Darkness on the Cobblestone

Darkness covered the alleyway in a net of shadows; muting the already dull colors.

This was a bad part of town; dangerous to the wrong people.

The cobblestone absorbed the sounds of rain as the weather receded, and a shadow of a man clung to the wall of the tunnel. He found comfort in the dark and the rain. He was the right kind of man for this part of Reavador.

Three different sets of blades were hidden among his person, all reachable, and two of them sharp. The other kept dull for when he especially needed a hand getting a hard earned bit of information, but he didnt use that one much. He was more attuned to the powders kept in the pockets of his leather vest.

He slid into the open street, and left the wall to step past a drunkard who was releiving himself on the wall. The drunkard didn't even notice the man in the cloak glide past him. Ahead the shadowed man glimpsed the door of the party house his employer had sent him too.

The Painted Lily.

He was here collecting a payment in full. Or he was going to have to take a couple of fingers instead. His face was drawn in a grimance. As this was somthing he had done many times before, and if possible he would avoid if he could. He swung into the door and was met by the lobby woman. The party house played double as a inn. It was a by the hour establishment ofcourse, but that at least was acceptable to the red collared bastards that patrolled the streets of Reavador and its neighboring towns.

He walked to the desk. The elderly woman gave a start as she had not heard the bulky door close. She cleared her throat and straightened the record book in front of her. Her face was drawn tight and her eyes looked dull.

"Do you need a room?"

He slid up to the small desk that was big enough only to hold the book, and smiled beneath his hood.

"I'm here on the behalf of my employer. I wish to collect a debt. Off the books ofcourse." He slid back his hood and her face went pale.

" Yes ofcourse," she stood and pulled a sting. A bell rang in the other room and a dim muscled dog came out into the rain.

"It will only be a moment."

He replaced his hood, and soon the man they'd sent was in the lobby. The two men left the lobby into a cobblestone hallway. Rain fell on them until they reached the last shack. This door was marked storage and the space was bigger than the others.

The door opened and a cloud of smoke rose into the night. Inside was a fat cat puffing on rolled Ceavainian cigarettes. They were expensive as was the food stacked on the platters at his side. Naked woman lounged in the room their eyes glazed like Ceavanian glass; each had a painted flower on the center of her chest. He cleared his throat for the fat man.

"Scar face, my friend, listen," He stood; huffing from the effort. The naked blond who had been sprawled on his lap came sidling across the room. Two perky breasts rested on his chest as a dainty hand slid under his hood and cupped his face. Her body was loose and soon she had both arms around him. She was tall and her lips played games on the skin of his neck. He made no move to stop her, Nor to encourage.

"I only have half of the money. The other half will be to you by the end of the month."

His voice was cold as he responded.

"Lavarius, my master instructed me plainly,"

He removed his hood and as his hands came down he brought the blond away with them and sent her lazy attentions to the muscle man.

"His clear instructions were, dear friend,"He bit out the words with a dark smile, telling him right now he was anything but,

"Collect the payment in full or bring me both of his hands."

The blood drained from Lavarius's face as Scar face inspected his hands and met his gaze again.

"Yes, you owe quite the debt," he sighed as if bearing sad news to an old friend, "You would be ruined. My master would still receive his payment; have no doubts about that. You. Well, you would go bankrupt paying the nanny who would have to wipe your ass."

Scar face shrugged and walked around the room lighting one of the exspensive Ceavanian cigarettes as he went. He took a drag and twirled it in his hand.

"This cloak is new Lavarius. I would hate to ruin it." He put the cigarette between his lips. and shrugged off his jacket. He handed the cloak to the muscle man and smiled as he stared at his feet. The man was paid to protect Lavarius, but not from him. No paid guard in the entire city would go against him. Not as long as he worked for his employer. Maybe not even after considering their relationship.

Lavarius began to babble hysterically.

"Wait, I'm sure there's some way I can pay you back tonight," he swallowed, "and keep my hands."

Scar face smiled and spread his arms. "I'm listening." The fat man wiped the sweat from his brow.

"You can have half my lilies."

Scar face tisked him, "I dont have a use for prostitutes. At this point you may think about taking those baubles off your hand. That is if they're worth anything," he laughed harshly,

"You certainly wont be wearing them anymore. You do have children dont you Lavarius."

The fat man's blood ran cold and he went to his knees. "Please no."

"Three boys and a girl. I think one of the boys would do just fine. Perhaps the six year old, what a perfect age that is. To learn to be a thief and a lackey."

"Give me until morning. You'll have your money."

Scar face growled and shoved the man's hand down on the table. In a quick motion a sharp blade flashed separating a fat little pinky from a plump hand. Scar face plucked a hankerchief from Lavarius and wrapped it around the pinky. This went in his pocket as Lavarius screamed and cursed, clutching his hand in shock.

"That will buy you until morning. Lavarius the money better be in full."

With that he plucked up his cloak and left. The rain had dissipated by the time he got back to 10th and 5th. The large crumbling building he entered made him shrug off his worries. He climbed the sturdy block stairs to the second floor and went down the wooden hallway. Floorboards were broken and missing, but the roof was mostly intact.

He greeted a woman with deep scars down her face and hands and she smiled.

Ghost had been here since she was fourteen. She had always been an orphan, but an orphan with a beautiful face and many men waiting for her to become of age to marry.

Sadly, at thirteen she had been attacked by a stray dog and no man would marry her now. The bossman had picked her up after that. She had come freely into the brotherhood. The only women among the thieves of Salvador palace.

He passed her on his way to the room at the end of the hall.He had put the pinky in the gutters on the way here, and now he threw a bloody hankerchief down on a large oak desk.

Snakeeye Sylvador was one of the two biggest crime lords in Reavador, and he carried a mean walking stick with an emerald hilt. He was known for his diamond business and wealth, but scar face knew him as boss, crime lord, and father.

"What's this?"

He said ignoring the young boy in the corner of his office who had tears streaming down his face. Probably a new "recruit".

"A downpayment on Lavarius's debt. A debt that will be paid in full tomorrow morning."

The older man sighed; annoyed.

He probably thought Scar had gone to easy on him, but Scar had paid his dues, He felt a cold chill sweep over him as he remembered just how true that statement was.

"Very well then."

The man turned back to the trembling boy with a cold assessing look, and Scar went away-knowing that he was dismissed. He climbed the last stairwell in the building. At the top was a single room, his room. The room was small, but the floor was sturdy. The room had a small rack of clothes and behind that a balcony you would miss if you weren't looking for it. The walls had a single window overlooking the streets of Reavador, and in the distance he could see the richest parts of the city.

He laid in his hammock and stared at the clear Ceavainian glass globe that he had stolen from a wealthy Ceavainian aristocrat. It covered the gaping hole in his ceiling quiet nicely. The rain fell over the globe and painted the room in splashed shadows. He gazed at the one painting hung in his room. A picture of his mother; her icy blue eyes were alive and glimmering in the sun. Eyes that matched his too a T.

"She was nothing but a whore." his father had said once. He closed his eyes and pictured her laughing as she was in the painting. He had never met her, because she had died, two months after his birth. Somthing his father had told him numerous times was less than convenient.

Ghost appeared in his doorway. She had an envelope with a snake on it. Another job. She threw the envelope down on his chest. "He's really been working you as of late." She said offhandedly as she left him alone.

He shrugged and tore the paper from its pouch. Upon reading it he sat up, and tore a hand through his dark hair. He knew this day was coming. He was getting too old for this. Becoming a man who could think for himself was risky business as far as Snakeyes was concerned.

Or maybe, it was because Snakeyes never intended to pass down his business to him anyway that the jobs were getting smaller at twenty eight.

He had strictly been an assassin for the past year and now this?

They were trying to retire him.

He chuckled darkly and twirled the envelope in his hand absently. His next job would involve kidnapping a wealthy man's daughter and randsoming her.