirt underneath his toenails and at the same time realized the stench he had been dragging along with him. His hand clenched into a fist. Stupid Bolt. “Gunther, I’m going out!” The girl shouted. Bolt jumped at her sudden shout. His eyes shot up, trying to see if the Mouse had seen his moment of fright. Luckily for him, her back was to him. She turned around with a slight frown on her face. “I’m going to the market; you can come along if you like.” Bolt gave her a slight nod, probably too slight for her to notice. She gave him no indication she had seen it and instead started walking. Bolt followed along, reminded of just the other day. The difference was that this time, her walk was straight and she did so with her head held high. Still, Bolt couldn’t help but notice a stiffness in her step. “I actually needed to go to the market too.” Bolt said with a nervous smile. “I guess it all worked out then.” Her tone displayed her disinterest. Though Bolt was going with her, he could hardly call it walking with her. He kept a sizable gap between them, simply walking in her footsteps. The closer they got to the market, the more crowded the streets became. The marketplace wasn’t like the rest of the streets with vendors on the sides. It was a giant open space filled with wooden stands of goods and produce. The only lanes were the ones between shops and in a particularly crowded area, traffic from both directions would push against each other in a fight for space. Bolt closed the gap between himself and the Mouse, just so he wouldn’t lose her. When they reached the market entrance, the Mouse paused. “Why are you here?” she asked, turning to face Bolt.

“I just wanted to check up on you,” Bolt repeated. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I won’t be doing another drop. I’m not a Mouse, I never was one.” The green-eyed girl turned to walk away. With her back to Bolt, she stopped to say, “But Bolt, thanks.” And with that, she disappeared into the crowd. Bolt just stood in disbelief. With a small sigh, he went into the market to buy bread.

LISSANDRA Lissandra returned home with two plastic bags full of food. She stood in front of her house just watching the door, the same way Bolt had. She found herself counting the cracks on the door, if anything, just to keep her occupied. Sorry, Bolt, but I’ll only hold you back. From here, it looked like her house had been abandoned long ago. There was only silence and the occasional creak of wood. The birds chirping nearby sounded like an orchestra next to her house. Not even her neighbors made noise, though she wasn’t even sure she had neighbors. For the few weeks that she had lived here, she hadn’t once encountered any. Her mother was probably drunk again, passed out on the couch in the clothes she had been wearing since the passing of her father. Gunther was most likely out looking for work and Leon hungry, waiting for his big sister to come home with food. “God I miss you.” Lissandra whispered to her father. She held her breath for a moment, expecting some cool gust of wind or maybe even a whisper back, anything that might indicate that her father had heard her from the other side. There was only silence. Lissandra opened her front door and stepped inside. “Where have you been?” Her mother was standing right in front of her with her fists at her waists. Her face looked years older than it had just a day ago, and centuries older than a week ago. “I was getting food.” Lissandra replied as calm as she could. She carried the bags to the kitchen. “And how’d you get the money to do that?” Elizabeth stepped in front of Lissandra. She grabbed Lissandra’s arm, her fingers like talons. “Tell me!” Lissandra squirmed away from the grip, but it was iron-tight. “Let go of me.” Her mother’s nails dug into the dark purple of her bruises. “Tell me how you got this money!” Elizabeth wore the smell of booze like perfume.

Lissandra winced and twisted her arm out of her mother’s clasp. “I did a job for Jynx.” “You’re lying, aren’t you?” Elizabeth was in tears. Just then, she looked on the verge of collapsing. Her face turned pale and she stumbled backwards. She held up a rigid finger at Lissandra. “Your father would be ashamed of you.” Lissandra looked away as if slapped. She would’ve preferred being slapped. “What would you have me do?” she asked, her voice like the calm before a storm. “You think I was too drunk to notice you? You disappear all night then come home with bruises and money and with a boy! How could you?” “That’s not—” “Did you even consider how this would affect Leon? Having a whore for a sister?” Elizabeth covered her face with her hands as she sobbed into them. “Mom, stop.” Lissandra fought her tears, but they came regardless. “I’m not—” Elizabeth grabbed both her shoulders. Lissandra felt herself being crushed between her mother’s frail arms. Elizabeth looked Lissandra in the eye with a twitching smile. “Tell me Liss, look me in the eyes and tell me you’re a virgin.” This isn’t fair. Why did it have to happen like this? All I wanted was to… Lissandra swung up her hand and smacked her mother’s face. The sound of it echoed throughout the house. Her mother toppled over to the ground. “All I wanted was to feed Leon!” Lissandra screamed the words at the ground, her head swinging with each word. Tears flew from her face, spraying the floor. Before her mother responded, she ran out and disappeared into the streets.

“Whiskey.” Lissandra knocked on the bar. “All the way up.” Within moments another cup was in front of her. A translucent yellow drink filled it to the brim. She laid her head on the bar in case she were to fall backwards. With clumsy fingers, she fished a coin out of her pocket. She had planned not to spend this money, to save it as an emergency fund. However, this was an emergency.

She sat at the same bar she used to sneak into with Gunther. They scraped up coins for a week just to share a filthy drink together. Neither enjoyed it, but both enjoyed watching the other choke through it. Her father would always find them. Most times he would be angry, yanking them by the ear back home. Once in the privacy of their house, he would lecture them for hours. But compared to the embarrassment of being dragged through public by ear, his lectures were a welcome change. However, every now and then, instead of dragging them out, he would pull out a stool and order a drink with them. With a wink he would say… “Don’t tell your mother.” Lissandra whispered to herself in recollection. “But how can I refuse such great company?” He would finish. And with that, he would take a seat and order the next round of drinks. A tap on her shoulder interrupted her daydream. “I thought I would find you here.” Gunther pulled out a stool beside her and ordered a drink, just as their dad used to. “You look radiant.” Lissandra watched him, noticing how he resembled their father. It wasn’t just in looks either, he had the same ability to know just what to say to her. “Shut up.” She responded. Gunther knocked on the bar and ordered his own drink. It looked just as disgusting as hers. “I heard you and mom got in a fight.” “Drink!” Lissandra brought the cup to her lips and drank until the burning liquid forced her to gag. She set it down, spitting some back out into the cup. Beside her, Gunther threw his head back and drained his cup of everything. “Aren’t we a little too old for this game?” Gunther asked, his mouth twisted in a disgusted frown. With a knock on the bar, he ordered another drink. “I’m not to come home anymore.” Lissandra said without looking at him. “Apparently, I’m a bad influence on Leon.” “Look, you know how mom is. She’s just going through a lot, she’s not herself right now. When I got home she on her knees begging me to find you. She wants you to come home.”

“Why would I go back to that—” “Drink!” Gunther said. Gunther raised the glass to his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as the liquid drained from his cup. Lissandra did the same. She forced the rest of her drink down her throat. It was embarrassing to only be able to drink half cups for every cup Gunther could drink. “Leon misses his big sister.” Gunther wiped his mouth on his sleeve like he could rub the drink’s taste from his tongue. “Really? I heard his sister’s a whore.” “I sure hope not,” Gunther remarked as he ordered another drink. “Because then I’d have to kill every man who so much as looked at her.” “Even you thought so…” Lissandra stared into her empty glass, remembering how Gunther had told her not to do anything she couldn’t explain to Leon. Back then, his words were a knife in her back, now, it felt like she had been speared through. Gunther looked down at his drink, at a loss. Finally, he answered. “I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it. I was just trying to get you to come back home.” “And is that what you’re doing now? You’re going to ask me to go back home?” She knocked on the bar and watched the bartender pour her more poison. “No,” Gunther said meekly. “I’m going to get down on my knees and beg you to come home. We need you, Liss. At the very least, I need you. Mom’s depressed, Leon’s scared, and I think I’m going crazy. You’re the only one I can even talk to anymore.” Lissandra stared at her drink. She let out a small sigh, but the corners of her lips curled up into a reluctant smile. “Drink.”

GUNTHER By the time Gunther and Lissandra were done drinking, twilight had swallowed the sky. They stumbled to their front door. Before Gunther could fish the keys out of his pocket, Lissandra plopped down onto the dirt street and laid down. “I thought you could handle your liquor a little better.” Gunther hooted. “C’mon little sister, you barely drank half of what I drank. Are you really so light?” “I fell on purpose, I just want to sit here for a little.” Lissandra shot back, her vowels stringing together. She rested her head against the floor and closed her eyes. It seemed like she would fall asleep, but then again, she was never one to let someone else have the last word. “You have a job yet, Gunther?” “No, so I guess it’s a good thing you drink so little then. Save us all a little money.” Lissandra chuckled back. “Maybe I only drink so little because we can’t afford more.” Gunther sat down next to her, happy not to be on his feet anymore. “Seriously though, I’ll get one soon. I swear.” “You better, because I just quit mine.” “Well, as the man of the…” Gunther let his sentence fade. With a drawn-out sigh, he continued, “You’re more man of the house than I am, you actually put food on the table. I’m sorry, Liss. I’ve been too hard on you, I just didn’t want you doing anything that’d get you in trouble or hurt.” Lissandra stayed silent. Her eyes kept to the stars. Except for the rise and fall of her breaths, she was completely still. “Do you remember what dad told me whenever he and mom left the house?” Gunther asked. “No.” Lissandra said as if scared to speak too loudly. “Gunther, no matter what, keep your little sister and brother safe. You’re the man of the house now, anything that happens to them, is on you,” Gunther recited in a deep voice, mimicking the baritone command of their father. “Back then, I remember complaining about it. I thought it was unfair that I was responsible just because I was born first. But

honestly Liss, if anything were to happen to you, I think I’d lose it. That’s why I’ve been arguing with you so much.” “I know.” Lissandra said as light as a breeze. She sniffed back tears. In a quiet voice he said, “I love you, Liss.” “I love you too.” “We don’t talk anymore. We just fight all the time.” Gunther let his head fall right next to Lissandra’s. “Look, you don’t need to tell me everything, but at least tell me the important stuff. You know?” Gunther counted stars as he waited for Lissandra to respond. The silence around them was lightened only by the sound of chirping crickets. By the time he had counted fifty, he figured his sister was either asleep, or refusing to talk. “That’s alright,” Gunther told himself in a hushed voice. He got up and looked over at his sister’s emerald eyes, still open and fixed on the stars. Perhaps she too was counting. “Mouse.” She whispered. “What was that?” “I was a Mouse.” Gunther cast his eyes to the ground. “I figured it was something like that.” “It paid well and was easy to get into.” “I know it’s unfair of me to ask” –Gunther looked back up at Lissandra— “especially since you only got into it because I’m too pitiful to get a job, but promise me you won’t do that anymore. Please, Liss.” Lissandra gave him a slight nod. “Thanks,” said Gunther, jumping to his feet. “Let’s get back home, I have to be up early tomorrow to look for—” “I was raped.” “What?”

Gunther wished he had misheard her, but by the way she bit into her lips so hard she drew blood, he knew he hadn’t. Her eyes clenched shut, a stream of tears rolling off the side of her face. Gunther couldn’t peel his eyes away from her. Never before had he seen her so frail. His own words caught in his throat and disappeared into a painful groan. “What did you say?” Gunther insisted. Lissandra continued to silently cry, coughing and gagging just to remain quiet. The last time she cried this hard was at their dad’s funeral. Gunther looked away. He wanted to hug her and comfort her, but he felt that a single step might shatter him. No. Not her. Gunther grit his teeth. If he could, he would’ve ground them to dust. His right fist was clenched so tight, his entire body shook. Drops of blood dripped from the trenches his nails had dug into his palm. “No,” he muttered to himself. He fell to the ground on all fours. His fingers stabbed the cracked earth. Tears rained down from his face. He clutched his chest and laid his forehead on the ground. “It was a drop. There were two Hawks. And I couldn’t…” Lissandra’s voice cracked then faded. “No.” Gunther tapped his head against the ground. “No, no, no, no!” Each word came louder than the last. Each tap hit harder than the previous until he was slamming his head against the ground and screaming. It felt like his head might split in two. But even if it did, it would not be nearly enough punishment. He was to blame. Lissandra’s shaking arms wrapped around his head and held him back. She pressed her nose into his hair and brought him into her chest. Even now, I’m the one being comforted. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered. They stayed like that until their tears dried. By then, orange edges cracked the horizon. Gunther led his little sister back into their room to sleep. He didn’t follow her inside. There was no way he could sleep tonight.

For once, his mother was in her bedroom, giving him the couch to sit on. Gunther sat there with his hands clasped onto his head and fingers digging into his skull. It’s my fault. It’s because I’m too pathetic to find work. Gunther took heavy and laborious breaths. He crunched himself deeper until his knees came up to his head. His hands trembled as they tried to break his skull. Fuck! With tears still in his eyes, he sprinted through the door and before he knew it, he was standing in front of the Riverside Tavern. It was still too early for it to be open, but he didn’t care. He walked in to see the place vacant except for the bartender cleaning a table. “What are you doing here?” The bartender asked him surprised. It was the first time Gunther had ever heard him use a tone that wasn’t a bored indifference. “I’ll take it!” Gunther screamed. “What?” “I’ll do whatever it is, work for whoever it is. I don’t care what happens, as long as it pays.” “Sounds good.” The bartender’s calm voice stood in stark contrast with Gunther’s. With a nod, the bartender retreated back behind his bar and began polishing glasses with an expression Gunther had never seen on him before, a smile.

SASHA All Sasha wanted was for things to be back to normal, to how they were before. But she found herself blushing every time she made eye contact with Prince, and turning away whenever she did so with Maverick. Though she was able to keep conversation with Flower, she could tell that Flower sensed something was amiss. So when Flower mentioned that she had to go to the Project Persist station to collect money for their last drop, Sasha volunteered to do so instead. She walked to the Project Persist station, her head swimming. She stepped inside, taking a second to appreciate the waft of cool air flowing through her hair. In front of her was a line of dirty kids leading to a desk, she took her place in line. The tile floor felt foreign to her feet. She gripped its edges, surprised by how smooth they were. But then again, everything about this place was foreign to her. Its desks were a mahogany brown, lined up from one end of the room to another like a giant wall. Unkempt employees sat behind each desk. At the very end of the room, opposite to the entrance, was the title Project Persist in shiny plastic letters. The title was underlined by a picture of two hands, spread open as if receiving alms. But besides the desks and the lettering, the rest of the building was just empty space for people to wait in. Though the line was short, the employees were slow. Some held their feet on their desks as if to show off their shoes. One employee even slept, snoring with his face on his desk. “This isn’t enough!” Sasha turned to see a boy with spiky blonde hair arguing with one of the employees. The boy held an envelope in one hand. His other hand was bandaged so tightly it didn’t look like he would be able to make a fist. The bandage went all the way up his arm. The employee flicked his head back, flipping his wavy blonde hair. His feet rested on the desk. “Company policy, kid.” “Is it company policy also to send kids into fucking warzones?”

“If you have any complaints, file a formal one online.” He swung his feet off his desk and leaned in toward the boy. “Otherwise, stop wasting my time.” “You know I can’t do that.” Tears spilled out of the boy’s eyes. When he spoke, he did so with his teeth clenched. “We just need money to bury Lucas. Please.” “Look,” the employee crossed his arms. “I can’t just give out money to every sob story that comes in here. For all I know, you’re lying.” When he opened his mouth, his words came deflated. “You think I’m lying?”

The employee sighed, clearly annoyed. “If you don’t want the money, I can take it back. Otherwise, deal with your problems yourself. Next!” For a while, the Mouse just stood there. With a defeated shake of the head, the Mouse turned and left. Sasha watched him go. A familiar feeling welled inside her chest as she clenched her fists shut. She stepped forward to replace the Mouse. The employee’s feet returned to his desk. “I’m Tyler, how may I help you?” “I’m here to collect payment for a drop.” Sasha looked in his coffee mug to see a thick syrup. “What’s your name?” His breath reeked of alcohol. “It’s under the name Flower.” “What a strange name.” He fumbled through the file cabinet until he pulled out a large stack of papers. “Oh wow, now this is just unlucky.” Sasha frowned. “How long did it take you to do so many drops?” “Almost three years now.” “Holy shit. Three years down the drain.” Tyler held up his coffee mug. “You look like you need a drink.” “You look like you need to stop.”

“Hey, show some courtesy.” Tyler snapped. “I’m giving you money even though you failed, I’m doing you a favor.” Sasha shook her head. “No, you’re doing your job. A favor would be giving the last Mouse some burial money.” “Tons of people die every day. You want me to hand them all money?” Tyler asked. The anger she couldn’t summon the previous night returned in full force. “No, I want you to stop being an asshole and do your god damn job properly.” Tyler leaned toward her and threw his head back, drinking what was left of his coffee mug. When he finished, he slammed the mug back down onto the table. “How’s that for properly? If you were in my shoes, I promise you, you’d do the same as I did. This is just too good of deal to mess up, especially for just a Mouse.” “Just a Mouse?” Somehow, Sasha managed to keep her voice donw. “We risk our lives to save people like you.” “So what? Do you expect me to save every sob story that comes into this place? That’s ridiculous, I’m only human.” Against her better judgment, Sasha opened her mouth. As soon as she did, all semblance of control disappeared. Her hands smacked the table, toppling Tyler over in surprise. “Only human?” Sasha screamed. “Next to God Himself, humans are the most powerful beings in this world. So when you tell me you’re only human, please explain to me what the fuck that’s supposed to mean!” Silence. Sasha looked around to see startled eyes. Even the employee who was asleep had woken. She turned back to Tyler who was scrambling up from the ground. Shit. “I’m just here for my pay.” She muttered. “Fuck off.” “Not without what I’m owed.”

“Too bad, we’re closed.” Tyler set his seat back upright. With a stern finger pointed at the door, he shouted, “Everyone, get out!” Nobody moved. All eyes were on Sasha. “Get these people out of here!” Tyler screamed with a wave of his hand. It was as if the rest of the employees came out of a daze. They scurried people out, like dogs herding sheep, but none dared come near Sasha. “I want to talk to the manager.” Sasha said. “You’re talking to him.” Tyler sat back down on his seat and crossed his arms. The room was empty except for Sasha and the employees. “Then I want to talk to your boss.” Tyler snorted. “You want to complain to The Dragon?” The words hit Sasha like a punch to the face. It took her a few moments just to register what they meant. “What do you mean The Dragon?” she asked softly. The blood drained from Tyler’s face and his words came out in a nervous stammer. “No, I mean, he’s everybody’s boss. He runs this city. That was…” Sasha reached across the desk and grabbed a clump of his shirt. She pulled him in so that their noses were just a few inches apart. “That was what?” she growled. “A joke? Why did you mention The Dragon?” Tyler was as limp as a doll. His eyes were wide. “Please, don’t tell him I said anything.” Everything came together. In that instant, Sasha knew why Mice and Hawks still existed. The realization sent shudders down her spine. The history books were right, Project Persist ended years ago. Mice and Hawks was something The Dragon started. She let go of Tyler and stepped backwards, almost stumbling. “Hey look, I can get you your money now.” Tyler said. He reached under his desk and pulled out a thick yellow envelope of cash. “I can even give you extra, nobody has to know about it.”

Sasha took a step back. This seemed to trigger something in Tyler because he lunged forward to grab her. His stomach hit the desk and he fell face-first into the floor. Sasha turned and ran out the door. “Stop!” Tyler called out after her. She sprinted down the street, headed directly toward Hawk’s Lair.

LAO Lao’s body melted into the cushions of his chair. He grabbed the glass of Chilean merlot beside him and sipped. Long ago, he had found that wine and cigarettes were best suited to eliminate the aftertaste of the poison in his flask. Today’s burning had been particularly unpleasant. It was a Lion named Lily, just another pawn for The Boss to play with. They had found her delirious in a puddle of blood. When they dragged her away, she had thanked them, as if they were saving her. “I’ve seen a true monster,” she had claimed. And when she burned, she didn’t even beg. The Dragon’s losing its edge. Now of all times. Lao needed the city to believe in his power for just a little longer. Then, he would save the city despite itself. Maybe The Boss knew that. Who is this man? His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” he said. Salib opened the door and stepped aside to let Jynx through. “The Boss is targeting drops,” Lao said. “Is there any chance that he knows?” Jynx shook her head. “There’s no way. Only we know the truth.” “So then what’s his angle?” “He wants the city,” Salib said. “I think his next move will be another attack on Hawk’s Lair. If he takes Hawk’s Lair, people will realize that we’re only human.” Lao squeezed his wine glass. “He can have this city. As soon as I’m done saving it. How many drops left do you need, Salib?” Salib pinched his chin in thought. “Just one,” he finally said. “Then we’ll have identified all our patrons.”

Lao nodded. “I’ve waited five years to bring this world to its knees, I can wait a few more days. Jynx, I want you to—” A muffled shriek interrupted Lao. “Did you guys hear that?” Lao asked. He put a finger over his lips and waited. Sure enough, the shriek came again, this time, more clear. “Dragon!” It was a female voice, one that he hadn’t heard for a long time. Lao shot up from his chair. “We’re not done yet, father,” Jynx said. Lao walked out, down the plush carpet of the hallway. He turned the hall toward the main room to see brown hair flying in all directions. As soon as he was down the stairs, eyes as red as blood honed into him. She screamed as she thrashed within in the guard’s grip. “It’s been a while,” Lao said, a smile peeking through his lips. “Why have you never come to visit, Sasha?”

JYNX “That’s enough now,” The Dragon said. “You can let go of her.” “But sir,” one of the guards protested. The Dragon didn’t let him finish, he silenced them with a single hand. The guards exchanged worried looks. It was comical that such large men could be worried by such a small girl. With a nod, they released her. Sasha lunged forward, breaking into a full sprint toward The Dragon. She only made it half way before a guard tackled her from behind. He landed on top of her, crushing her with his weight. The Dragon stood still, a smile on his face. For whatever reason, he held a soft spot for this girl. Jynx could never understand why her father would admire such a weak girl. “Are you here to wager your other eye?” The Dragon asked. Sasha was a pathetic sight, groveling as Mice should. Jynx stepped between Sasha and her father, in case she was to try something else. However, a hand on her shoulder stopped her. The Dragon pushed her away just as the guard got off Sasha. Jynx began protesting. “But—” “No.” The Dragon gave her a look that meant she was not to speak back. Jynx stepped aside, hardly able to contain her annoyance. Why is she so special? “You piece of shit,” Sasha spat out from the ground. She pushed herself up, glaring at The Dragon as if nobody else existed. “I’ve been called much more,” The Dragon responded. But people have died for much less. “You’ve been playing us from the start.” Sasha staggered up. Her fists clenched at her sides as if she was preparing for a fight. “Who is ‘us’?” The Dragon asked. “Mice.”

The one word drained Jynx of breath. She looked at Salib with an awed expression, trying to mentally tell him to do something, but Salib was just as shocked as the rest of them. “Let’s continue this conversation in my office.” The Dragon said in a low voice. Sasha didn’t budge. “Tell me Lao, did any of it matter?” “How did you find out?” “Answer me!” Sasha’s voice jumped a few octaves. This girl is dangerous. Sasha rolled her sleeves up to her shoulder to reveal biceps littered with scars and cuts. “Did any of this matter?” “Guards!” Jynx said. The two guards behind her walked up and placed a hand on Sasha’s shoulders, ready to restrain her. Their touch was light. They probably felt pity for this girl, just as her father did. Jynx looked to her father. “She knows.” Their next course of action was obvious. “Take her to The Dragon’s Pit and keep her quiet.” Salib ordered. The guards didn’t move. They exchanged nervous looks “What’s the problem?” Jynx asked, her patience gone. “She’s just a little girl,” a guard responded. “And as I recall, you have one too. So pick which little girl you want to worry about.” Jynx snapped back. One guard looked away, too ashamed to make eye contact. He pressed one hand against Sasha’s mouth to keep her quiet. With a slight push with the other hand, he began leading her to The Dragon’s Pit. The Dragon stood frozen in place as they led Sasha past him. “Ow!”

Jynx heard the sound of crunching bone before she saw the blood. Sasha twisted out of the guards’ grip with blood in her mouth. She charged The Dragon with a charred blade in hand and nobody in her way. It was like time had stopped. Even the guard squeezing his bloody finger remained still. For a moment, Jynx thought that the world itself had ceased to spin. They watched Sasha, the blackened tip of her knife trembling right below The Dragon’s neck. She opened her mouth and screamed at the floor. She threw shriek after shriek into the carpet. Then, in one last piercing note, she dropped the knife. The guard she bit got to her first. He wrapped his arms around her body and lifted her into the air. She hung loosely as if all the energy had been drained from her body.

SASHA I’m sure drawing a lot of attention today. Sasha looked around at the gamblers in Hawk’s Lair staring at her. It felt very reminiscent of the last time she was here. Once again, she didn’t know if she would make it out alive. But this time, there was nobody depending on her to save them. Sasha felt like a child. Her legs dangled loosely below her. The guard’s embrace was so tight she found it hard to breathe. She felt herself being carried away to wherever The Dragon’s Pit was. It didn’t sound like a five-star resort. “What’s The Dragon’s Pit?” She asked. The guard carrying her didn’t stop. With every step he took, his arms dug deeper into her ribs until she thought they would crack. “It’s the place we send all the rule breakers of this city.” A man with thick glasses responded. He was the same man who had come out with Lao, probably someone pretty important. “Yeah?” Sasha responded. “Well, what rule did I break?” The man with glasses seemed offended that she even asked. “You tried to kill The Dragon. Our very first rule forbids violence.” “He’s still alive isn’t he? And it’s not because you guys stopped me.” “Then what was it? Because you had a sudden change of heart?” “Mice don’t kill.” “Enough.” Lao stepped in front of the spectacled man. Whatever humorous facade he previously had was gone. All that was left was the cold king of the city. “Do you honestly believe you can talk your way out of this one?” “Lao,” Sasha said. “A king is the embodiment of his ideals, a slave to them. Those are your words. How do those ideals feel about you killing an innocent girl?” Lao sighed and gave her a gentle look. He brought up his hand and rested it on her head in a soft pat. His face twisted in anger. He grabbed a clump of her hair and yanked it down, exposing her neck.

“You will not call me Lao,” The Dragon growled. “You will show me the respect I demand.” Sasha stifled a scream. It felt like her hair was being torn apart. The smell of gasoline hung off The Dragon like cheap cologne. “Nobody in this city is innocent.” The Dragon continued. With each word, he tugged even harder until Sasha was looking at the ceiling. “So you read a few words from my book. I wrote that a long time ago, back when I didn’t know any better.” Between The Dragon pulling her hair and the guard squeezing the air out of her body, Sasha found it hard to talk. “You still believe in something, don’t you?” She uttered. To her relief, The Dragon let go. “I believe that two is greater than one. I believe that ideals are as cheap as the people who believe them. I believe that great things come at great cost. The only choices in this world are the lesser of two evils. If I believed that I was the greater evil for this city, I would put a bullet through my brain right now.” With a nod, he stepped away so the guard could continue escorting Sasha. “I should have ended you long ago.” “So why didn’t you?” Sasha screamed breathless. The guard stopped. The Dragon stepped in front of them. “You reminded me of something I once believed in. And now, when you disappear, I can finally rid myself of those false beliefs.” “What beliefs? That you’re allowed to toy with our lives for your own pleasure?” “Sasha, you only know half the truth. I do these things for the same reason I became The Dragon, to save this city!” The Dragon leaned in close and growled into Sasha’s ear, “You still believe that life can be fair. I lost my naivety long before you were even born.” “I never believed that.” Sasha muttered to the ground, tears returning to her eyes. “Of course life isn’t fair. From the time we’re born, the cards are already stacked against us. We’re born with different talents, into different families, at different times; all of which may determine our future more than we ever could. I don’t need you to remind me of that.” Just as her first tear fell, she brought up her eyes to face The Dragon. From deep within, she found the strength to yell. “Yet we still choose to live! We wake up every day and rage against the lives we were given. We play the shitty hands we were dealt and when

beat by impossible odds, we smile or laugh or cry, but we always wait for the next round. It might not mean a thing to you, but that’s how we live!” For the shortest second, the only sound in the entire casino was the sound of Sasha’s uncontrollable sobs. At last, The Dragon responded, his words slow and deliberate. “There is no beauty in that struggle, only suffering.” “How would you understand our struggle? You’ve never been at the bottom. You don’t know what it’s like to stay up, wondering if your family will make it back tonight. You have no idea what it’s like to risk our lives every week just for a bit to eat. So don’t mock us Mice!” The Dragon shook his head turned away from her. This was as far as she went. Suddenly, a deafening crack resounded through the casino. It sounded like the earth itself had split in two. In a single instant, The Dragon’s ear disappeared in a flower of blood. He screamed and crunched over, clutching his ear with both hands. The guard threw Sasha aside as he leapt onto The Dragon; just in time for two bullets to lodge themselves into his back. All eyes turned to see the shooter. Sasha’s breath caught. It was the same man she had seen the other day. He had on the same mask she saw that day too, except now, he had painted a curved smile on the faceless mask of the Lions. The smile shone blood red. His arm stretched toward her with the glistening metal of a pistol at the end of it. “The Slasher,” someone said. The room exploded into pandemonium. The gamblers of Hawk’s Lair pushed and shoved each other, climbing on top of tables and jumping into the crowd only to be crushed in the stampede. The Slasher disappeared amidst the chaos. A thunderous noise filled the room and a fourth bullet smashed the chandelier right above Sasha. She covered her face as the chandelier’s teeth rained down upon her. A fifth shot erupted, shattering a glass window right behind Sasha. Without a second thought, Sasha pushed herself off the ground, and sprinted toward the broken window. But before she could dive through the shattered glass, a hand snatched her arm and a large body fell on top of her, pinning her to the ground.

JYNX It was The Slasher. Of all the people who could show up, it had to be him and it had to be right now. The gamblers of Hawk’s Lair were in a panic, scrambling over each other and on top of furniture to escape. The Slasher had disappeared inside the chaos. Around her, The Dragon’s guards had their guns out, pointed at their customers. “Guns down!” she screamed. But she could see it in the eyes of the guards, they were just as scared as the crowd in front of them. Nobody could live in this city without hearing of The Slasher. With every retelling of the story, his deeds became more gruesome and his powers more amazing. Beside the broken window, there was only a single way out of Hawk’s Lair, and they were standing in the way of it. Each person inside the crowd probably thought The Slasher was right next to him. It was only a matter of time before one of them decided to make a mad dash toward the exit and when that happened… I have to get the guards to put away their guns. Jynx stepped in front of them with her arms stretched to her full wingspan. “Put down your guns!” It didn’t seem like they could hear her above the sound of panic. She watched the guards, half of them trembling at the knees, their faces pale and eyes wide. She heard a gasp and then all the guns pointed at her. The entire room quieted. “Such ugly noise,” a deep voice said from behind her. “I’m sorry such a pretty girl has to hear this.” Jynx turned to see a smile painted in blood on a blank mask. The Slasher gripped her sides with his hand, his jagged blade against her back. “It’s funny how it works, when it’s only a single scream, it produces such a beautiful note. But together, it’s all wrong. Nobody wants to hear such dissonance.” “What do you want?” Jynx asked. Now that the entire casino had gone silent, it sounded like she was talking too loud.

The Slasher laughed, his chest heaving with his laughter. The edge of his knife danced on her back but did not cut. “I am not a very possessive man, but the red-eyed Mouse is mine.” Jynx nodded, though she wasn’t sure The Slasher could tell from behind. “Put down your guns.” The Dragon said, finally escaped from under his guard. The guards did so. “So you’re The Slasher, I’ve heard stories about you.” “Oh?” The Slasher’s words held a curious inflection. “And what have you heard?” The Dragon stepped toward him until he was standing right in front of Jynx. “I’ve heard that you can walk through walls, disappear in shadows, and when you kill people, you steal their souls. Frankly, I’m disappointed. You’re only human.” The Slasher giggled. “I can see why you’re disappointed then.” “It seems that we are at a standoff.” Blood dripped from The Dragon’s ear onto his suit, growing the red stain already there. Half his ear hung off his body, held together by a single thread of flesh. “You have your girl and I have mine. That’s my daughter you have and I am an extremely possessive man.” “Then I’d like to propose a trade.” The Dragon snapped his fingers and a guard came dragging Sasha in tow. She yelled obscenities as her feet scraped against the floor, but she wasn’t strong enough to fight the guard. “You read my mind.” The Slasher said. “But now we have to figure out a way I leave here alive.” “My word’s not enough?” “If your word is all you can offer me, then I’m afraid I’ve wasted your time.” The Slasher giggled again. “So, are you going to try to kill me first, or should I go first?” “How about neither.” Sasha declared. Both The Slasher and The Dragon gave Sasha an incredulous stare. “Oh? Did you forget that I’m not just a bargaining chip? I can still talk, you know. I don’t know about you guys, but I intend to live.”

The Slasher threw his head up and laughed. “Do you not see how I am taken by this girl? Dragon, you heard the girl, let us do what we came here to do, and bargain.”

LAO “Why did you let them go?” Jinx screamed. Now that they were in the privacy of Lao’s office, her volume control went out the window. Not even Salib’s presence had quieted her down. Lao snickered. “To save your life.” He winced as he pressed the bandage onto his ear. It was a crude job, but there was work to be done. Right now, he had to figure out what to do about Sasha and The Slasher. “There was a million things you could’ve done, but you let them both just walk out the front door.” Jinx’s hands flailed violently. Whatever composure she had kept during the negotiations was long gone. “You’ve always had a soft spot for that girl and now it’s going to cost us everything!” “She doesn’t know enough of the truth to cost us that much.” “But to give her another drop, knowing that she knows this much. Are you insane?” Jynx yelled. “What happens if she tells the other Mice?” “She knows what will happen if she tells anyone. She should keep quiet if only to protect her family.” Jinx threw her hands up and slammed them down on the table in front of her. “As if that girl follows reason! She marched into here with a knife to kill you!” Lao ground his teeth together. “Then I’ll break my promise.” “You’re taking a risk because you pity this girl.” “You’re forgetting who you’re speaking to.” Lao’s icy gaze honed into Jynx’s eyes.“I think you need to remember.” Jinx remained unafraid. She lifted up the hem of her shirt to reveal a black dragon seared into her waist. “You’ve grown soft, Dragon.” “Not soft enough for you to be talking to me like this.” Without the formality between them, Jinx seemed foreign. It reminded him of back when she was still young and wild. The last time she had gotten like this, he had her branded.

“You used to be a feared king. Now look at you, bullied by a little girl. If you’re not strong enough, someone else will take your spot. All men wish to rule.” Jynx lowered her shirt and stomped out the room. Lao watched her leave. When Jinx was well away from his office, Salib spoke. His voice sounded awkward in the tense silence. “Dragon, I –” “Salib,” Lao’s voice waned as if he was too tired to properly finish the sentence. “Do you also think that I made the wrong choice here?” Salib looked away a little too obviously. “It’s not my place to say.” After a brief pause, he turned back toward Lao. “I just wonder why it is that this girl is so special. Sasha.” Lao sighed and fell back into his chair. “Before I was The Dragon, I was a boy that believed in legends and heroes. I thought that if I could save this city, I might go down in legend. I was a fool to believe there was anything grand about that. “I had thought I killed that boy, but every time I see Sasha, how desperately she clings to hopeless ideals...” The Dragon sighed. “So hopeless it’s tragic. But there is beauty in her struggle. Jynx wishes for me to do away with her, like she is just another one of the rats that that run through my city. You tell me that if it’s between this city and her, it’s an easy choice. But, I’m not so sure.” The room fell silent. Salib stared at his hands. Looking up, he said, “Please, tell me about how you met her. The guards still tell stories about it, though I’m not sure how much of it is exaggerated.” “Okay.” Lao closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “Then listen carefully, because I will only tell this story once.” His heart jumped just remembering the story. It was a story about a girl whose eyes burned hotter than hell itself. In his mind, everything played out just as he remembered it. It was perhaps almost three months ago now. The most surprising thing was that he had never heard of this girl until then, a teenage girl who led the most successful group of Mice to ever run the streets. By the time he had arrived, she already had the knife to her eye. “You have such pretty eyes,” her attacker had told her…

SASHA – 74 Days Ago “You have such pretty eyes,” the large man said as his knife edged ever closer to her pupils. His breath reeked of cigarettes and alcohol. In his eyes was a deep daze from some drug she had never heard of. Sasha held her breath, too scared to even blink. “No,” Prince yanked his body against the guards that held him down. It looked as if he wanted to tear out his arms. “I’m the one that owes you money, not her! Leave her alone!” Unfortunately, his tears and screams only encouraged the fat man. Around them was a small circle of people, hooting and laughing. “I think I’m going to take one,” the large man continued. “I’ll put it in a little vial beside my bed.” The edge of the knife bit into Sasha’s brow. Everything inside her told her to scream and run. Sasha kicked against the ground as she strained her neck away from the knife. She let out small grunts. The crowd laughed. Some even shouted words of encouragement. Others just clapped as they pushed their way forward for a better view. “Stop!” Prince heaved the words from his lips, as if vomiting. “Sasha!” His head jerked to his side and his jaws snapped at the hands holding him down. His teeth crunched together, hitting nothing but air. Sweat dripped from his hair, mixing with his tears in a small shower onto the plush carpet. I remember now. The reason I’m here… She had been so preoccupied with the blade, she had forgotten Prince. He had just been a prop in the background. In another time and place, she would’ve blushed from shame. But not here. Sasha ground her teeth together and exhaled her held breath. Even as the knife dug deeper into her face, she remained still. She was the strong one in their family. It had always been this way. They needed her to be strong so that they could believe in her. As long as they could do so, there was nothing in this world that could frighten them. So now, she had to prove her strength. I’m already in a casino, might as well gamble. “Then take it!” Sasha screamed.

She lurched her head forward into the knife. It felt like a fire, searing through her eye. As the fire burned away, a blackness enveloped everything. There was no telling whether this was death or blindness. The sound of metal hitting the ground gave her the answer. She was alive. And her assailant had dropped his knife and backed away. “What the fuck?” his voice shook, half of the sentence in an awed whisper. “Why did you—” “You missed.” Sasha said. With a scream she forced her good eye open. Warm blood trickled down her face, splattering onto the velvet carpet. The large man looked at her like she was a monster, his face whiter than snow. With every step she took forward, he took one back, until he tripped over his own foot and fell. Sasha bent over and grabbed the knife from the carpet, its blade stained red with her blood. Her captor held his hands in front of him in a weak block. “You’re not as tough as you think you are.” It was hard to talk through grit teeth, but the pain forced her mouth closed. Sasha tossed the knife to the man’s feet. “Try again.” He jumped away from the blade. His head shook, sweat dripping from his face. Just like the crowd around them, he was silent. Only Prince could talk, and he only spoke in half words. “Wha— Why? Sasha…” He squealed. “Don’t, no, what the fu—” Sasha stepped toward the man, chasing him to the edge of the crowd. She picked up the knife and placed its handle in his hand. “Again.” The man took the knife in both hands as if holding a flower. “You don’t think I can stomach this?” he stammered. “No.” Sasha’s response was immediate. She knelt down in front of him and dragged his hand back to her eye. The tip of the knife poked her eyebrow. “Don’t fucking underestimate me!” Before he could finish his sentence, his voice cracked and his eyes swelled with tears. “I’ll do it, I swear to God I’ll take out your eye.” The knife danced on Sasha’s brow, shaking with the man’s trembling body. It cut into her skin, but only shallow cuts and by accident. Unlike the first time, the man did not hold her still. She was free to dodge however she pleased. But she was a statue.

“I’m getting bored.” Sasha said. The man’s eyes widened in surprise. His jaw fell open and a desperate cry escaped his throat. It was almost like he was the one getting stabbed. The blade vibrated faster than it ever had. The man screamed. It sounded like a dying animal. He screamed until his voice gave out and the knife fell from his hands. When he regained his breath, he screamed again into his hands. “Mercy,” he whispered. Sasha stood over him, looking down at him. “Fine.” With a quick twirl, she scanned the crowd. None dared look back. “Would anyone else like a try?” she asked. “Or can I leave now, lest you waste more of my time.” “Sasha,” Prince said the word as if it were two, separated by its syllables. Sasha walked up to his captors, the knife still in her hand. They backed away with the rest of the crowd. She felt like Moses parting the sea. Prince fell forward. He had some bruises, but other than that, he looked fine. She gave him a small smile and he returned her a terrified stare. “C’mon now.” She kept her voice soft. Prince took Sasha’s hand and stood, his eyes fixed on her eye. “Spectacular!” A man in a white suit exclaimed. He stood on the second floor in what looked like a giant observation deck. He clapped his hands together in a slow and steady applause. “Girl, what is your name?” Sasha turned to see the source of the voice. The man who said that was the only one who still dared look her in the eye. She was sure that if this man had been the one with the knife, she would already be dead. “Sasha.” She answered. Venom spewed through both syllables. “Pleased to meet you Sasha. My name is Lao, but here in this city, I am known as The Dragon. I’m sure you’ve heard of me, this is my casino you’re in. Your little friend over there owes us a bit of money, so I’m afraid you won’t be taking him.”

“Like hell I won’t!” She glared at the most powerful man in the city. “I’ve heard of you, Lao, but I don’t care who you are, or what is owed to you. You will never take one of mine!” “Don’t expect me to bend over to your empty threats, little girl.” “Empty threats? Little girl?” Sasha let out a sharp laugh. “Just who the hell do you think I am?” She grabbed Prince’s hand and walked out the door. As soon as the doors closed behind her, Sasha dropped to her knees and shrieked at the floor. Her tears were molten lava.

FLOWER Flower flipped through another plastic page. The dresses in her magazine put any piece of garment she had ever owned to shame. Wearing those clothes would be like wearing art. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d even enjoy it. It would feel like a waste to wear. From the peripherals of her vision, she could see Maverick sneaking glance after glance toward the entrance of the alley. He fidgeted on the ground, drawing lines in the dirt with a stick. “It’s not like you to be so nervous, Mav,” Flower said flatly. “What’s up?” “Nothing.” Maverick returned his gaze to the ground, pretending to focus on whatever lines he was etching into the dirt. “You just got back and already you’re this energetic? If you’re looking for something to do, go help Bolt finish preparing our roof. The storm’s supposed to be tomorrow.” “It’s fine,” Bolt said, “I’m already done.” He looked up at his handiwork. Umbrellas cascaded past each other in a makeshift roof. It had never failed them before, but tomorrow would be its true test. “So what’s bothering you, Mav?” Bolt asked. “It’s just that Sasha’s been out a while. The sun’s almost down and she still hasn’t come back. I’m just worried about her,” Maverick responded. Bolt turned with a queer look on his face. “C’mon, this is Sasha we’re talking about. The girl is practically invincible.” “No, she’s human.” Maverick sounded a little annoyed. “To her, those are basically the same,” Bolt said. “Seriously, you should take a page out of Prince’s playbook.” They all turned to look at Prince, a shirt still lumped over his face. His chest rose at a slow and steady pace. He looked completely at peace. “Isn’t he a little too carefree?” Flower asked jokingly. “She’s back.” Maverick nodded toward the alley entrance.

Flower turned to see a shadow stretched against the wall. Gradually, it grew until Sasha turned the corner. “Welcome back, Sasha!” Flower smiled in relief. “Hey Sasha,” Maverick said with a small voice. Sasha took small steps toward them. She leaned against the wall, looking as if she would fall over without its support. Her face was drained of its usual rosy hue. “Hey guys.” “You okay, Sasha?” Bolt asked with a look of concern. “Of course, who do you think I am?” But it was unlike the way she usually said it. This time, her voice waned and by the time she finished the sentence, it sounded like a whisper. “How was Project Persist, did you get the money?” Flower asked cautiously. Sasha looked away as if ashamed to make eye contact. “No. I got in a fight with the manager. Sorry, Flower. I’ll go back tomorrow when he’s calmed down.” “What happened?” Flower closed her magazine, giving Sasha her full attention. “Look, let’s talk about this some other time. Okay, Flower?” Sasha sighed. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.” “I’d rather not. Clearly something’s wrong. Sasha, you can tell us.” “Flower, just drop it,” Maverick said. “She said she’ll tell us tomorrow.” “No,” Flower answered. “Sasha, we’re just worried about you. What happened?” “I can’t say,” Sasha responded. “What do you mean you can’t?” “That is what I mean.” Flower shook her head, astounded by Sasha’s answer. “You’re not even going to give us an explanation?” “No.”

That was the final straw. “Sasha, you’ve been acting weird all morning and now this. If this was the other way around, you wouldn’t drop it until you heard the entire story. Honestly, you’re being selfish right now.” Flower’s words seemed to strike a nerve because Sasha exploded. “Selfish? Do you have any idea what I’ve given for you guys? Do you think that this happy little life of ours can just go on forever? Who do you think will protect us from The Slasher or The Dragon? But you wouldn’t get it because you don’t even go on drops with us!” When she finished, her shoulders rose and fell with her pants. Both Maverick and Bolt gasped, their eyes wide and jaws open. Flower mirrored their expressions but with her brow furrowed in anger. Bolt raised a timid hand in the air. “Guys, maybe we should—” “I think you’re the one who doesn’t know!” Flower screamed back. “For God’s sake, the only reason we still have medicine is because Prince buys it with his gambling money. But every time you catch him, all you do is yell at him even though he risks his life for us!” Flower knew she shouldn’t have revealed that. Prince had begged her to keep it a secret so that Sasha wouldn’t refuse the pills. She braced herself for another round of shouting, but when Sasha looked up at her, she did so with tears. Flower had never seen that look in Sasha’s eyes before. Defeat. “I guess I was never really able to protect you guys then,” Sasha muttered. “I’m sorry about what I said Flower, I didn’t mean it. I’m going to bed.” Without another word, Sasha disappeared inside her tent. Flower gave Bolt and Maverick an unsteady look. Their expressions reflected her own feelings. They were scared.

PRINCE “Hello, Prince.” The voice was soft, whispered directly into his ear. If only I can always wake like this. Prince opened his eyes to a cloudless black sky. Little dots of light twinkled above him as if winking. “Hello, Sasha. Welcome back. What brings you here?” Sasha laid beside him, her fingers wrapped around his own. Strands of her hair tickled his neck. If he could, he would freeze time right now, forever. “It’s a beautiful night,” Sasha said. She gave Prince’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Prince, what will you do now that we’re done?” Prince squeezed back. “Didn’t I tell you already?” “Tell me again.” The slight brush of her arm gave him jitters. “I’ve been thinking of becoming a peddler. I like how it’s like gambling, but I don’t have to risk my life or anything. I think I’d be good at it.” Sasha groaned happily. “You know I wouldn’t have let you become a gambler anyway,” she said with a giggle. “And what of Bolt, what do you think he’ll do?” “Bolt?” Prince scratched his neck. “He hasn’t really talked about it.” Sasha grabbed Prince’s arm in a tight embrace and leaned in so that she was whispering into his ear once again. “What do you imagine he’d do?” Prince’s heart skipped a beat. In panic, his head snapped up, nearly colliding with Sasha’s mouth. “Sorry,” he muttered, and before he could embarrass himself further, he clenched his teeth and forced his head back down. “It’s okay.” Her voice was forgiving. She sent a single finger down his arm, drawing little ovals where it bent. “But Bolt, where do you think he’ll be?” she asked. “He’d probably get a job, one that involves running, like a courier or something. He’ll settle down and maybe even find a girl he likes.” Sasha rested her head on Prince’s shoulder. “I’d like that.”

Prince tilted his head so that it laid on Sasha’s. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” “And what of Flower and Maverick? Do you think they’ll be alright?” Her hushed whisper rose in a manner much like pleading. Prince stopped to think for a bit. “Well, Maverick’s quiet but he knows how to take care of himself. He’ll do whatever he has to and get by. I bet as soon as he can, he’ll leave this place for something he saw on TV. And Flower, she’s a tough girl and even tougher doctor. If I had to bet, I’d say she would set up her own little hospital here. God knows we need them. Sasha, why all these questions. It sounds like – ow!” Prince jerked his head away. “You bit me!” “Shhhh,” Sasha giggled, “You wouldn’t turn toward me.” She sounded like a little girl, even more so than when she had kissed him by the riverbank. “Why did you need me to do that?” Prince massaged the bite mark on his neck. Sasha wrapped a hand around Prince’s neck and brought him in. She pressed her lips against his and climbed on top of him. With a short laugh, she broke the kiss. “So I could thank you, Prince, for everything you’ve done for me, even when I yell at you for it.” “What are you talking about?” Instead of answering, Sasha leaned back in for another kiss. “You’re getting better at this,” she said when she broke off to breathe. “Thanks,” Prince answered breathlessly. Sasha dragged her hands down his chest. She looked down, refusing to match Prince’s gaze. In the silver of the moonlight, it looked as if her eyes were full of tears. It wasn’t until the first tear dropped that Prince realized they actually were. “What’s wrong, Sasha?” It was as if she didn’t realize she was crying. With a quick shake of her head, she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Sorry,” she whispered. Those red eyes returned to Prince, supplemented by a soft smile. “Do you remember what I promised you, Prince?” “What?”

“I promised you that I’d tell you something, when all of this was over.” She bent down and pushed her forehead against Prince’s so their noses touched. “Do you remember what I promised to tell you?” “That you loved me.” The words made Sasha smile. She kissed him again, this time pressed against him like her life depended on it. Prince returned the kiss, but was hardly able to keep up. He turned and escaped the kiss to breathe. Sasha didn’t stop. Her lips continued their attack. “Hey Sasha, slow down.” His words fell on deaf ears. A drop of water fell on his cheek. It felt like frost was sprouting from where it landed. He looked up, half expecting the storm of the century that everyone had been talking about, instead, all he saw was the same cloudless sky he had awoken too. The droplets were coming from Sasha. He felt a tug on his pants, then it was fingers fidgeting with his buttons. The realization sent a shock through his body. “Woah,” Prince whispered loudly. He pushed Sasha off of him. “Sasha, what are you doing?” He stared at her in disbelief. But the sight he saw was even more shocking. Sasha fell onto the ground. She covered her mouth with one hand, little cries escaping from the gaps between her fingers. Fat tears dripped down her cheeks in a steady stream. Her shoulders shuddered. “I’m sorry, Prince.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe herself. It was like being jerked awake from a dream. “Sasha, what’s going on?” Not even at Hawk’s Lair, when half her eye was cut, did she cry like this. Sasha shook her head. “I’ll tell you in the morning,” she said with heavy breaths. “Just please, leave me alone tonight.” And with that, she retreated back into her tent. The soft canvas might as well have been a brick wall stacked a mile high. Prince remained still. His heart raced, but not in the same way as before. Why did that feel like goodbye?

BRYCE “You’re not still mad at me are you?” Bryce asked. Jake made no indication that he had heard the question. He crammed himself deeper into the corner so that only his back was to Bryce. All around him were broken syringes, remnants of his fights with Number One and Two. It looked like he was sleeping on a bed of glass shards. “C’mon Jake, if you fought half as hard against Mice as you did Number One and Two, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” In the other corner, Number One and Two were panting to catch their breath. Bruises and scratches littered their bodies. Watching them trying to stick Jake had become a favorite pastime of Bryce’s. Today, Jake had won by a mile. “You can’t keep giving me the cold shoulder, Jake.” Bryce rocked back and forth in his chair. “It’s annoying.” Ever since the conversation had died, it had been pretty boring. Bryce found himself missing their exchanges. The table he sat at felt particularly empty without Jake snorting drugs off it. Bryce grabbed the pack of drugs they had and walked over to Jake. The closer he got to Jake, the stronger Jake’s smell became. It held the sour smell of sewage as well as the bitterness of medicine. The air even tasted different around Jake. “Hey buddy,” he said, making sure to breathe as little as possible. “I brought your favorite.” Bryce waved the yellow package over Jake. A few small grains of powder trickled out onto him. Jake turned deeper into the corner. His back was covered in blisters and spots of raw skin. An ashen black color blanketed whatever didn’t have pus oozing out or looked like a meat you would buy in the streets. He still hadn’t changed clothes since that night. “Don’t worry, the medicine is on its way. If you’re good, I’ll even let you have some.” Bryce frowned when there was no response. To be ignored by someone so much weaker than him was an insult. He tossed the drugs back onto the rotting table and crossed his arms.

“Hey Jake, don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far? I mean, you act like there’s nothing I can do to you.” This caught Jake’s attention. It was only a slight shift, but enough for Bryce to notice. Bryce smiled and spiked his words with even more malice. “I mean, nobody’s coming to save you. If you bore me too much, I’ll just throw you away. So let’s –” Three sharp knocks on the door interrupted Bryce. With a small sigh, he turned and retrieved the brown bag left in front of their door. It was unusually heavy. Bryce ripped the bag open and dumped its contents out onto the table. To his surprise, a gun clanged against the wood. “Holy shit.” Bryce whistled. He frowned as he inspected the weapon. It felt cold to the touch. The handle fit in his hand perfectly. Beside it was an unopened letter bearing the seal of The Boss. Bryce stopped playing with the gun and ripped the letter open. A picture popped out and floated onto the ground. “Damn,” Bryce muttered. He bent over to pick up the picture and froze, a smile spreading across his face. Two scarlet eyes stared back at him from the ground. Bryce laughed and returned to the letter. “To everyone,” he read. “Tomorrow, the target will be delivering a drop to the address provided. Kill her.” He took one look at the address and threw his head back in laughter. Somehow, everything had fallen into place.

SASHA “And if I think, even for a second, that anyone in your little group of Mice knows our secret, I’ll kill them all.” Sasha opened her eyes to the sound of The Dragon’s voice. She was alone in her tent and The Dragon far away. Yet, she could still hear him just as clearly as in Hawk’s Lair. If push came to shove, he wouldn’t blink twice before killing everyone she loved. The past twenty-four hours felt like a dream, some horrid fantasy she had yet to wake from. She scraped her nails against her skin with brief hope that she would awaken. Instead, it only proved she was already awake. “I’m sorry guys,” she whispered. “It’s all my fault.” The wind whistled outside to the soft percussion of rain. Sasha climbed out of her blankets and shivered. Normally, the chill would be enough to convince her to snuggle back under the covers, but she had a deal to keep. One last drop to decide it all, that was the deal that released her from Hawk’s Lair. If she could deliver the medicine to some kid that burned his back, her family would complete the contract and earn enough to escape this place. In return, she promised to take The Dragon’s secret to the grave. And if she knew anything about The Dragon, she wouldn’t have to keep his secret for long. Sasha stepped outside into a grey world. Nobody but her was awake. The black clouds blanketing the sky looked like thick smoke. The only color in this world seemed to be the umbrellas above her. She looked up and watched the rain falling on them. Each umbrella colored the rain droplets in its own unique way. How long she stood there just gazing at their roof, she didn’t know. Sasha reached into her pocket and brought out a bag of pills. She sniffed loudly. “C’mon now, haven’t you been crying a little too much?” she asked herself with a smile. Her attempt at humor didn’t lighten the atmosphere. Nothing could distract her from the fact that she had put her family into harm’s way. Perhaps because everyone had considered her their savior, even she had believed it. Now, nothing was further from the truth and the realization felt like a boulder crushing the air from her lungs.

“You owe them this,” Sasha whispered. She put the bag of pills back in her pocket and left. At Project Persist, anyone else would’ve just taken the money. Why do I have to be like this? Sasha stepped out from under the cover of their home. The rain felt like ice. She pressed on until she reached the end of the alley. As she neared the open streets, the wind picked up into a hurricane. She reached a hand outside the protective shield of the alley walls to test the storm. Her hand whipped around until it was back by her side. You swore you’d protect them… “But I can’t,” Sasha answered herself with a sad smile. When previously she had doubts, now she was entirely convinced. What was she supposed to do against a monster like The Slasher? How could she fend off the soldiers of The Dragon? All she had left to give was a final successful drop. If this was her punishment for failing them, she gladly received it. As long as she was the one being punished. Sasha clasped her hands together and for the first time in her life, she prayed. “God,” she whispered, tears spilling from her eyes. “If you can really grant wishes, this is the only thing I’ll ever ask for. Make the storm rage. Keep my family from coming after me. Even if it costs me everything, I beg of you, keep them home. Keep them safe.” She wiped her eyes and with a deep breath, stepped into the monsoon. Her hair blew behind her, dragging her backwards. Even with her hands shielding her eyes, she could barely keep them open. The rain crashed into her, each drop like the sting of a bee. At times, it even smothered her breath. Sasha smiled.

Only a few minutes passed before Sasha found herself needing rest. Already, murky brown water covered her toes. Her tank top clung to her skin like tape. The howl of the wind was the deafening shriek of God Himself, or an answered prayer. She ducked into an alley to catch her breath. In the alley, the water turned to a disgusting yellow and green. Leaking trash bags became little hoses for their rotting insides to escape.

“Hey!” a scratchy female voice called out. Sasha turned to see a green hooded figure at the end of the alley. It slowly made its way toward her. The figure kept its head down so that Sasha couldn’t see its face. “Are you a Mouse?” the same female voice came from this hooded person. Sasha’s breath caught in her throat. “No,” she lied. She slowly stepped backwards. When the hooded woman had made it halfway down the alley, she lifted her head to reveal a plain white mask. A Lion! Why? “Red eyes!” The Lion shrieked. It took a second for Sasha to process what just happened. When she did, she tore down the alley back into the open streets. But the streets were no longer empty. Scattered throughout the streets were various figures cloaked in hooded green raincoats. They were both in front and behind her, cutting off every alley, entrance, and exit. “What the fuck,” Sasha muttered to herself. She saw the orange flash and then heard the explosion. It was the same sound she had heard at Hawk’s Lair, but feint from the wind. Her shoulder jerked backwards and flared with pain. She clutched her shoulder only for it to burn even hotter. Before she knew it, she had collapsed onto one knee. “I got her!” a male voice screamed. “It’s over, Mouse!” “Like hell it is,” Sasha muttered to herself. She grit her teeth and squeezed her bleeding shoulder. “Who the hell… do you think I am?”

GUNTHER The gun shook wildly against the wind. Gunther gripped it with all his strength but could not stabilize it. Clenching his eyes shut, he pulled the trigger. Thunder escaped from the barrel, its power coursing up his arm. He hadn’t imagined such a small gun to kick like this. When he opened his eyes, the red-eyed Mouse had fallen to one knee. She clutched her shoulder while staring at the ground. “I got her!” Gunther couldn’t believe it, he almost didn’t want to. For not having ever fired a gun before, he had never expected his bullet to actually connect. Now that it did, he wasn’t sure how to react. “It’s over, Mouse!” he shouted only because it was an appropriate response for a Lion. “Why the fuck did you shoot?” Shae screamed. “What if you missed and hit someone? The Boss specifically told us not to involve anyone else!” “Well, I didn’t.” Gunther replied. “The bullet hit.” There was no way he would tell her that the only reason he was able to pull the trigger was because he thought he would miss. The bartender had introduced him to Shae and told him that she was to look after him for his first few jobs as a Lion. “Please, you barely grazed her. Let’s just finish this and go home,” Shae shook her head and stepped out the alley with her own pistol out. “I’ll give you the pleasure.” The houses around them lit up one by one. The gunshot must’ve awoken people. Gunther stepped toward the Mouse. Each progressive step came heavier than the last. The red-eyed Mouse stayed on her knee. Around them, the other Lions closed in, each had their gun drawn. There was no escaping. Gunther brought up his gun to the Mouse’s head, shaking as he did. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. I owe Lissandra this. The red-eyed Mouse brought her head up to face him. She glared at him, unafraid. For a second, Gunther swore that her eyes were as green as Lissandra’s. He shook his head to dispel the illusion.

Pull. But his finger didn’t have the strength. The gun itself seemed to be resisting him. It shook uncontrollably, growing heavier. Gunther bit into his bottom teeth. Pull! And nothing happened. An orange glow caught his peripherals. He turned to see the house next to him open its doors. At the doorway was a single man, his face wrinkly and limbs like bones. Fading white hair parted at the top of his head to reveal dark blotches of skin. All he had on was a pair of boxers. “What is this?” The old man exclaimed. The Mouse slapped his gun away and jumped up. Before Gunther could bring the gun back, the Mouse flung a handful of mud into his face. He clawed the mud from his eyes just in time to see the Mouse crash through the door into the old man’s home. “You idiot!” Shae screamed and ran past him. Her arm stretched out in a mad attempt to grab the Mouse. Just as her hand entered the house, the door slammed shut on her fingers with a bone crunching crack. Shae let out a bloodcurdling scream and dropped her gun. She held onto her fingers as if they would fall apart if not for her grip. The door rebounded open just enough for a muddy foot to shoot into her face. She fell backwards and splashed into the street. In two steps, Gunther barreled through the door into what looked to be a living room. There was a dusty couch turned toward a television on one side of the wall and at the end of this room, a tiny window to chuck trash into the alley. His eyes adjusted to the glaring lightbulbs and caught the Mouse crawling out of this window. Gunther ran to it and jammed his torso through. If aiming was hard before, it was impossible now. Half his body hung out the window at an awkward angle. With a grunt, he pushed against the window frame, but it was no use, he was too large. “The Mouse escaped!” he heard excited voices behind him. Gunther bolted out of the house. Lightning streaked across the sky followed by the immediate sound of an explosion that dwarfed any gunshot ever fired. The rain came down like little icicles and the wind drowned out all the noise around him. Already, the other Lions were in full sprints. He counted six ahead of him and one behind. He turned back briefly to see Shae crying on the ground. Her mask was off, half of it

sunk into the water. She was screaming at him. He couldn’t hear it, but he could read her lips. “Help.” Beside her was another man, tall with lanky arms. He wore the mask of a Lion, but without the green raincoat. His mask held a dark red smile and his hand, a twisting blade. All the more reason to keep going.

SASHA The main streets had become a cluster of flying debris and furniture. Anything unsecured was picked up by the wind and thrown into whoever was unfortunate enough to be outside. Rain had flooded the streets, its water reaching well past Sasha’s ankles. She pressed herself against the garbage bin, praying after each flash of lightning that nobody would find her. This was the first time in ten minutes of ducking and weaving that she had found herself alone. She peeked over the trash bin. Lightning split the sky in two and in that second, she saw an alley devoid of any trash. This was what wealth brought, shiny metal garbage bins emptied weekly. At the end of this alley stood a Lion. A second flash of lightning illuminated the Lion’s back. Before its thunder had finished roaring, Sasha charged the Lion’s back. “Out of my way!” she screamed and lunged at the green raincoat in front of her. She crashed into the Lion and tumbled onto the ground. Before the Lion could get his bearings, Sasha rolled onto her feet and was already up and running. It’s too dangerous to use main roads. She turned the corner into the alley and screeched to a halt. A plain white mask stared back at her. Both of them jumped backwards. “Shit,” a female voice muttered from behind the mask. She reached into her pocket, fumbling for her weapon. Sasha didn’t wait, she turned back into the main road and sprinted away. She heard thunder coming from the alley and understood that it was a gun. Ahead of her, Lions poured from the alleys, converging toward the gunfire. There were no alleys to escape into, only a wall of houses. Without a second’s hesitation, she skirted toward a house. Sasha rammed her body into its rotting door, but it refused to budge. A bullet rammed itself into the door, sending an explosion of splinters into Sasha’s face. She jerked to the side and twisted around. A blank white mask stared back, a gun pointed at her.

Shit! A wooden stool crashed into the Lion, flung by the wind. It broke on impact. The Lion tumbled into the water. Before she could get back up, Sasha was upon her. Sasha pressed her head under the water while wrestling with the gun with her other hand. Debris slammed against Sasha’s head. It was all it took for the Lion to flip Sasha under her. Though Sasha’s eyes were open, she could barely see through the water. All she saw was a flurry of bubbles. A single hand held her down. Sasha kicked the ground and pushed against the hand, but she was too weak, and only getting weaker. She grasped the ground around her, digging her nails into whatever she could find. Her fingers rapped around something solid and long. With the last of her energy she jammed it into the Lion’s arm. The Lion screamed and fell backwards. Sasha shot up into the air. She took a mighty breath before coughing it all back out. The Lion crunched over trembling. What Sasha had found was the broken leg of a stool. It had pierced the Lion’s thin arm. A dribble of blood crawled down the wood into the murky waters below. There was no time to lose, with every passing second, the other Lions came closer. Sasha ran back to the rotting door and tackled it. The door cracked but didn’t open. She stepped backwards and stomped at the door. Tiny splinters dug into her heel, digging deeper with every stomp. Two arms grabbed Sasha and propelled her through the door in an explosion of wood. They fell onto the bare ground into the house, a new Lion on top of Sasha. “Stop squirming!” the Lion commanded. “Get out of my house!” a man screamed. Sasha heard the sound of hollow metal and suddenly, the Lion released her. The Lion screamed and rolled over writhing on the ground. Her back lurched forward and her arms crumpled into her. Sasha scrambled up just in time to see a metal bat flying toward her. She felt its breeze as the bat scraped by her face. “This is your last warning, get out of my house,” the man with the bat said.

The man was short, but his muscles stretched the holes in his t-shirt. He held the bat up as if it was a sword. His arms shook and his knuckles turned white. Behind him in the living room, two small pairs of eyes peeked over the couch. “She has a gun,” Sasha motioned at the Lion. The owner’s eyes darted to the Lion and in this moment, Sasha lunged at him. Both hands clung to his bat. She pulled with all her might, but only managed to spin them. With a small grunt, the man shoved her backwards, deeper into his home. Sasha stumbled back before tripping over the small table in the living room. Two shrill screams filled the house in a steady note. “Get away from my kids!” The owner ran at her with the bat raised above his head. Sasha rolled off it just in time to dodge the bat. It slammed into the wooden table, breaking it in two. Before she get could up, the man’s shadow swallowed her, his bat raised and ready. “Okay, stop!” Sasha clenched her eyes shut and put out her hands. “Leave.” Sasha slowly opened her eyes. “I will. Just calm down.” “Don’t break into my house and tell me to calm down,” the man snarled back. The door behind him swung open and another Lion stepped through. The two kids shrieked louder than ever. With a mighty roar, the father flung his bat at the Lion. It hits it mark, splitting the Lion’s mask in two. The lion crumpled to the ground, but as soon as he fell, another walked in. The owner roared and charged the next Lion. Sasha darted her eyes around the room, finding the window she was looking for. She climbed over the couch, over the two boys still crying, and landed in front of the trash window. Behind her, the kids’ father wrestled with the invading lions. There was nothing more in this world Sasha wanted than to help him, but she also had people she needed to protect. She opened the window and crawled out of it straight into the garbage bin below. To her surprise, she fell into water deep enough to submerge her entire body. The garbage bin only held a few black bags at its bottom, but gallons of water. She pushed herself up, spluttering out sour water as she broke the surface to breathe.

“I knew you’d pull this stunt again.” It was the same Lion that had shot her. Sasha closed her eyes as the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her head.

GUNTHER Gunther waited behind the metal trash bin. Its green had long ago faded away until all that was left was the orange hue of rust. Beside him, kids were screaming through the wall. He could hear the owner of the house yelling at the Lions breaking in. He understood well. If anyone were to ever threaten Lissandra or Leon, he’d be in as much of a frenzy. The window above him opened and then he heard a splash as someone fell into the garbage bin in front of him. Gunther frowned and gripped the cold iron of his gun. He had never considered himself a Lion, only a brother, one guilty of failing his sister when she needed him the most. He stood and brought the nose of his gun to the Mouse’s wet hair. “I knew you’d pull this stunt again.” His fingers twitched on the trigger. Just like before, the gun seemed heavier and the trigger harder to pull. Despite the chilling wind, sweat accumulated on his brow. “My name is Sasha,” the Mouse responded with a shaky voice. She slowly moved to turn her head toward him. “Don’t you move!” Gunther roared. The Mouse stopped. Rain beat down on Gunther but he felt none of it. It was all he could do just to breathe correctly. He brought his other hand to the gun to stop it from wobbling. “Are you waiting for me to beg?” The Mouse asked. “Because I’m not going to beg.” “Mouse, I’m going to kill you.” “Like I said, my name’s Sasha. At least have the guts to face me when you shoot.” The Mouse began to turn. “Stop or I’ll shoot! Mouse!” But the Mouse ignored him. She turned until her ruby eyes looked him straight in the face. “You’re going to shoot me regardless,” she reminded him. “You better hurry, Lion.” The word felt like a spear through his stomach. Gunther ripped the mask off his face and held his gun with renewed vigor. “I’m sorry, Mouse.” He couldn’t tell if it were tears or rain in his eye. “This is for my little sister.”

Pull! His fingers didn’t move. Pull. The gun just quivered in his hand. Pull… “Stop.” Gunther looked up to see another a tall and lanky silhouette. He rubbed the water from his eyes and saw a Lion’s mask with a red smile. There was no mistaking it, this was the man he had seen last with Shae. The man held a gun in one hand and a twisting knife in the other. Gunther wasn’t sure which he was more scared of. “Who are you?” Gunther asked, but he had a pretty good idea. “You know who I am,” The Slasher responded. “The real question you should ask is: why am I here?” Gunther swallowed. “Why are you here?” “For you,” The Slasher answered gleefully. “I can see your hands trembling, you’re not a killer. You look more like the victim.” “You don’t know me.” But even as he said the words, the gun twitched in his grip. The white mask tilted until The Slasher’s ears nearly touched his shoulder. “I was born a killer, raised by killers and trained to be one. You are not one of us.” Gunther pushed his gun into the red-eyed Mouse’s forehead. “Don’t test me.” The Slasher looked back calmly. “Would you like a way out?” “There are none.” The Slasher took a step toward him, his eyes laughing behind his mask. “I can make one.” “Stop!” The gun jerked toward The Slasher. It shook with Gunther’s rising breaths. “What’s the point of having a gun if you can’t pull the trigger?” “Your way out, there’s a catch isn’t there?” asked Gunther. The Slasher slapped his mask with the hand that held his knife and bent over laughing. When he calmed down, he looked Gunther straight in the eyes. “Only thieves and gods ask for nothing in return. I want the Mouse. What do you want?” “Money, enough to feed my family.”

“I can give you that.” “You don’t even know how much that is?” The Slasher tilted his head to his other shoulder. “I’m the Slasher, I don’t care how much it is.” Gunther reached into his pocket and fished out a wet letter. He threw it onto the ground by the Slasher’s feet. “I was already promised a lot of money for this girl’s life. Why should I take your deal over mine?” The Slasher shrugged. “Because once you’re dead, who will take care of your family?” “From where I’m standing, it seems like I’m already dead.” The Slasher shook his head, as if disappointed. “My reputation has taken a life of its own. I have never before in my life killed anyone that didn’t deserve it. If there is no victim, then there is no justice. You are yet to be worthy of my justice. But say you were to shoot this Mouse right now…” His sentence ended in a deep growl. Gunther’s shoulders ached. He looked back down at the Mouse shivering inside the garbage bin. Her hair matted to her forehead as she hugged herself to keep warm. He hadn’t thought about it before, but the Mouse was about the same age as Lissandra. She could be someone else’s little sister. “Okay,” Gunther whispered. He let his tired arms drop. “I’ll need an address.” The Slasher said. “Just give me three days to get the money. Until then, I need you to” —he raised his gun and fired.

SASHA Sasha screamed. Her ears rang a high pitch as the gunshot slowly faded. When she had back her hearing, she turned toward The Slasher. “What was that?” She peered over the edge of the garbage bin at Gunther. The bullet had hit Gunther’s head, collapsing his nose into his face. Pieces of skin split off into his skull and blood darker than any she’s ever seen poured out. “I lied to him.” The Slasher shrugged. “Obviously.” “Why’d you have to shoot him? He was leaving!” “He shot you.” Sasha climbed out of the garbage bin and plopped down by Gunther. She pressed an ear to his chest. Nothing. She could smell his wound, a sickly sour smell that mixed with the rain water to produce a nauseating scent. She pressed her ear harder against his chest. “Don’t bother. You can’t save this one Sasha.” He’s right. She stood up and punched the garbage bin with a hollow thud. “God damn it!” “God didn’t do this.” “How can you be so calm right now?” Sasha shouted. She crouched down by the corpse once called Gunther. One second he was a human, a brother and son; the next, just a mass of meat. The Slasher knelt next to her. “It’s just not that big of a deal. Sasha, we need to—” Sasha grabbed Gunther’s gun and pushed it into The Slasher’s red smile. “Not a big deal?” The Slasher paused for a second to register what was happening. Then he laughed. “This is what makes you break your code? A Lion?” His shoulders shook with each laugh. He pushed back against the nose of her gun with his mask. “Unbelievable!” “I won’t let you take life so casually.” She slipped the gun next to The Slasher’s ear and pulled the trigger.

The Slasher shrieked and jerked away from the gun. He pressed both hands against his right ear and fell into the water. “You bitch!” he screamed, rolling on the floor shrieking. Sasha dropped Gunther’s gun and took off. Fuck! Nothing had gone right about the drop. The weather. The Lions. The Slasher. It was as if she was fighting some divine being hell-bent on stopping her. Sasha ran, but not very fast. The wind pressed against her and the water slowed her steps. When she felt unable to take even another step, she ducked into an alley and collapsed. There, huddled next to the trash, she hugged her knees into her body. Because of her, one, maybe two families were destroyed. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen to the kids afterwards. She knew first-hand how this world treated its orphans. Perhaps this was what happened to Prince or Flower, perhaps she was the villain. She shook the thoughts out of her head. Guilt was a luxury she couldn’t yet afford. There was plenty of time for that after she saved her family. She turned the corner and kept going. In less than ten minutes, she reached her destination, a clay building with its windows boarded up and paint chipped away. I made it. For the first time in a long while, she let herself relax. An overhanging roof protected her from the rain. The building itself blocked the wind, only letting through a breeze. The street’s slope prevented any flooding, providing what seemed to be the driest street throughout the slums. She combed her fingers through her hair, tugging away rough knots. It felt like rope. Still, she kept at it until her hair fell semi-flat down her back. Good enough. She chuckled at herself. It was a stupid sentiment, but she wanted to look good when she finished the drop. With a deep breath, she gave the door three quick knocks. Slow and heavy footsteps approached the door. Each step brought a small flutter to Sasha’s heart. Her eyes filled with happy tears. “Hello,” she called out when the footsteps stopped at the door.

This is where it’ll all be worth it. The door opened the slightest bit and a single eye peeked through the crack. “What do you want?” The voice was gruff and harsh, as if accusing her of something. Sasha ignored his tone and instead mustered up the biggest smile she could. “It’s Sasha, I’m the Mouse. I’m here with the medicine you requested. Sorry for the delay, I ran into a bit of –” “Slide it through.” The man behind the door instructed. Sasha nodded and held the Ziploc bag through the crack in the door. A hand snatched the medicine from her hand and the door slammed shut. Its edges scraping her fingers. Sasha stood in shock, staring at the chipped paint of a rotting door. The happy tears that once filled her eyes were replaced with the tears she was more accustomed to. She rubbed her eyes dry and sighed a single waning note. And as her sigh died, so did her smile. “You’re welcome,” she muttered to nobody and left.

No. Sasha stopped mid-step and spun back in front of the door. No fucking way. She clenched her fists into wrecking balls and hammered at the door. Each strike shook the door as if it was about to fall from its hinges. It hurt. Though the door was rotting, its frigid wood still felt like stone. Even so, Sasha kept hitting it. “What do you want?” the same harsh voice answered. The door opened the slightest bit. Sasha was prepared this time. She jammed her foot through the crack and grabbed the edges of the door. “What do I want?” she grunted and fought to pry the door open. “We Mice risk our lives for you. We get beaten and cut for you. We die for you! So don’t you dare close this door on me, not before you look me in the eye and thank us for all that we’ve done!” “Stop it!”

Sasha swung the door open and stumbled inside the house. She stopped herself right before her foot hit a broken needle. The entire place smelled of antiseptic mixed with a human musk. In one corner were two boys asleep, in another was a stained mattress on top of a pile of empty syringes. On the floor right in front of her sat Jake.

JAKE No matter how hard Jake pushed against the door, he felt himself slowly losing ground. “Stop it!” he screamed. The door swung open and pushed him to the floor. He hit the floor with the sound of crunching glass. Luckily, nothing cut him. He slipped an unused syringe into his pocket. Sunlight streamed through the door, burning his retinas. He held his hands up to shield his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen sunlight. Now that was staring right at it, he didn’t miss it. “You?” Sasha screamed at him. “This was all for you?” “Fucking Mouse,” Jake grumbled. “What do you want from me?” Sasha grabbed his collar and yanked him off the ground. She held his face just inches from her own. In a single step, she hauled him outside into the rain and slammed him against the wall. The blow knocked the breath out of Jake. Worse, the scabs on his back scraped against the wood, sparking pain throughout his body. He grit his teeth and his fingers wrapped around his hidden syringe. No way he’d go quietly. But nothing happened. The Mouse simply stared him down as rain beat upon them. It was as if she was waiting for something. “What?” Jake answered her stare. “Do you want me to promise to be forever grateful, to give up my life as a Hawk? Or would you rather I beg you for those pills? Neither is happening.” “No, I want a thank you. I don’t care who you are, if you’re sick, I’ll get you your medicine because I’m a Mouse. But we Mice go through hell to get you these pills. The least you can do is thank us!” Sasha paused. Her next words came in a whisper, “Even if you don’t mean it.” Jake stared back at the one Mouse he once wanted to kill. “God, you’re annoying.” “Do you think I want to be here right now?” Sasha released her grip on Jake. “Nobody’s forcing you to.”

Sasha shook her head, looking at him as if he was a child. “You don’t get it, Hawk, because you’ve never had family you could call your own. This is a fucked up world where people do fucked up things, but if I can keep that from them, then I’d say I did alright.” “So you chose to become a Mouse?” “I chose to show them that the world isn’t so bad, despite all the bad in it.” She sighed with a waning grin. “At least that’s what I wanted.” It wasn’t the words themselves, but how genuine they sounded that left Jake in awe. One look at the Mouse and he knew she meant every syllable. Jake let go of the syringe in his pocket. “Stupid.” Jake muttered through grit teeth. “Beyond stupid. You’re just trying to show them a fantasy world, to trick them into believing in a world that doesn’t exist. The best thing for anyone in this place is to see it for what it truly is.” For how loud Jake screamed, when Sasha spoke, he could barely hear her. “Even so,” she said. “I won’t place my bets on such a hopeless world. There’s nothing wrong with betting against the odds. Even if it’s just a pipe dream.” “It’s not a bet if you have no chance of winning! That’s what you call suicide!” Sasha smacked the wall with her palm, trapping Jake within her arms. Her eyes went wide. “I don’t care if I can only lose! How sad is it that not a single person will hope for a better tomorrow? Even if it makes me a fool, even if isn’t right, I won’t accept it!” “Even if you already know the outcome?” The Mouse looked down and once again, her voice died. “It’s because I know the outcome that I have to.” “You’ll never win. Your fantasy isn’t right!” “But it’s not wrong.” She replied in a fading breath and her arms dropped back to her sides. “That’s not good enough! It won’t end well and when it does, nobody will be better off,” Jake yelled. “Pretending otherwise is stupid, hoping for more is stupid. This is the place we were born, it’s the fate we were given! How can you go through life knowing that you’ll lose and still wake up every morning?”

Her eyes glistened. The words came out in barely a whisper. Jake couldn’t even hear most of them, but he could read her lips. “Because my dream’s not wrong.” “But—” Jake held his tongue. These were the same beliefs that had been beaten out of him. From the day he was born, he had learned the true nature of this world. Everyone had, except this girl. We all used to be like her. Jake held up the bag of pills Sasha had given him. He opened his mouth to talk but stumbled over his words. There was a lump in his throat and he found his hands trembling by his sides. It was his turn to stare at the ground. “As soon as I get better Mouse, I’m coming for you on your next drop. I won’t show you any mercy.” She nodded. “Don’t think I’ll hold back either. I’ll kill you if you don’t give me the pills.” She nodded again. “Fuck.” Jake mumbled. He looked up to see her patiently waiting. Maybe it was that he hadn’t eaten in days, or the aftereffects of the drugs, but Jake couldn’t summon his rage. At last, he gave up. “But until then… thanks.” Sasha broke into a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

BRYCE Bryce slowly clapped his hands as he came out of hiding. Every clap sprayed water into the air in a wet smack. “Bravo, red-eyed Mouse. You got him to talk! I was starting to think that he never would,” Bryce said. Sasha returned Bryce a confused look. Jake, on the other hand, fell to the floor. His face drained of whatever color was left in it as he huddled against the wall. Bryce chuckled in response. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t know who I am.” “Are you a Hawk? If that’s the case, the drop is over.” Sasha’s hands curled into tiny fists. “No.” Bryce shook his head. “Not tonight I’m not.” “Then, a Lion?” “Sort of, but I would say I’m more of a friend of a friend.” Bryce thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. In one pocket was Jake’s knife, in the other, his gun. “Which friend?” “I believe he goes by Maverick now, but when I knew him, his name was Vlad.” Sasha raised her brow and put one hand on her hip. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time. Who are you exactly?” “Like I said, I’m a friend of his from back in the day.” Sasha frowned. “He had no friends back then.” “Then I suppose, a fan?” Bryce took both his hands out of his jacket, along with the weapons inside. “Back then, they called me Bryce. Unlike him, I kept the name and I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.” Sasha’s eyes veered to the gun in his hand. “Nobody’s pretending.”

“We were born warriors.” Bryce said, increasing in volume with every word. A smile spread across his face. “We were gladiators, killers for sport, the best this city’s ever seen. Do you honestly believe we can just drop it all?” “Maybe you can’t, but Mav is stronger than that.” Bryce let out a single exaggerated laugh. “Let me tell you something, Mouse, people don’t change. The situations around us change and we act differently because of it, but put us back where we started and we’ll turn right back into the monsters we were born as.” “So, what do you want from me?” Sasha asked. “If you’re just here to lecture me, I’ll be leaving.” Bryce held up his gun, aimed directly at Sasha’s heart. “I want Vlad back.” “Killing me won’t bring him back.” “Maybe not, but he gave me a list that might. Prince. Flower. Bolt. And you.” Bryce paused between each name, allowing Sasha to fully grasp its meaning before he moved on. She winced after each one, as if stung. “So, what are you going to do, Mouse?” Sasha gave Bryce a look of uncertainty. It looked good on her. “Isn’t it obvious? I’ll stop you.” “How? You look like you can barely stand.” To Bryce’s surprise, Sasha smiled back at him. “You have no idea what I’ve done to protect my family. Compared to that, this will be a walk in the park.” Bryce walked up to Sasha, his gun raised. “I don’t think so.” Sasha stood like a statue. Even when he pressed his gun against her chest, she stayed still. Though her breaths became deeper and her heart beat faster and her lips quivered and her eyes watered, she held her ground. Bryce stared at her, his gun pressed so hard against her chest that he could feel the pounding of her heart. “Are you ready, red-eyed Mouse?” Bryce pressed a button on the gun and its magazine fell onto the ground. He dropped the gun and put the knife back into his pocket. Sasha crunched her brow. “Did you change your—”

He swung his fist in an uppercut into her chin. Her head snapped back and blood spewed from her mouth as she fell onto the floor. Bryce let out a steady breath watching her crawl back up. “I hate guns. A single piece of metal can convince weak men they are strong. The only thing to do then, is to show them how truly weak they are.” Bryce waited for Sasha to stand. As soon as she was up, he launched a jab into her stomach. Her abdomen collapsed against his knuckles. Sasha bent over and croaked out a small stream of clear liquid. Before she was done throwing up, Bryce threw a wild punch into her temple and knocked her back onto the floor. “That right there,” Bryce said, “was Vlad’s favorite move. One of those and the fight was over, all that was left to do was to kill the other boy.” Sasha pushed herself off the ground only to fall to one knee. Bryce shook his head and spat on the ground. “Get up.” He grabbed a clump of Sasha’s hair and hauled her up. “Let me show you how Vlad used to kill.” Sasha raised her arms to guard herself, but they were too frail. So Bryce hit her, again and again. Her head was a pendulum with her hair as the string. The first hit sent blood gushing down her nose. The second swelled up her left eye. The third cut her lips. Again and again he pummeled her face until her arms fell to her sides and her eyes rolled back. Even then, he kept going. “How weak are you?” Bryce giggled in between punches. “I thought you were going to stop me!” Bryce winced at a prick in his leg. It felt like a small mosquito. He looked down to see Jake crawling on the ground. Despite his pathetic position, his teeth were clamped shut and he had a look of purpose. And in his hand was an empty syringe.

SASHA Sasha dropped to the floor and crumpled onto her side. It felt like she was floating on a cloud. Just keeping her eyes open proved difficult. The only indication that she was still alive was the raspy breaths that came out of her nostrils. “… Fucking traitor…” It was too hard to make out the entire sentence but she could hear bits and pieces of it. The voice belonged to Bryce. “… Kill you…” Bryce again. Who is he talking to? Sasha squinted at the two blurry figures, one on the ground, the other standing. “…How dare you…” Little by little, her hearing became better until she could hear Jake’s soft grunts. Her vision cleared enough to see Bryce repeatedly kicking Jake. Why are they fighting? “…Weak! Fucking weak!” Bryce screamed. He bent down with his fist raised and crashed it into Jake. Sasha let her head rest on the ground. Her swollen cheeks burned on contact with the floor. One of her eyes had swollen shut and the other was threatening to close at any moment. The world dimmed. She reached out with one hand in a feeble attempt to push herself up and hit something that felt like ice. The gun. Sasha grabbed it and pulled herself off the ground. The gun was heavy, so heavy it took both hands to hoist. With a grunt, she hauled it in front of her. Her body swayed as if she was drunk. She was unable to see anything more than shadows in the distance. She angled the gun toward the shadow and pulled the trigger. But the trigger wouldn’t budge. Sasha cried out as he squeezed as hard as she could. The trigger remained up. I’m too weak to even pull the trigger…

A shadow stood up and turned toward her, attracted by her cries. “You’re still up?” Bryce’s voice was an echo carried by some distant wind. Sasha grunted as she squeezed with all her might. She put both her fingers on the trigger and pulled. It moved, but only slightly. Bryce came close enough for her to see him. His shirt was splattered with blood and his hand looked like he had dipped it in red paint. Clenched in his fist was a bloody knife. He limped as if one of his legs had fallen asleep. Bryce stood over Sasha with his knife raised. With a roar, he sent it down. Sasha rolled onto her back to avoid the blow. But she was too slow, the knife slashed through her thigh like it was paper. Sasha shrieked and pulled down the trigger. The gun ignited and cocked back in her hand, shooting off the last bullet left in its chamber. The pain consumed her. It was all she could feel and all she could think about. She dropped the gun and clutched her thigh, screaming her throat raw. Blood gushed onto her fingers and the floor. It came in torrents and spilled everywhere. How long she was like this, she couldn’t tell. I can’t do this. She felt a prick in her arm and the pain lessened. “Don’t fall asleep.” Jake’s voice said right beside her. She felt herself being dragged up against a wall. “I can’t stop the bleeding.” Sasha opened her eyes to see a trail of stained earth. It looked like a giant red snake was making its way up her leg. Even now, a small puddle was forming around her. “Look at me, Mouse.” Sasha turned to see Jake with cracked and bloody lips. His nose bent awkwardly and whenever he opened his mouth, she could see teeth missing. “Did you hear all that?” Jake asked. Sasha nodded slowly. I’m bleeding too much. You can’t stop it. I’m going to die.

“I’m sorry, Mouse. I’m going to give you something for the pain. It’s the last that I have, if you live through this, don’t let The Dragon see you with these. I have to go…” his voice trailed off. Sasha turned away from him and looked at Bryce, motionless on the ground, a puddle of blood under him. Sasha closed her eyes.

VLAD Vlad ran toward the screams. Even only able to hear out of a single ear, those screams were unmistakable. It was the one scream he had hoped never to hear. “Sasha!” he yelled. He stumbled through the alleys, nearly tripping over his own feet. Ever since the gunshot that robbed him of half his hearing, his balance had also been shaky. With panting breaths, he left the alley walls into the main street. The screams disappeared in a final piercing shriek. Vlad scrambled toward the noise until finally, he found her. His heart skipped a beat. Propped up against the wall was Sasha, sitting in a pool of blood. Her hair masked her face like a bridal veil. In front of her laid Bryce, face down in red dirt. “Sasha.” Vlad called out. He ran to her. To his relief, her eyelids lifted. “It’s you,” she muttered in a dream-like state. “Is it sad I’m actually relieved to see you?” “I’m going to get you help.” “No.” She pulled her hair back behind her head to reveal a swollen eye and bloody nose. Except for the purple bruise and splatters of blood, her face was ashen white. “Stop. Please, just stay with me.” She choked on the words as tears fell down her swollen cheeks. Vlad stared at her awestruck. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “Listen, everything’s going to be alright.” Tears filled the eyehole of his mask, swallowing the world with water. “Liar.” Vlad looked away. “I’ve always tried to live without regrets,” Sasha muttered. “I said and did what I thought was best. So tell me, why is it that I have so many right now?” Her question ended in a silent sob. “How is that even fair?”

“It’s not,” Vlad replied, in a volume barely higher than Sasha’s. He didn’t have the willpower to say much more. Anything else, and he would bawl until his tears dried up. “I messed up.” Sasha covered her eyes with one hand as she cried. “And I won’t even be around for the consequences, but my family will. What would you think of a girl like that?” Vlad shook his head. “Don’t say that.” “I’m pathetic.” “That’s not true.” “I’m the worst.” Sasha clenched her fist and beat the ground. “I just needed one,” she cried. “Just fucking one more drop. Then I could’ve saved them all. The Dragon promised.” The Dragon? “How did everything end up like this? All I wanted was to give my family something. But I still haven’t…” Sasha choked on the sentence and squeezed more tears out of her eyes. “You’ve done enough,” Vlad muttered. “Save your strength. It’s time to go home.” Sasha fought back her cries. Little gurgles escaped her throat. “Sasha, stop.” Vlad ground his teeth together. “You can stop now.” Sasha dug her heels into the ground, spurting blood into blood. With shaky arms, she pushed herself inches off the dirt. “I still haven’t given them a thing!” she wailed and crashed back down onto the ground. She threw her head down and cried. Vlad wrapped his arms around Sasha. Her tears dripped onto his shoulder. “Listen, I have a final request,” she whispered. “Don’t say that, everything’s going to be alright. I’ll protect you like I always have. I’ll get rid of the Lions and the Hawks and even The Dragon. You’ll be safe.” “Will you listen?” Vlad couldn’t bring the word out of his mouth. So he just nodded.

“I have a family. They can all be a little hotheaded and rash, but that’s because they learned from me. They’re good kids, all of them. So please, Slasher, leave them alone.” Vlad stifled a cry. “Please, give me this,” Sasha begged. “Sasha… I can’t. You don’t understand.” Vlad dug his nose into the nape of her neck. “Please,” she pleaded with a waning breath. “But—” “I’m begging you.” Sasha grabbed Vlad’s wrist with a weak grip and pushed off him. She gave him a teary look. “For me.” Once again, the words refused to leave Vlad’s mouth. All he could do was nod in response. His agreement seemed to fill Sasha with relief, because a small smile spread across her face. She looked up at the clouds and let her arms drop. She closed her eyes. Vlad stared, waiting for her chest to rise. As the seconds stretched, panic overtook him. Breathe! “Sasha!” Vlad grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Sasha, wake up!” She felt like a ragdoll. “Don’t die! Breathe!” Vlad squeezed her limp body. Cold. Vlad rubbed his body against hers, trying to warm her up. He could feel the chill air seep into her skin, slowly stealing away her life. Her heart slowed until its gentle thumping stopped altogether. And just like that, the girl he loved more than anything else in the world became just another object.

MAVERICK Maverick stumbled home with the Slasher’s mask in hand. Everywhere he went, the Earth wet with spots of red. Above him, the black clouds had started parting to make room for a spectacular rainbow. “A beautiful day.” Is what Sasha would’ve called it. He could already hear his family. “Wow.” It was Prince’s voice. “I can’t believe it’s finally over.” “Everything’s soaked,” Bolt complained. “All our umbrellas blew away.” “Just be happy we managed to save our tents,” Flower said. “Hey, listen. Sounds like they’re back,” Prince said. “Mav, Sasha, where’d you guys go?” Maverick sloshed through water and turned the corner. “I’m home,” he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “What the fuck?” a wide-eyed Prince muttered. Flower jumped backwards and Bolt’s mouth hung open. “Are you okay?” Flower stuttered. “Are you hurt?” “No.” Maverick gave her a smile so wide it hurt his cheeks. “This isn’t my blood.” “Then whose blood is it?” Bolt voiced the question everyone was thinking. “The two Stickers who were asleep in the house by where she died.” Tears fell down Maverick’s face, yet he kept his smile. “Why is their blood on you?” Prince kept his voice low as if scared to startle Maverick. “Because I broke my rule,” Maverick responded. “What rule?” Prince asked. “My only rule.”

“Mav, why are you smiling like that?” Flower asked. Maverick shrugged. “Because” —He spread his arms high above his head and danced in a little circle, just as Sasha would’ve to cheer them up— “it’s a beautiful day! And of course, it has to be a beautiful day when she dies. God couldn’t show her the slightest respect. No, this day is for celebration!” “What are you talking about?” Prince demanded, his face contorting into a look of worry. “Mav, where’s Sasha?” Both Bolt and Flower leaned in to hear him. Maverick cocked his head to one side as if he didn’t understand the question. “Well, she’s dead of course.” A tense silence filled the air. “Don’t joke about that,” Prince finally said. “Tell me where she is.” Maverick cocked his head to the other side. “I would hope heaven.” Prince’s face flushed red. He stepped up to Maverick and grabbed him by the collar. “Don’t fucking joke about that! Where is she?” Maverick’s fists were a blur, too fast to even see. By the time Prince registered what had happened, he was already on the ground, his cheeks red and sore. Bolt’s words came out unsteady. “You’re joking right?” Before Maverick could answer, Prince screamed. “Of course he’s joking!” He pushed himself back up. “Maverick, this isn’t funny.” “That’s because it’s so tragic.” The corners of Maverick’s mouth twitched, threatening to collapse into a frown. His tears spilled down his face like a river delta, joining at his chin in a waterfall. Prince scrambled back up and lunged at Maverick only to be beaten down again. “Stop fucking lying,” Prince said from the ground. He dug his nails into the dirt. Behind him, Flower covered her face with her hands and wailed. Beside her, Bolt leaned against the wall as if his legs were about to give. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks.

Prince shot up and dove at Maverick. Before he could lay a hand on Maverick, two fists smashed his head back into the ground. His chin slid against the floor, scraping away on the dirt. Prince choked back a cry and stood back up. “Take it back. You god damn bastard. Take it back right now!” “I guess she could be in hell.” Prince roared and threw a wild punch. Maverick sidestepped the punch and counterattacked with an uppercut to Prince’s stomach. Prince fell with his hand clamped over his mouth. Before he could recover, Maverick sent a knuckle into his temple. “Why won’t you believe me?” Maverick asked with a shaky voice. Prince groaned on the ground as he tried getting back to his feet. Drool oozed down the corners of his mouth. “Because you’re lying,” he coughed out. “You’re as hardheaded as she was.” Prince flung a fistful of mud into Maverick’s face. It was the first move that caught Maverick by surprise. Maverick shut his eyes, but too late. He swiped at his eyes, clawing the mud from his face. “You’re wrong!” Prince put all his might into a single punch. It connected with Maverick’s face, flinging Maverick backwards. “I’m as hardheaded as she is,” Prince finished with heavy breaths.

PRINCE “Maverick,” Prince said, a sob rising from his chest. “Do you remember what we promised each other? We said that we’d protect her no matter what. So tell me where she is, she might be in trouble.” Maverick remained on the ground. He tucked his head in between his knees and stayed silent. His shoulders slouched and his back bent as if he had been deflated. Every time he took a breath, his shoulders would stagger on the exhale. He was crying. “Maverick.” This time, Prince kept his tone firm. “Tell me where she is.” “You arrogant piece of shit,” Maverick muttered between stuttered cries. “What was that?” Prince was sure he had misheard the words. Maverick shot up, his smile finally gone. “Don’t lecture me about promises.” He flung the words like an accusation. “What have you done? I went out every night to protect her. I became a monster, even though I knew she would hate me for it. I gave her everything!” “What have I done? I give us medicine!” Prince shot back. “I’d like to ask you the same question.” Maverick’s face twisted in rage. Prince had never seen Maverick so angry before. He clenched his teeth as if he was trying to grind them to dust. He tossed his mask in front of Prince. “I gave her my humanity,” Maverick growled, his voice deeper than ever. Prince stared at the bloody smile he had only heard about. The Slasher… “How could you?” Prince looked back up at Maverick as if seeing him for the first time. “Don’t you dare judge me when all you did was hide under the covers! Did you think your wishful thinking was enough to save her life? Did you think that you could do your part by just praying? But since things turned out like this, you think you can judge me because unlike me, you did nothing!”

“You can’t justify this. The things you did were inhuman.” “How are humans supposed to live?” Maverick smacked his chest with open palms. “What’s more human than protecting the girl you love? Tell me!” Prince kept silent. There was no answer that would satisfy Maverick. The silence settled between them, suffocating anything either could say. “It must be easy,” –Maverick looked from Prince to Bolt to Flower— “to judge me from up so high, but even easier to forget that I’m the one wading through shit so you guys don’t have to. You’re up so high because you’re standing on my shit stained shoulders. The least you guys can do is not hate me!” “Mav, calm down. We can—” “It’s Vlad.” With that, Maverick turned to leave. “Good-bye, Mouse.” “Wait, where are you going?” Without turning, Maverick replied, “I keep my promises.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Prince screamed and chased Maverick to the entrance of their home. “At least tell me where Sasha is!” Maverick stopped in his tracks. “You already know. Stop making me repeat it.” Though he still had his back to Prince, his shoulders shuddered with sobs. “It’s cruel, even for me.” Of course I know. Prince fell to his knees. At last, he let the tears escape from his eyes. It felt like his chest was being torn from inside. His heart crashed into its cage with every beat, it tried to escape. Prince closed his eyes and cried.

FLOWER Flower had run out of tears to cry and by the sounds of it, so had everyone else. They all sat away from each other. Bolt had his face buried in a corner and Prince was sitting on the floor staring at nothing. None of them knew how many hours had passed, but the sun was setting and the ground underneath them had somehow dried. In the middle of their tents laid their last plastic bag of bread. Flower crawled out of her tent and grabbed a piece, nibbling on its crust. Despite her rumbling stomach, the thought of food made her nauseous. “You guys should eat,” she said loud enough for only herself to hear. She hadn’t meant to be so quiet. It felt like she had forgotten how to speak. She was about to repeat her statement when Prince said, “I wonder if this is our fault.” His voice sounded foreign, intruding upon the silence. “What do you mean?” Flower asked. “She went out during the storm. Why else would she do so except for us?” “That doesn’t make sense. How would it help us?” Flower countered. Prince shook his head. “I don’t know. All I know is that while she was out there dying, we were here playing with fucking umbrellas.” “Why did she go by herself?” Bolt asked in a whisper. “She was trying to protect us,” Flower answered. “Or,” Prince said, “maybe she stopped believing in us. We failed as Mice. We failed as her family. All we ever did was cause her trouble.” Prince clawed at the dirt. “Guys,” Flower said, “I really think we should eat.” Prince looked over, his face pale and eyes grey. “We’re on our last meal too. It might be time to move on,” he said softly. That’s the face. Flower had seen that expression before. It was the same expression Bolt had worn the night they failed their final drop.

“Prince,” Flower whispered. “Take a few breaths.” But her words fell on deaf ears. “If we sell some of our stuff, we can buy some food for tomorrow,” Prince said as if telling the punchline to some sick joke. “As it turns out, we have an extra tent.” Bolt shot Prince a glare, but Prince continued. Each of his words dragged on, as if he was too weary to move on to the next. “And we have one less mouth to feed.” He stood and walked to Sasha’s tent. “Don’t you dare.” Bolt muttered and stood between Prince and Sasha’s tent. Prince looked back, his arms and shoulders slouching. He reached to peel back the flaps of Sasha’s tent. Bolt shoved Prince to the ground. Prince got up and brushed the dirt from his knees. “Pretending she’s alive won’t bring her back,” he told Bolt without an ounce of emotion. “The faster we move on, the better.” “Don’t you fucking dare,” Bolt said, tears in his eyes. “Prince, what’s gotten into you?” Flower asked, her voice trembling. Prince walked back to Bolt and without a single word, drilled his fist into Bolt’s stomach. Bolt spluttered out a weak breath before falling to the ground. Prince stood over him, his expression unchanged. “Her blanket might pay for lunch.” Bolt clutched his stomach and rolled onto his side. “Stop,” he spat. “Bolt, if you want to protect something, you have to be strong enough to protect it. Just like you can’t protect Sasha’s things, I couldn’t protect her. It’s because we’re weak.” Bolt growled and launched himself at Prince. Prince shot another jab into Bolt’s stomach. Bolt fell into a heap on the ground. “Right and wrong, none of it matters next to strength,” Prince said. Prince peeled back Sasha’s tent flaps and stepped inside. “I suppose it’s only fair to give these to you, Bolt. After all, Sasha bought them for you. Your perfect gift.”

Two sneakers flew out from the tent, landing by Bolt’s feet. Just seeing them brought tears to Flower’s eyes. Even just barely scraping by, Sasha had managed to save enough to buy shoes. “Try them on, Bolt.” Bolt stared at the shoes as if wary of some trap. He looked from the shoes back to Prince and back to the shoes again. “Go on,” Prince urged. “They were Sasha’s last gift, might as well see if they fit. Wouldn’t it be funny if they didn’t?” “Fuck you.” Bolt snatched the shoes from the ground and leapt into a sprint. Before anyone could stop him, he ran away.

PRINCE “What the fuck was that?” Flower screamed. Prince gave her an empty stare. “I don’t know.” Prince held Sasha’s blanket in his hands. Sasha’s smell still lingered on the linen. He brought it up to his nose and inhaled. “No matter who or what, we’ll protect her.” His own words came back at him, more damning then anything Maverick could’ve said. With a yell, Prince threw the blanket into the ground. He cocked his fist back and smashed his knuckles into the brick wall. They cracked and a fiery sting shot up his arm. “Fuck!” Prince screamed as he clutched his broken hand. “Prince!” Flower yelped, wide-eyed. Why can’t I save anyone? Prince roared at the wall and threw his fist into it again. Another crack. When he took his fist off the wall, his hand refused to open. His fingers were a deep purple already starting to swell. “Stop it, Prince.” Why can’t I protect even one person? Prince let loose a mighty cry and raised his arm. His fist wouldn’t fully close but he didn’t care. He would smash his fingers against the wall until either the brick or his fingers were ground to dust. He swung as hard as he could. He toppled backwards. Prince fell with Flower on top of him, her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. Tears dripped onto his chest like rain. “Please, no more,” Flower begged as she cried into his shirt. “Why can’t I do anything?” Prince whimpered. “Why am I so fucking weak?” Prince bit into his trembling lips.

“I know you’re hurting, Prince,” Flower croaked out. “I am too.” Prince had thought he had run out of tears, but his eyes swelled with a familiar feeling. “I couldn’t protect her,” He whispered. “I couldn’t keep a single promise.” “It’s not your fault, Prince. Nobody could’ve.” Prince wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her hair. “She’s really gone, isn’t she?” Flower nodded into his chest. “I’m sorry, Flower. I didn’t mean to—” A sharp cry interrupted erupted from his throat. “I’m sorry. Everyone’s gone.” “I’m not going anywhere. Tomorrow, Bolt and Maverick will come back. We’ll figure out what to do, we’ll give Sasha a proper good-bye and we’ll make it. We just have to get through tonight.” Prince nodded and squeezed her into him. He closed his eyes until Flower’s breathing became deep and steady. Soon, his did as well.

Prince awoke with the moon high in the sky. Flower was still in his embrace, but she had slid down. He cracked a smile, watching her snore into his stomach. He pushed himself up only for a jolt of pain to flare up in his right hand. “Ow.” Prince grit his teeth and looked over. Two fingers stuck out at strange angles and a third refused to move. His knuckles glowed a deep shade of purple and red. With a sigh, he gave up getting up. He laid his head to the ground and stared at the moon. The insects sang a sad tune. He closed his eyes and hummed along. If Sasha could see this moon, she’d say it was beautiful, that it made life worth living. The sound of crunching dirt interrupted the insects’ music. Footsteps. Prince stared toward the entrance. It sounded like multiple people, though he couldn’t tell how many. The sound was muffled, as if the people making it were being extra sure to step lightly. “Flower,” Prince whispered, nudging her. Flower muttered something incomprehensible and ignored him.

“Flower, wake up,” Prince whispered. An unfamiliar face peeked around the corner. “Flower!” Prince rolled Flower off of him and reached into his pocket for his knife. The stranger shot through the entrance and before Prince could get out his knife, a black bag went over his head and something pinned his arm to the ground. Flower shrieked a strident note. “Flower!” Prince yelled and struggled against whoever had him pinned. The bag held the smell of gasoline and something slightly sweet. Prince felt lightheaded. Within five minutes, he was unconscious.

LISSANDRA Lissandra awoke to the noise of someone knocking on the door. She turned over and slid deeper underneath the blankets. But the pounding just got louder. “Liss, what is that?” Leon muttered beside her. “Gunther probably just forgot his keys,” Lissandra replied. With a sigh, she slipped out of bed and headed for the front door. “I’ll let him in.” She hadn’t expected Gunther to be back so soon. He had told her that he would be gone for a few nights at least. But he promised that when he returned, he would bring enough money to feed them for a month. He claimed she would never have to be a Mouse again. “Stop knocking,” Lissandra said as she reached the door. “Please open up.” Lissandra’s hand froze on the lock. It wasn’t Gunther’s voice, it was Bolt’s. “Please,” Bolt said. With a short breath, Lissandra opened the door. “Hello.” Bolt stared back with bloodshot eyes. Sweat dripped down his chin, converging with the sweat stain on his shirt. He held a pair of sneakers in one hand and grabbed the wall with his other. “Remember when you told me that I could ask for anything?” Lissandra gave him a slow nod. “I need a place to stay, just for tonight.” He held his head low as if embarrassed. “Please.” Lissandra spent a few moments thinking. At last she responded, “I have an empty couch.” She stepped away from the doorway. Bolt walked in and headed straight for the couch, but instead of sitting on it, he fell onto the ground. His back crumpled into the legs of the couch and he buried his head between his knees.

Lissandra took a seat at the opposite end of the couch. She looked over at Bolt who remained completely still. She turned away. It felt wrong to stare. When the silence became unbearable, she opened her mouth and said the first thing that came to mind. “Nice shoes.” Bolt lifted up his head, his eyes puffy and red. He glanced down at the shoes in his hand and stared as if he had forgotten he still had them. “They were a gift,” He finally said. “Why aren’t you wearing them?” He shook his head and let it fall back in between his legs. The time passed like water from a leaky faucet. Every minute dragged on, hanging on as long as it could before dropping to make room for the next. Lissandra exhaled. “You know; I’ve never been very good at thank you’s.” She stared at the wall in front of her. “You could probably tell, since you saved my life. If there’s anything to be thankful for, that would be it.” She waited for a response, but none came. “So consider this a proper thank you,” Lissandra said. “When I first saw you, I thought you were an angel. When you ran away, I thought it meant that not even God could save me. But then you came back and you pulled me up and told me to run. I’ll always be grateful for that.” Lissandra looked to Bolt, steeling herself to however he might react. “I’m a Mouse.” Bolt’s voice came out muffled by his legs. “We’re the closest things to angels in this place.” It took her a second to register the words. She hadn’t expected a response. Her lips broke into a small smile. “I suppose so.” Bolt lifted his head up. “You never met her, but if you did, you’d understand. She was—” With another shake of his head, he let his head fall back between his knees. Lissandra turned toward Bolt and with a soft voice, asked, “Who was she?” After a deep breath, he responded, “Her name was Sasha. She’s the Mouse that saved my life, the one that convinced me to become a Mouse.”

“She sounds pretty amazing.” Bolt nodded. “She was. I still remember the day I became a Mouse. She was—” His voice faded. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter anyways.” “No, tell me.” Bolt looked up at her, his brow raised in surprise. “Please.” “Alright. It was almost a year ago…”

BOLT – 325 Days Ago Flower fidgeted back and forth, darting her eyes from the magazine on the ground to the entrance of their home. Bolt couldn’t stand it. If they needed money so bad, it was much easier to steal, much safer too. Masquerading as heroes was not worth the risk. Next to Flower were two other Mice named Prince and Maverick. They were just as nervous, but showed it in different ways. Prince kept cracking bad jokes in a desperate attempt at conversation while Maverick leaned against the wall with his eyes fixated at the entrance, as still as could be. Both had sweat dripping down the back of their shirt. Only Sasha was still out. Grey clouds blanketed the sky above them. Every now and then, a single raindrop would tickle their skin. If it were just a month ago, the rain would’ve been snow and they’d have a small fire in between them. But now that the temperature was warming back up, they all just wore heavier clothing. “I see her,” Flower called out. Bolt looked toward the entrance and sure enough, a dark shadow stretched across the wall. The shadow grew larger until Sasha turned the corner. Bolt froze. Sasha’s bruised and battered face held a weak smile. One of her eyes had swollen shut and half of her face was purple. Blood dripped down her cracked lips like the drizzle above them. “Sorry guys,” she said with a chuckle. “Today’s just not my day.” All three Mice and Bolt ran to her. Besides her face, she had grazes and scratches on her stomach and knees. The worst was the star carved into her right bicep that had stained her entire sleeve red. The cut went down to the bone. They moved Sasha into her tent and left Flower to tend to her wounds. “Why the fuck would a Hawk cut so deep? God damn it!” Prince kicked their garbage pail and knocked it onto the ground with a clang. “Calm down, Prince,” Maverick said. “Don’t tell me to calm down! They could’ve killed her!”

“Prince.” Maverick’s voice held an edge to it. His fists shook by his sides, clenched as tightly as his teeth. “Don’t disturb Flower.” Bolt snuck a glance toward Sasha’s tent. This is why Mice are so dumb. Why risk so much for so little? “Fucking Hawks.” Prince continued complaining, but now in a hushed voice. “I’ll get back at them, I swear to God I will.” “How?” Maverick asked. Prince took a moment to think. “Knives,” He concluded. “I’ll even the playing field.” “With what money?” Prince grinned in the way only he could, a grin that said he had and always will have all the answers. “Don’t worry about the money. It’ll take me a while, but I can do it.” Bolt watched them in silence. In discussions of Hawks and Mice, he was an alien. Even if he were to enter, his only inputs would be pointless banter. Only Mice knew what it meant to be hunted. “Bolt.” It was Flower’s voice. Bolt perked up and saw Flower leaving Sasha’s tent. “Yeah?” “Sasha wants to talk to you.” With a nod, Bolt ducked into Sasha’s tent. Sasha’s face was swallowed by bandages. Only her eyes and mouth had escaped their appetite. She gave Bolt a weary smile. “How are you?” Bolt asked. “Just peachy. Listen for sec because Flower gave me some pretty powerful drugs and I can feel them trying to knock me out. Tell Prince and Maverick that I’ll be ready for next week’s drop.” Bolt gave her a hard stare. “That’s crazy,” He said. “Not as crazy as starving.” Bolt shook his head. “I can always just swipe some food from—”

“No.” Her answer was adamant. She matched Bolt’s stare. “It’s safer!” Bolt protested. “Bolt!” She sounded like a stern mother. “I refuse to let you steal.” “Why does it even matter?” Bolt asked in an exasperated voice. “Tons of people do it and it’s not like the people I’m stealing from are all that great either.” “Because we’re human. We weren’t designed to hurt each other, but it feels like that’s all we do. I won’t let you, you’re stronger than that. Look, I’ll heal up by next week and be ready for the drop, I swear. Just hold out until then. Promise me!” When Bolt didn’t respond, Sasha gave him a pleading look. “Promise!” she repeated. “Fine,” Bolt said through grit teeth. Even though he didn’t understand Sasha, he owed her his life. He would’ve rather stolen all the food in the city than do nothing, but she didn’t ask him to steal food. “Thanks, Bolt. I’m feeling pretty tired, I’m going to go to bed now. Sweet dreams.” She closed her eyes with a smile. “Night Sasha,” Bolt said and walked out of her tent. When he stepped out of her tent, three pairs of eyes locked onto him. “Well, how was she?” Prince asked. “What did she want?” Maverick followed. “Is she alright?” Flower finished. Bolt looked from Flower to Maverick to Prince and sighed. That’s a cheap trick Sasha. With a thin smile, Bolt said, “She’s fine. She wanted me to tell you guys that starting next week, I’ll be doing her leg of the drop.”

LISSANDRA “Sounds like she tricked you,” Lissandra said after Bolt had finished with his story. Bolt smiled. “Not at all. That’s just how Sasha is. If I wouldn’t have volunteered, I’d bet anything that she would’ve forced herself to do another drop.” Lissandra took his smile as a good sign. “No way. Nobody’s that stubborn.” “Sasha is.” Bolt smiled even wider. Lissandra spent the next hour listening to stories of Sasha. This girl once starved for days just to prove a point to a Mouse named Prince. She once nearly lost her eye to save the same Mouse. Every story made her sound even more unbelievable. By the time Bolt had finished with his stories, Sasha sounded like some sort of cartoon hero. “She just found you and took you in?” Lissandra asked, her eyes wide with disbelief. Bolt nodded. “You would understand if you met her, that’s just the type of person she is.” With a small chuckle, Lissandra said, “I’d like to meet her then, see for myself.” Bolt’s smile vanished. His gaze returned to the floor and his head between his knees. Did I say something wrong? “You can’t,” Bolt muttered. “She’s dead.” “Oh.” Lissandra couldn’t think of anything to say. Her response drew out until it faded into silence and then they both sat, looking away from each other in that silence. Finally, she worked up the courage to speak. “When did she die?” “Today.” “Oh.” Silence. Even the scuttle of insects could be heard. Bolt let out a sharp whine, the sound of a dog that had lost its liter. He buried his face into the shoes and groaned into its laces. His body shuddered violently through each groan with aftershocks in between. He opened his mouth to wail but instead choked on his

cries. Slowly, he fell to his side and curled into a fetal position, hugging the shoes tightly to his chest. Lissandra scooted over to Bolt. She didn’t know what to do, but she didn’t want to do nothing. However, now being within arm’s reach of him, nothing she could do felt right. At last, she put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, just to let him know she was there. They stayed like that until Bolt’s chocking cries reduced itself to fits of trembling, until there was only silence. “Hey,” Lissandra said. “I think you should get some rest.” Bolt’s head bobbed up and down. It was probably a nod, though it was hard to tell with his back to her. “You can stay here however long you need to,” Lissandra continued. “My mom’s feeling guilty about something, so she’d agree to most anything I ask right now. You’re just lucky my brother’s gone for a job right now, he’d throw a huge fit about another boy staying over. Just be ready when he gets back, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.” “Okay.” Bolt sniffed loudly and wiped the tears from his face. “You don’t have to stay here to babysit me.” “Babysit you? I’m just making sure you don’t steal all my shit,” Lissandra said with a giggle. Bolt let out a small snort. “Well, I promise you I won’t. You can go to bed.” “You know, Bolt? Sometimes the words that come out of your mouth mean the exact opposite of what you want to say.” Lissandra squeezed his shoulder. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smiled. She couldn’t actually see it, but she knew for sure. “Fine, but could you do me a favor in the morning?” “What is it?” “Remind me to go to the marketplace.” “I can do that,” Lissandra said. “What do you need to buy?” “An apple.”

“An apple?” “To repay a debt,” Bolt responded. “Goodnight.” “Goodnight Bolt.” She closed her eyes, her hand still resting on Bolt’s shoulder. “And my friend’s call me Liss.”

MAVERICK God… Maverick stumbled into the shadows of the alley. Usually, these shadows brought him comfort, but not tonight. They crept toward him with malice, promising to swallow him whole and fade him from existence. He had long since given up the battle to restrain his tears. The only thing he wanted now was for his heart to stop hammering against his chest. But it was a bucking bronco that nothing could tame. “Like I can accept this!” Maverick screamed toward the heavens. Every single one of muscles twitched as if being strained to its limits. “Like any of this is right! You cruel God, how dare you play such tricks on me?” His voice echoed into the air, so deep it was nearly a growl. His teeth clenched shut and his chest heaved. Every breath came deeper than the last. The veins in his neck bulged as if on the verge of popping. “God, answer me!” Maverick demanded. “Answer me before I drag you down from your great throne and beat it out of you!” It didn’t matter what the words meant, or even if they made sense. He didn’t care. “Do not cower from me! God!” The sky offered no response or reprieve. The crescent moon taunted him with its brightness. Every star was an angel twinkling with laughter. Even the night, shrouded in darkness, was just a cloak of deception to hide the true nature of the heavens. Maverick clutched his knife and jabbed its wicked edge into the air. He squeezed it as if he could break the bronze handle in half. His knuckles drained of blood and turned snow white while his entire arm quivered. “God!” His voice did not waver. “I will have you suffer! You will feel the pain only humans can feel! I will have you on your knees begging me for mercy. You will know the cost of your cruelty!” Maverick stared into the dark heavens refusing to blink. He wouldn’t give God a single inch. “You twisted puppeteer. I will burn down your perverted paradise and from atop the fucking ashes of your throne…” he took a mighty breath. “I will have you scream!”

Maverick snapped his eyes open wider than ever and thrust the knife into his chest. The knife sliced through his wall of muscle with ease but stopped at the bone. With an animalistic yell, he shoved his free hand into the knife and carved a diagonal line where his heart resided. “Are you scared?” he grunted while yanking the knife out of his body. “Do you see my resolve?” With that, he plunged the knife back into his chest drawing another diagonal so that he created an x-shaped gash across his heart. A torrent of blood seeped out of the wound. The bloody tide cascaded down his shirt, staining his pants. The corners of his mouth lifted to the very edges of his cheek in a disturbed smile. Maverick delighted in the pain. His head ached and his body burned. It was as if he was being engulfed by flames. But the hammering in his chest had ceased. He thrust out his chest, stretching his wound toward God so that it might unzip and spill his organs. Then, as if by spell, he began to laugh. Do you see my determination? Tears fell into his open mouth, coming back out as drool. Do you understand my sorrow? The drool climbed down his neck into his bloody shirt for a concoction of human liquids. Do you feel my pain? His mouth ached from smiling so forcefully. But compared to the pain he felt inside, none it mattered. His stomach lurched forward and while still staring at the sky, he retched out whatever was in his stomach. It came out in small splutters, like he was coughing it out. Maverick kept his stare directed toward God. “I will show you—” The words could barely leave his mouth. With each word, he spat chunks of bile into the air. “—the depths of my pain.” Maverick couldn’t breathe. His nose was filled with snot and his mouth with vomit. But if it meant breaking his glare at God, he wouldn’t do it. What did breath matter in the face of such an enemy? His entire body trembled, his muscles hard as iron. I cross my heart…

Even his laughter came out like he was gagging. His eyes felt like someone had stabbed a hot poker through them, yet he refused them the relief of a blink. He would never submit to such a cruel God. And hope to die.

VLAD Chunks of dissolved bread dripped off Vlad’s face. He clutched the wall to stagger through a few more lopsided steps. His breath came out in uneven gasps, each one providing less air than the previous. In his free hand, he held his bloodied knife. Dry blood snaked down his legs like cobras coiled around his ankles. The slightest hint of orange glimmered over the horizon. Although the moon was still out, it had already lost its brilliant glow. Vlad looked toward the rising sun with contempt. You shouldn’t rise anymore. It was still too early for the city to wake, but some pedestrians were out. They all kept their distance. Vlad reached Jynx’s shop and stumbled into the door. “Open up!” It was the only place he could think of that held medicine in stock. Of course, there was also Flower, but he had made Sasha a promise. “Jynx, open the door!” The door swung open and Vlad fell through. He landed hard on the clay, but was too tired to register the impact. His blurry world slowly darkened until nothing remained. A torrent of water spilled onto his head. Vlad jolted his eyes open and gasped for air. “If you don’t have a good reason for being here, then leave. You can sleep in your own home.” Jynx’s voice held no remorse. The water tasted like a salty brine of sewage and gasoline. Vlad chocked on it, spluttering out whatever he could. The liquid came out muddled and dark. “Help,” He croaked. “Why should I let you stay?” Vlad pushed himself over to see Jynx holding an empty bucket over her head. Beside her was a mop, still wet with use. Laying on his back brought Vlad a new agony. Pain scorched his bleeding chest as the salty water seeped into his wound. Vlad opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a small whine. He clenched his entire body trying to fight the pain. It was a losing battle. “Help me.” He could only mouth the words.

With a small sigh, Jynx left. When she returned, she held a syringe in her hand. “Hold still,” Jynx ordered. “I’m going to give you something for the pain.” Vlad felt a prick in his arm and then a soothing calmness. His body loosened and his jaw opened. “Hello Maverick.” It was Sasha’s voice. Jynx continued. “I gave you a lot, so there’ll be side effects. You may experience some –” “Did you miss me?” Vlad swung his body up and darted his eyes across the room. “Sasha,” he muttered. “Where are you?” “Hey!” Jynx screamed and shoved him back to the ground. She gripped his shoulders and held him down. “You opened up your wound again. Stay still and –” “Good. Because you let me die. You killed me.” “That’s not true!” Vlad screamed. He fought Jynx’s arms, struggling to get back up. “I tried to protect you.” “You didn’t give it your all. You never even tried to protect me.” “No!” Vlad shook his head, crashing it against the floor. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” Jynx shrieked. Vlad felt a sharp jab and the soothing calmness he previously felt overtook his body. His eyes rolled up and he went limp. “If you really wanted to protect me, you should’ve destroyed everything…”

JYNX Jynx washed the blood from her hands. As the daughter of The Dragon, she was required to learn basic medicine. Still, she couldn’t help but feel queasy at the sight of Maverick’s wound. For now, Maverick was safe. His wounds cut deep, but luckily, no organs had been damaged. The only thing she had to worry about were the drugs coursing through his system. They had a tendency to be addictive. But maybe that was a good thing. At least I can finally get some rest. She fell into a chair and closed her eyes.

“Wake up, Jynx.” The voice came in a soft whisper. Jynx grumbled and turned over. “Wake up!” screamed Maverick. Jynx jolted awake. She stared into the dark eyes of Maverick, the steel of his blade right under her neck. It hovered mere centimeters away. “I can’t hear her anymore,” Maverick growled. “Why can’t I hear her anymore?” “You shouldn’t be up,” Jynx said in a trembling breath. “Your wounds might open.” “What did you give me?” His eyes remained unblinking. “Heroin.” Jynx sank her head into the back of the chair. But for every inch she edged away from the knife, it came that much closer. “Where do I get more?” Jynx motioned with her eyes to her supply closet. “I keep everything in there. But it’s locked.” “So unlock it,” Maverick said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I can’t get up.” Maverick removed the knife from her neck. “Don’t try anything stupid.”

Jynx nodded and unlocked the supply closet. Maverick stood guard at the entrance, watching her like a hawk. She went to the back where she kept all the things she had hidden from her father. Inside a large wooden crate were the needles. Right beside it was another crate, filled to the brim with pistols. She grabbed one. “You know, this isn’t the first time you’ve held me a knifepoint, Slasher.” Jynx drew the gun from the crate and turned. Maverick stared at the blunt end of her gun with an empty expression. “You think I wouldn’t recognize the knife I sold you? I knew it was you at Hawk’s Lair.” Maverick’s mouth contorted into a grin. He dropped the knife onto the floor and held his hands up. “I’m assuming there’s a reason you didn’t rat me out.” “Every girl’s got her secrets. So, Slasher, what are you going to do now?” “I’m going to kill your father,” Maverick responded in a flat tone. “And how are you going to do that?” “I’ll find a way. Stop me if you can.” Jynx lowered her gun. “I won’t.” For the first time, Maverick seemed surprised. He tilted his head in a questioning look. Jynx grinned at the sight. “I’ll do you one better. I can help you.”

PRINCE It hurt to open his mouth. Prince didn’t know how long he was out for but it was long enough for all the moisture to drain from his lips. Whenever he tried moving them, their cracks would split open and bleed. He coughed out a raspy breath and shook his head. A rope rubbed against his neck. Prince tried moving his limbs, but all he managed to do was to wiggle his toes. They were held in place, his arms behind him, his feet to the floor. A heavy black bag covered his head. “Flower?” Prince shouted through the bag. His voice echoed. Prince struggled against his restraints, grunting and screaming, but to no avail. Sweat cascaded down his body, costing him what little water he had left. He heard the click of a door unlocking, then the creak of one opening. Then footsteps, light and steady as they approached him. “Hello.” The Dragon said. The bag disappeared. Prince squinted at the single lightbulb in the room. He looked around. It was all cement. Above him, the cement was stained with dark splotches. “Where’s Flower?” he asked with hoarse words. The Dragon reached into his jacket and produced a silver flask. “I’ll be asking the questions.” “Tell me where I am.” The Dragon shook his head and walked behind Prince. Prince tried following him with his gaze but he could only turn his head so far. “Where were you yesterday morning during the storm?” The Dragon asked. Though it burned his lips, Prince smiled. “I was in church all day. Praying for your safety.”

“Funny.” The Dragon did not sound amused. Prince felt a foot on his back and then he was shoved forward. The rope around his neck jerked backwards and tightened around his neck until he was gagging. “I’ll get straight to the point,” The Dragon said. “I have on camera The Slasher comforting Sasha in her final moments. Two days ago, he burst into Hawk’s Lair with a gun to save her. I’d ask her about it but she got herself killed.” The Dragon pulled Prince back onto his feet. Prince gasped for air and immediately coughed it all out. Every cough felt like a flame erupting from his throat, but Prince couldn’t stop himself. He coughed until his insides were thoroughly burnt. The Dragon stepped in front of Prince, a deep frown on his face. “Are you The Slasher?” “Bite me.” The Dragon stared at Prince, scrutinizing every twitch to see if he was lying. “Do you know who The Slasher is?” “I thought it was you.” “There was a girl with you,” The Dragon said. “If you don’t know, then I’m going to have to ask her. And I promise you, I won’t be as pleasant as I’m being now.” Prince looked up, his eyes widening. “We don’t know anything.” The Dragon sighed. “Then I suppose, you’re no use to me at all.” He held the flask over Prince, spilling its contents onto Prince’s head. Prince almost dry heaved at the smell of it. The liquid poured down his hair and over his broken lips. It seeped into the cracks and burned. “What we have here,” The Dragon said as held up a match, “is a mix between gasoline, acetone, diesel, and a few more fun things. Basically, it will burn for hours. Let me ask you again, do you know who The Slasher is?” Prince stared at the match in The Dragon’s hand. He shook his head. The Dragon lit the match and held it to Prince’s face. “Who is The Slasher?”

“I don’t know.” Prince said. He inched away from the fire, straining his neck to its limits. But the further he pushed away from the match, the closer The Dragon brought it. “Liar,” The Dragon growled. “You know! Who is The Slasher?” “Fucking bite me!” The match burned mere centimeters from Prince. “You know!” The Dragon roared. “Fuck!” The Dragon threw the match onto the ground and stomped it out. He sneered and turned toward the door. “Salib, bring me the other Mouse.” As soon as he shouted the order, the feint sound of scuffling feet and high-pitched protest resounded from the door. A spectacled man walked in dragging Flower by her hands. When he crossed the doorway, he shoved Flower onto the ground. Flower glared at the spectacled man. “Fuck off.” Prince grinned.

LAO Children are so troublesome. Lao took out his revolver and cocked it. At the sound of the metallic click, Prince and Flower kept still. Both eyed the gun. “Prince, if I’m anything, I’m a man of my word.” Lao raised the gun until its nose pointed at Flower’s forehead. “Did I not say that I would be unpleasant to your friend?” Prince was no longer smiling. “She doesn’t know anything,” he said. Lao chuckled. “Then I guess it shouldn’t matter to me whether she lives or dies. But that’s not my choice to make, it’s yours.” “I don’t know anything either.” Lao shook his head. “Is that your final answer?” His finger twitched on the trigger. Prince, who was usually quick to respond, no longer had any words to say. He looked from Lao to Flower, his mouth moving but no words came out. Lao shrugged. “Alright then.” He pulled the trigger. “No, no, no! Wait!” Prince screamed. Flower jerked away from the gun, her eyes squeezed shut. The cylinder spun and clicked into place. The hammer swung down and produced a metallic clang, but the gun didn’t fire. Through the entire process, Lao didn’t take his eyes off Prince. “I’m not sure how many bullets are in this thing. Perhaps it’s none, perhaps it’s five, we’ll find out soon enough.” Prince stared at him wide-eyed. His breaths were ragged. “No we won’t, I’ll tell you everything I know. Just put the gun—” Lao pulled the trigger again. “Stop!” Prince screamed. “Don’t fucking—”

Lao fired again. Flower squealed. “Stop it! I know who The Slasher is! I’ll tell you everything you want to know!” Prince shrieked, leaning toward Lao. His eyes were wet with tears and he was leaning so hard that the rope had started choking him. Lao smiled and lowered the gun. “First question, who is The Slasher?” “A Mouse named Maverick,” Prince said. “He did drops with us.” “What does he hope to accomplish?” “He wanted to protect Sasha.” “Oh?” Lao raised a single eyebrow. “Now that she’s dead, what will he do?” Prince was slow to answer. “I don’t know.” “Where is he now?” “I don’t know. I swear I don’t.” Lao frowned and raised the gun to Flower’s head once again. “You’ve lied to me before.” “I really don’t know. He ran off after telling us Sasha died.” “Unfortunate.” Lao squeezed ever so slightly. The hammer of his revolver inched its way back. “I swear to God if you pull that fucking trigger I’ll bite my own tongue off!” Lao gave him a disinterested stare while continuing to squeeze. “I can find him for you!” Prince screamed in defeat. “Just stop. I'll find him and bring him to you.” He said with his head down. This caught Lao’s attention. “And how are you going to do that?” “I know him better than anyone in this city. I can do it.” “Alright.” Lao nodded. He holstered the gun and stepped toward Prince. “Now, go back to sleep.” He grabbed the black hood and put it over Prince’s head.

PRINCE Prince awoke feeling like his head had split in two. With every heartbeat, a dull pain pulsed from his cheek to his forehead. He stared at the black mesh covering his face trying to pick out anything familiar. There was nothing. He sat in what felt to be a very nice chair. His bottom sunk into the cushions and the back of the chair melded into his figure. There were lights all around him, but through the hood, he couldn’t make out what produced the light. “Hello Prince,” said The Dragon. “I see you’re finally awake.” A shadow in front of him moved. The hood came off. Prince squinted into the light of chandeliers. He recognized the place. Hawk’s Lair. He looked down, surprise to see his broken hand wrapped in clean bandages. All around him were men in suits. Each stood like a soldier at attention, back straight, eyes forward, and hands at their sides. The Dragon sat across from him in a curling oak chair. The wood resembled crashing waves. In between them was a table polished to the point that it was practically a mirror. On the table sat a chess board and a bottle of water. Prince eyed the water and licked his lips. He peeled his gaze off. “I already told you everything I know,” he said in a raspy breath. The Dragon nodded. “I believe you. We’ll be working close together for a little while so I thought we should get to know each other. I heard you liked chess.” “Where’s Flower?” The Dragon smiled. “I released her, she’s probably back home.” “Why?” “By the end of our game, you’ll understand.” Prince stared at the chess board, already set up. The pieces were carved from solid oak and their bottoms had fine felt. Inscribed along the edges of the chessboard were dragons.

“Chess?” Prince asked. The Dragon nodded and held out his hand to motion at the water bottle. “And please, help yourself.” “What are you trying to pull?” “I already told you, for you to get to know me. You should feel honored, I even closed down Hawk’s Lair for this occasion.” The Dragon motioned to the water once again. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. I don’t have to resort to cheap tricks to do that.” Prince snatched the bottle and squeezed the water into his mouth. Within seconds, it lay crumpled and dry in his hands. “So all you want is a game of chess?” The Dragon nodded. “What happens if I win?” Prince asked. The Dragon chuckled. “I’d be more concerned with when you lose.” Prince stared at Lao, motionless. “I do love gamblers.” Lao leaned back in his chair. “After all, I’ve built a shrine to you guys. How about this, if you win, I’ll tell you the reason Sasha died.” Prince’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth but no words came out. At last, he asked, “and if I lose?” “I simply want a game of chess. But for the sake of gambling, let’s say you’ll work for me. I’ll let you take the first move.” “I already agreed to,” Prince said. “I mean regardless of The Slasher. You have talent, Prince.” Prince stared at the chessboard. At last, he pushed his pawn forward. “Fine.” As soon as Prince’s hand left the pawn, The Dragon moved his own pawn. The game continued like this with Prince taking minutes to move only for The Dragon to do so in seconds.

Neither had lost a piece, but the board was so packed that it became inevitable. Prince hovered his hand over his pawns, unsure of which to choose. The Dragon placed his cheek on a bored fist. “You know; chess is my favorite game. Do you want to know why?” The Dragon asked. Prince ignored him. At last, he moved a pawn into a defensive position. This time, The Dragon was in no rush to make his move. He looked at Prince, a smug smile on his face. “Every piece has a value.” He said. “A queen is worth more than a rook and a rook more than a pawn. Any pawn would gladly give its life for the queen.” “Who are you to say how much a pawn is worth?” Prince shot back. The Dragon leaned forward as if divulging a secret. “I’m the king,” he whispered. “The game ends with my death. Every single piece must be sacrificed to protect me. My only job is to determine the order in which these pieces are sacrificed.” He moved a pawn into danger. Prince stared at the pawn and then back at The Dragon. With a small smirk, he took the pawn. “Are you trying to prove a point?” The Dragon exposed a second pawn to Prince’s pieces. Prince took that one as well. “If all a king can do is hide behind his pawns then he’s no king. Right now, even your pawns are more deserving of the crown.” The Dragon chuckled. “Those are fine words, coming from a pawn. But a pawn will never see the bigger picture. A king makes plans for thousands, while the pawn does so for himself. What are the dreams of one pawn compared to that of an entire city?” Prince glared at The Dragon. When he spoke, it sounded like he had to keep himself from yelling. “It may not matter to you, but don’t look down on our dreams. The few things we have are worth more than any of your bullshit plans.” “Ridiculous,” The Dragon scoffed. “If sacrificing one pawn means saving two then I’d cut the pawn down myself. If sacrificing all my pawns means winning the game, then it’s an easy choice.” He moved another pawn into an undefended space.

“The king is the last person who can value pawns. You’ll never understand what we go through, what we feel, what we want!” “But if not the king, then who? Every pawn thinks it’s a king. Because that’s what it means to be human, to be arrogant enough to believe your dreams have meaning.” “Mine do.” Prince wore a look he had seen so many times before. It was a look of unparalleled confidence, the one perfected by Sasha. The Dragon smiled. “And this is why humans are so worthless. You think your life has so much importance, don’t you? You think it’s all been so grand. Unfortunately, that’s a lie. Even the proud title you wear as a Mouse is a lie.” Prince squeezed his fist. “You’re full of shit.” “You see, drops are just another game we kings play.” The Dragon leaned back in his chair. “We gamble on your drops. Your lives mean nothing but to entertain us. We give you pills just to see if you’ll deliver them. And why can we do this? Because pawns will always miss the bigger picture!”

LAO “You’re lying.” Prince shook his head as if in a trance. “I have the footage if you want to see. I also have all records of the bets made including who made them, how much, and when. Your group was a crowd favorite. You won’t believe how many people around the entire world rooted for you. Leaders of countries, businesses, even religions. When they watched Sasha die, some even cried.” “You fucking monster!” Prince’s face flushed red. “Is it really so fun to torture children?” “I hate it.” “So then why?” Prince shrieked. He slammed his palm against the table and shot out of his seat. Lao kept calm. “If this city was a person, then money would be its blood. We can’t afford hospitals, we can’t afford schools, we can barely afford electricity. The only thing of value we have to offer is entertainment. In exchange for the lives of a few Mice, I can give life to this city. Don’t you think it’s a good trade?” Prince lunged across the table, his hand outstretched. His fingers stopped mere inches away from Lao’s throat. A guard had slammed Prince’s head into the chess board. Wooden pieces scattered to the floor. “Fuck,” Prince growled through grit teeth. “I’m going to kill you!” Pawns will never understand. Lao looked into Prince’s azure eyes. “You can try, but not before bringing me The Slasher. I own this city, everything in it is mine. I shape this city at will.” “The Lions,” Prince muttered. “The pedestrians as well. Both were a nuisance to my game so I took them out of the equation. Don’t tell me you think it’s normal for strangers to simply watch children suffer?” “And the cameras. They were made to watch Mice.” “Otherwise, they were rarely on.”

“You trash.” Prince pushed against the table to raise his head. His arms shook, battling the hand pressing against his head. “Worthless piece of shit.” “For every life I take, I save ten more. For every Mouse that dies, our future is secured a tiny bit further. I am the king. It is my job to decide the order of which to sacrifice my pieces. You just need to stand in line.” Prince spat a streak of saliva onto Lao’s cheek. A guard slammed Prince’s forehead into the table, pressing it against the wood. Lao wiped the spit from his face. “Listen closely Mouse, even if it means making the entire world my enemy, I will save this city. Soon, the same people that reveled at you Mice will be begging to save us.” He turned toward the guard. “Put him back in his chair, we still have a game to finish.” The guard unhanded Prince and pulled him back into his chair. Fury danced in Prince’s eyes. Under Lao’s orders, the guard set the chessboard back up exactly as it had been. Lao motioned to Prince, “your move.” Prince crossed his arms and receded into the chair. Lao sighed. “I told you all this because I will be giving you a certain amount of liberties to find me The Slasher. Remember, you still have everything to lose.” It worked. Though it was only a slight twitch on the corner of Prince’s mouth, Lao knew that he had delivered the message. Prince uncrossed his arms and made his move. He took the lone pawn Lao had sent to die. Lao placed his hand on his queen. Because of the three pawns he had sacrificed, there was now a clear lane of attack. “Prince,” he said. “You can hate me, but do not misunderstand me. Though I will always sacrifice my pawns to win the game, I would never take light of their lives.” He moved his queen. “Check.” Prince moved to defend his king with a knight. Though Lao knew the next move, but he didn’t make it. Instead, he spoke. “Before my time, this city was on the verge of tearing itself apart. Gangs on every corner, Mice shot for a few cents, boys stolen from their mothers to fight for sport. I spared you from all from that.” He took Prince’s knight. “Check.”

Prince countered Lao’s advance. “Someone who so easily sacrifices his pieces can never save this city.” Lao’s brow furrowed. “Look at the world around us. What do you think become of those too scared to sacrifice? Chances don’t come often for us, so unless we bet it all when it does, we’ll never win the game.” He moved his queen again. “Check.” “This isn’t a game,” Prince said. “It’s our life you’re toying with.” A window shattered. Lao twisted his head to see a flaming liquor bottle smash into the carpet. Fire sprouted from where it broke. A steady rhythm of shattering glass followed as flaming bottles flew in, one after the other. Guards scrambled from the fire. The receptionist screamed a piercing note and made a mad dash through the front door. Lao scanned the pandemonium before returning his gaze to Prince. “Leave Mouse, you are useless to me dead. Come back when I’ve dealt with this. And remember, you still have everything to lose.”

VLAD If there was ever a day to die… Vlad tossed the glass bottle into the air and caught it. Inside the bottle was a concoction of chemicals used by The Dragon himself. A dozen more bottles laid by Vlad’s feet. The day was perfect. Not a single cloud overlooked the city. All the guards had gone inside and at the sight of his mask, any potential bystander had turned and ran. I should’ve done this a long time ago. Around him, a crowd of Lions threw flaming liquor bottles into Hawk’s Lair. They had rallied behind him. Word that The Slasher would lead the uprising had brought Jynx a small army. They wore blank masks and green hoods with the exception of Vlad who wore his usual red smile. Vlad played with the spark wheel of his lighter. Everything he had was given to him by Jynx. She had told him the secret about Hawks and Mice. It was too cruel, to have Sasha’s pride be trampled in such a way. The Dragon had to pay. Vlad lit the rag inside the Molotov cocktail and chucked it through a window. Burn. The front door burst open and a woman in a butler outfit stumbled out. Vlad took aim. The next Molotov cocktail shattered on her face and exploded in a ball of fire. She fell to the ground shrieking a pleasant note. “How is it that you’re allowed to live when Sasha couldn’t?” Vlad muttered. Bottle after bottle, the Lions coated the building in flame. Only when the entire building was in flames did Vlad proceed to the next phase of the plan. Kill The Dragon. With his knife in one hand and a Molotov cocktail in the other, he sashayed through the front door for one last scream. “Dragon!” he roared. “Where are you?” Hawk’s Lair was unrecognizable. Fire engulfed the pillars, their elaborate décor slowly turning to ash. The flames didn’t care for elegant oak tables or mahogany roulette

wheels, it was all just fuel. Men in suits scrambled around, either choking on the smoke or burning in the fire. In the middle of everything stood The Dragon, two guards by his side. Vlad’s heart skipped a beat. He gave The Dragon the widest smile he could manage, matching the smile on his mask. “Dragon! I’ve come to hear you scream!” The Dragon pointed at Vlad and said, “Shoot.” The guards took aim. Vlad lobbed the Molotov cocktail at them. They opened fire. A bullet collided into Vlad’s cheek. His mask cracked and its bottom corner broke off. Warm blood dribbled down his cheek as he staggered backwards. When Vlad regained his balance, he saw that he had hit his mark. One of the guards rolled on the ground, covered in blue fire. The other knelt beside him, trying to smother the flames with his coat. Vlad giggled at the sight and headed toward. His blade dragged against the ground like an anchor. Fiery splinters rained down from the roof. Wooden beams buckled and cracked, falling onto the ground as kindle. The inside of an oven would’ve been cooler. “Dragon,” Vlad mumbled, drool trickling down the edge of his mouth. “Scream.” The single able guard turned to face Vlad. Before he could raise his gun, Vlad’s blade slashed through his hand. Two fingers flew off into the fire. Vlad grabbed the guard by his hair and shoved his blade into his neck. He sawed through the guard’s trachea, blood squirting everywhere. “It’s over.” The Dragon’s voice came from behind. Cold steel pressed against the back of Vlad’s head. It felt like ice. He heard the unmistakable sound of a revolver cocking. “Look, Dragon,” Vlad said with a shaking voice. It sounded like he was laughing and crying at the same time. He peeled back the guard’s head for a better view of the wound. “It’s like a smile for your neck.” “Drop your weapon.” Vlad spun, his knife aimed at The Dragon’s head. The Dragon hopped back and held his gun up. His face held neither fear nor excitement, it was blanker than a Lion’s mask. “Slasher,” The Dragon said, his tone flat. “You must really wish to see hell.”

“Where do you think we are?” The Dragon chuckled and pulled a silver flask from his jacket. He swung his head back and took a swig from it. His face twisted into a pained expression and he squeezed his eyes shut as he wiped his mouth. As soon as his eyelids closed, Vlad rushed him. The Dragon’s eyes jolted open and he took aim. Vlad dived to the side as The Dragon pulled the trigger. The revolver’s hammer swung down and the chamber spun to produce a hollow click. Vlad stopped in his tracks, for the first time, surprised. The Dragon whipped his flask up, spraying its contents into the air. Vlad blocked the liquid with his hand. “Was that it?” He crouched toward the ground, prepared to pounce, and then his hand erupted in blue flames. The Dragon grinned under a backdrop of floating embers. “I am The Dragon. I do not fear fire.”

LAO The Slasher clutched his wrist and screamed. He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged his burning hand in a vain attempt to smother the flames. Lao took patient steps toward him. “Before you die, confirm something for me, Slasher. Who was it that disabled the sprinklers in my casino? It was Jynx wasn’t it?” The Slasher looked up and for a second, forgot about his hand. It was all the answer Lao needed. He sighed, “I guess even I can be blinded by sentiment. If I were to guess, she recruited past Hawks to be her Lions. She used Mice to deliver her guns and drugs. And to think, I had seen this happen all on camera. Hell, I funded it. I suppose this is human nature at its finest.” The only response Lao received was a head splitting shriek. “Hmph,” Lao snorted. “You disappoint me once again, Slasher. Despite what you’ve done, in the end, you were only a pawn.” At the far end of the casino, all the windows shattered. A final support beam collapsed and half the roof caved. A wave of debris wafted over Lao. Only Lao and The Slasher were left inside Lao walked past The Slasher to the front exit. He pushed The Slasher to the ground and kept walking. It was pathetic how easily The Slasher fell. “If there was more time Slasher,” Lao said as he walked off. “I would’ve shown you real hell. But I suppose this will have to do.” “You already showed me.” The Slasher pointed a burning finger at Lao. “You killed Sasha! It was because of you she ran out that day! It was because of you Mice and Hawks even exist!” With a mighty breath, he screamed, “I will cut you!” More bits of wood fell to the ground. As things stood right now, even a single second might prove fatal. Lao pushed the golden handles of Hawk’s Lair and stepped out. “I will cut you!” The Slasher screamed, again and again. Salib stood outside Hawk’s Lair, a safe distance away. “Dragon!” he exclaimed.

Lao walked over to him. Around them stood a handful of guards, about a third of the ones originally in Hawk’s Lair. “Where’s the rest?” Lao asked. He turned to watch Hawk’s Lair burn down. Salib shook his head. “They ran.” Lao shook his head chuckling. Before he knew it, his snicker had blown into a full-out guffaw. Jynx had warned him he was going soft, it turned out nobody had ever been more right. My guards ran because they feared The Slasher more than The Dragon. “Dragon,” Salib said, “we traced the security feeds right before the attack. Jynx disabled the sprinklers.” Lao ended his laughter. “I know,” he said. “It’s time we move on with our plan. Contact our customers and tell them we are about to leak their dirty little secret to the world.” “But Dragon, now of all times? Shouldn’t we deal with this first?” “No,” Lao said. “From here on out, it’s a sprint to the finish. I will bring the world to its knees and they will pay my city what it’s due.” “But” —Salib hesitated— “what about Jynx?” “I will not lose this city to sentiment,” Lao said. He retrieved his revolver along with six bullets. “If the most powerful men in this world will learn to fear me, so will The Boss.” “She’s your daughter.” The Dragon shook his head as he loaded the bullets into his gun. “It’s one life versus two hundred thousand.”

PRINCE Prince sprinted back home. “Flower!” he shouted through panting breaths. “Prince. Where have you been?” Flower stopped mid-step. Footprints in the dirt tracked her nervous pacing. “The Dragon let me go, told me that you’d come right after. What happened?” “Hawk’s Lair is burning.” Flower’s eyes grew large. “What?” “It’s the Lions, they burned down Hawk’s Lair!” “Oh my god,” Flower said. “Prince, we need to find Bolt and Mav and get out of here.” Prince shook his head. “We’ll never get another chance like this.” Flower gave him a look of disbelief. “What are you talking about? We need to escape while we still can! It sounds like a war’s about to break out.” “We can’t escape.” Prince chuckled. “Why do you think The Dragon let us go? It’s because he controls everything in this city. Wherever we run, he’ll be watching. And even if we could run, where would we go? Do you know what’s beyond the borders? What direction do we head? How far do we go? Flower, how do we even find Bolt and Mav?” Flower nudged her head from side to side. “I don’t know.” “Flower, nothing is how we thought it was. We’ve been lied to since day one. I learned the truth in Hawk’s Lair. He controls it all.” “What are you talking about?” “Mice, Flower, Mice! Drops, Hawks, even the pedestrians, he’s responsible for everything!” “You’re not making any sense!” Flower yelled. “Prince, you’re not telling me anything!” Prince faced Flower dead on, his eyes staring into hers. “We’re going back to The Dragon.”

“What?” Flower looked at him like he was crazy. Prince hurried into his tent. “Grab your things. We’re leaving.” “No.” Flower crossed her arms and shook her head. “You have to give me something, Prince. Tell me what’s going on.” “There’s no time.” Prince was already gathering the things from his tent. “Just trust me!” “Prince,” Flower pleaded. “Please tell me something.” When Prince came out of his tent, his face was stern and voice commanding. “Listen to me, Flower. If we don’t move now, we’ll never get the chance to again. Right now, The Dragon needs us. This is the weakest he’ll ever be. I have a plan.” “But Prince, he needs us to get Mav. Mav’s family.” “He’s our responsibility.” “But… but…” Flower could barely start her sentence. Her voice trembled until it waned into silence. “Flower.” Prince gave her a hard look. “Trust me.” Flower gave him a slight nod and left for her tent. Prince let out a held breath. He gripped the silver knife in his pocket. He had yet to cut anyone with it, but he imagined that would soon change. Sorry Sasha, but it turns out, strength is all that matters. He stood and curled one hand into a fist. His broken knuckles pulsed with pain.

BOLT Grey clouds plastered the sky. Every now and then, a sporadic rain drop splattered on his head. If the sky had roared during the previous week’s storm, now it whimpered. Bolt stared at the sloppy graffiti on the wall by Flower’s tent. No doubt, it was her handwriting, but the lettering didn’t cut neatly like usual, it shook and wavered, making slow curls instead. ‘Going to The Dragon. Are Safe.’ It said. Bolt held his fingers up to the letters. The paint was dry. He stared at its last sentence. Below the graffiti, propped against the wall, was a knife with its tip burned black. “Are you really okay?” he muttered to himself. “What are you going to do now?” Lissandra asked from behind him. Even though one of the reasons he came back was to introduce her to his family, he had forgotten that she was even there. She stood behind him in the middle of their home where they had once gathered around every day to eat. “Isn’t it obvious?” Bolt asked, reaching down to take the knife. “You’re not thinking of going against The Dragon are you?” Bolt shrugged. “If that’s what it takes to save them.” “How?” “However I can.” –Bolt turned to see Lissandra with crossed arms— “What?” “It’s The Dragon.” She replied. “He’s dangerous.” “That’s all the more reason I have to.” Lissandra raised her eyebrows, her eyes glistening with worry. “Hawk’s Lair just burned down, something’s coming. Everyone knows it, you were with me at the marketplace today. It was empty. Now is not a good time to take risks.” Bolt nodded. “But it’s the only time I have.”

“Maybe you should lay low for a while, wait for this to blow over.” But by the way Bolt looked at her, it was obvious he had made up his mind. He took the apple out of his pocket and stared at its scarlet skin. “You know; I think I’m going to keep this for now.” “Didn’t we come here so you could give that to her?” Bolt shook his head. “I’ll give it back to her when I pay back my debt.” He tossed it in the air and caught in his other hand before taking a large bite of its side. Lissandra watched his theatrics with the corner of one eyebrow raised. “And how are you going to do that?” “I’ll beat The Dragon.” “Don’t even joke about that.” Bolt looked back, his face the picture of tranquility. “Joking?” He grinned a crescent moon. “Who the hell do you think I am?”

EPILOGUE “Another please,” Lissandra said. She sat inside an empty bar, the only patrons inside were herself and a stranger to her left. They both stared straight ahead as if the other didn’t exist. The bartender poured a clear liquid into Lissandra’s glass. She sniffed it before throwing her head back and gulping down the vile syrup. Vodka, Gunther’s favorite. She was worried about him, it had already been two weeks since he disappeared and one week since she started looking for him. But other than scouring the city, she could think of no other way to locate him and it wasn’t working. “I’ll have what she got.” The man on the stool beside her said with a scratchy voice. It was the first time he had acknowledged her presence. Together they finished their drinks. “So, what’s your story?” asked the stranger without turning. He wore a red baseball cap with some bird on it. He kept his head low so that it hid his face completely. “I do what I have to to get by. Right now, I’m a Mouse,” Lissandra responded. The stranger let out a deep and hoarse laugh. It sounded like he was coughing but the sides of his cheeks lifted in a smile. “I used to be one of those.” Lissandra furrowed her brow. “When?” “Just a few weeks ago, before everything went to shit. It’s a bad time to be a Mouse.” “It’s the only thing I can do right now.” “That’s not true.” The stranger chuckled through his words. “There are so many things you could do instead. You’re just not willing to do anything else.” “Like what?” The stranger turned and for the first time, Lissandra noticed the burn marks from his chin to his ear. His skin looked like an overstretched plastic bag with gouges and rips across it. A gaping hole on his chin glowed white where the bone was.

“You can steal. You can kill.” Staring into his eyes was like staring into an abyss, so dark that not the slightest light could escape. “No thanks,” Lissandra said. She got up and pushed in her stool. “Have a good one.” “Wait.” The stranger held up a hand to stop her. “This one’s on me.” He nodded at the bartender to pour them another drink. When the drinks were poured he grabbed his glass with his right and offered the other with his left. Lissandra stared at the clumps of flesh that rose and fell off his hand like valleys and cliffs. She could see each knuckle through the torn skin. Patches of skin looked like char. “Take it,” He said. Cautiously, Lissandra reached out and grabbed the drink from his hand. When she did, his lips curved into a grin, further stretching the holes in his face. “To those taken too soon and to those who will be soon enough,” he said with his glass raised. Without giving Lissandra a chance to reply, he held his head back and downed the drink. Lissandra set her own drink back on the bar. The stranger dropped a fistful of bills onto the table. He hopped off his seat and walked toward the exit, but stopped at the door. His voice rumbled deep enough to be a growl. “There’s a storm coming, Mouse. Everyone can feel it, in the back of their throat, like an itch just begging to be scratched. And what is that itch? Why, it’s a scream.” Without another word, he left. Lissandra shivered. It felt like a winter breeze had just made its way down her back. She had a feeling that they would meet again.