Two Beasts

A mass of men walked through the foggy alley, each solemn and stern. 

Fists clenched tightly, not a word said. 

Mark looked at the sky and saw the clouds churn. 

Everyone else looked ahead. 

The time for fighting had come. 

His heart palpitated in a weird sensation of excitement. He wasn't joyous at all, but the feeling wasn't all from anxiety either. It's almost as if his body knew of the upcoming ordeal, and had decided to perform at its best. 

In this rare moment of dreadful peace, he reflected. 

Not even a year had passed, and his life had turned around - from somewhat rising to diving into a gutter. All his hard work since the war had started had all been rendered to nothing. Even though his aunt had taken nearly all his money, even though he was only able to save scraps after cutting off all of his luxuries, at least he was making some progress, slowly digging himself out of the ditch that was his life. 

But now it all collapsed, and he was about to be put into some sort of fight that he never wanted to be a part of in the first place. 

Only because this war was going on, because Royce wasn't willing to keep him at the bar, because the brunette's parents didn't want him, and because those Spheks are all goddamned lunatics, he was here. 

He lowered his head, sighing. 

From this point, complaints will get him nowhere. It's time to face the future with heartless, despairing dread. 

Behind him, a few people walked with automatic carbines. They were the crucial part of this confrontation, the lifeline. If these men died, the Hounds would be vulnerable to the Spheks. A handful of people would stick in the rear to protect them, which should be fine since the Hounds had greater numbers. 

Feeling into his windbreaker, the cold and metallic touch of the Luger brought a subtle calm over his head. He disassociated, becoming aloof - almost like the world had turned a dull shade of gray. 

That's the way he should be. 

The mass turned left and continued. He jotted it down in his mental map and committed it to memory. 

If he needs to run, knowing the way back will be helpful. Getting trapped in a dead end would be an embarrassing way to die. 

Mark might have been forced to the front by the boss, but he will make sure to slip to the back before anything goes wrong. Actually, he might run out of the fight either way and just watch from the sidelines. From there he could just watch until the ordeal ends and a side wins. If it's the Hounds, that's great; if not, then he will be the first one to run. 

Sometimes it takes courage to harden the heart and get through tough times. At other times, it's courage that gets people killed. That's where cowardness will come in and keep people alive. 

...

The fog never parted but the buildings did. 

It opened up to a large square - maybe a rectangle - of concrete, surrounded by tall structures on each side. It was like a hidden area of recreation. The whole place was perfect for a fight. 

In the distance, he could make out the vague figures of another group. 

The Spheks were waiting. 

A lone silhouette stood out from the rest of the bloodthirsty group, exuding a dominant aura that almost made one want to submit to it. 

Dean gestured for the Hounds to stop, and then continued forward on his own. 

The leader of the Spheks likewise moved forward and the two met in the middle. 

They both stopped at a safe distance from each other. 

Raising his arm with the palm face up, Dean curled his fingers to himself in an asking manner. 

"Give me the people you took hostage before anything else." 

The lunatic leader smiled. 

"Of course." 

Some people were urged into the middle, where they were then held. 

It was Aaron and the few people he had chosen to scout the region. 

He had been caught by the Spheks somewhere along the way and was the cause of this situation. 

Originally, the Hounds were going to launch a surprise attack after finishing their investigations. That plan was scrapped the moment Dean learned that one of his closest people had been captured. 

The only thing brought back to the warehouse was a message. 

It said to openly go to this location, almost like a blackmail. 

Once Dean saw his friend coming back, it must have been a great rush of joy. 

At least one thing went right. 

Under the eyes of the lunatic leader, Aaron and his subordinates ran back to the side of the Hounds. 

Dean's eyes glimmered. 

"So, are you finally going to leave? Or are you planning on becoming a pain for the rest of the time I have? You know that watching over you all while keeping track of all those damned factory owners doesn't exactly make for the best combination." 

The leader of the Spheks shrugged. 

"You know that we will have to sacrifice our desires for what we need. You also know that there is no way two large gangs can survive in this city together. One is eventually going to be wiped out by the other." 

Dean nodded. 

"That's quite the pessimistic outlook, though it isn't exactly wrong." 

He stroked his chin. 

"But I can understand. Even though it is good to keep a hopeful and positive mindset in this type of area, you should at least try to do it. Maybe we won't need to clash, and just spread in our own directions." 

Mark looked at the two with subtle nervousness. Maybe diplomacy would work, maybe not. It all depended on how those two acted. 

The red-eyed leader shook his head. 

"No, that's impossible. Jobs in the central district are dwindling, the slums are constantly growing, and the only place that needs our protection is the factories in your area." 

Dean sighed.

He looked back and saw that Aaron had just joined the mass of people. 

After a short whisper, he inhaled and made his voice as somber and loud as possible.

"In that case, we don't have much choice but to get rid of you."

His finger pointed to the Spheks. 

"Kill them!"