The Moaning Widow

The siblings found themselves standing covertly behind the wall of a dilapidated house, furtively whispering, briefing about their haphazardly concocted plan.

Pen's perfect recollection had ultimately led the two to their target's base of operation, which was an unassuming tavern adjacent to where they presently stood.

This was where the shady figures, presumably the culprits, turned to a bend to enter a secluded alleyway.

Pen had vividly recounted to his sister the devious manuscript aimed to burgle a merchant's wagon.

A seemingly natural series of events was actually, an evil design to rob a peddler of its goodies, and to the twin's lousy luck, they were just collateral that got picked by the assailants.

The heist was quite simple, to render the wagon immobile by breaking its axle as it then forcibly spilled its cargo. Afterward, the onlookers that greedily rushed to the scattered sundries on the road served as a natural smokescreen.

The only remaining task was to perpetuate the devious play, which was by no means a challenge. The aftermath then proved how effective the artifice was.

By the time the patrol guard intervened, they were welcomed by a ragtag bunch of tramps, immigrants, and the good old sneaky rats, scrambling for leftover crumbs. And the culprits who had already blended with the crowd then faded into obscurity—out of sight, but not entirely out of mind.

Such commotion was quite a rare sight so the twins had to stand to the side, carefreely waiting for the ruckus to die down. However, as their attention was glued to the scene, their awareness of their possessions had gone out the window as well.

By the time realization dawned upon the pair, Pen was only able to mumble in puzzlement, 'W-where?!' as a sweat inducing anxiety crept over him.

Although he attempted to scrutinize his grave mishap, the jumbled mob fleeing like headless chickens deterred his mental focus on making any meaningful, prompt analysis.

"What now?" Paper inquired, raring for a payback. "Can't we just bust in and smack their faces?"

"Of course not! Even if you knock one of them out, you won't be able to tackle all of them at once. You'll eventually gas out," Pen protested exasperatedly and advised, "Just follow my lead, okay?"

Paper was afraid to be censured by her brother once more, relented with a bit of dissatisfaction. "Mm..'kay!"

Just as the pair reached the foot of the Tavern, a rusted storefront with the words "The Moaning Widow" carved on it caught their attention.

The sign further roused their anxiety about the inevitable skirmish that was about to erupt. Fleeing unscathed proves to be quite the herculean task, as well.

'Two kids on a suicide mission, that's what this is,' Pen thought as the incessant beating of his chest chewed on his senses. 'What if things go south..Paper, if only she could flee-'

Although they have nothing of value, lives that were as cheap as a dog's, they could still be sold to some eccentric aristocrats with depraved fetishes. He'd rather bite his tongue to death and end all suffering altogether. But most of all, he hated the prospect of his sister being subjected to such brutal treatment.

Just before the sense of demise could wholly take hold of his brooding heart, a warm hand clasped Pen's hand in a firm grip,

"You're not alone, bro. I have your back.." Paper reassuringly said, her face devoid of angst.

'Sheesh..she's so dense, our lives are at stake here, you know." Pen criticized his sister in his heart. To his surprise, though, the feeling of dread that chipped at waning determination dwindled considerably.

Pen's lips then involuntarily arched into a smile and reminded, "Watch your temper, sis."

"You don't have to tell me, bro!"

Pushing the tavern's battened door open, the lukewarm air of an enclosed compartment brushed against their cheeks.

The mixture of sweat and unwashed bodily grime brought about a fetid stench that repulsed the twins to their core.

The cacophony of noise inside progressively subsided as all eyes locked on to the newcomers that barged in uninvited.

Pen shivered on his boosts as the glares darted on his skin like piercing needles. He still took one step after another, albeit shakily like an elderly on a plank of wood.

"This ain't the place for cubs.."

"Looking for your daddy, little ones? He he he"

The snickers and jeers from the unruly crowd caused the twin's nerves to be taut, tension continued to rise.

"Eh! aren't these Jess' kids? How's ya mommy doing?"

"Ohh wasn't she that fine harlot from Madam Louise's? Just the thought of how I once smashed her hard makes me hard..ugh!"

"She's good, alright. Got my pole jobbed by her and damn, me jucies leaked real quick."

"Ha ha ha!"

"HA HA"

"Ke ke ke.."

As the memory of their mother got smeared by a flurry of slurs from the crowd, an indescribable heat rose to Paper's head. Clenching her fists, she was about to jump at the offenders like a wild beast until a raucous shout shook the tavern into order.

"Zip your filthy mouths you pieces of trash!!"

The commanding voice came behind the tavern's counter, just a few steps from the twins.

"I never thought I'd see you twerps breathing, where's Jess?" The man asked, looking down at the pair with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Mother..is gone," said Pen with a quiver.

"Gone..huh," The man's actions stiffened ever so slightly but regained his composure almost instantly and added, "So what are you doing here? Listen, I've repaid Jess a long time ago, we're even. And even if I want to help you even a little, I can't do that. It's winter, business is stale, plus, I can–"

"We're not here for that.."

The man's string of excuses was rudely cut off halfway by a boy half his size. In front of him was a feeble figure of a kid whose limbs he could effortlessly pluck like dry weeds.

However, he was no homicidal maniac who would jump at some defenseless kid without rhyme nor reason, especially not when it came from an ill-mannered child.

An impudence or two he could ignore. After all, he was an adult with a favorable disposition at the end of the day.

Furthermore, despite the kid's age, he could discern the cunning of an adult, which piqued his interest.

"I'm listening.." he said.

"Your men took something from us, Rick. We need it back," Pen demanded.

The tremble in his voice revealed his fears, yet he articulated his words well.

The short exchange marked the prelude to a heated negotiation.