Chapter 3 Coin Flip

Caspian leaped out of bed, instinctively ducking as flames danced past his head, singeing his hair. The acrid scent of smoke filled the air, and adrenaline surged through him. He couldn't waste a second.

Dashing forward, he charged toward the intruders. One of them was tall and fit, with pale skin and striking blonde hair, brandishing a knife, ready for close combat. The other thug, his twin, summoned a fireball in his hand, the flames crackling ominously.

Caspian pivoted, dodging the fireball as it shot past him, illuminating the room with a fierce glow. The sudden move caught both intruders off guard, and in that brief moment of confusion, he seized the opportunity.

Without a second thought, he launched himself out the window, shattering the glass as he went. He gripped the windowsill tightly, his heart pounding as he hung outside, gasping for breath. The cool night air offered a brief reprieve, a stark contrast to the chaos within.

The thug on the left, frustration etched across his face, motioned toward the window. "Don't let him get away or the boss will kill us both!"

Caspian conjured an ice javelin, his magic flowing through him with fierce clarity. With a swift motion, he hurled the javelin back into the room just as the second thug leaned out to check on him.

The sharp tip struck true, piercing through the thug's neck. He gasped, eyes wide with shock, as he fell backward into the room, extinguished fireball forgotten, leaving only silence in his wake.

Caspian dropped to the ground, rolling to absorb the impact. The cool night air rushed in, refreshing against the heat of the battle he'd just narrowly escaped. He glanced back at the window, knowing the remaining thug would soon regroup, the threat still looming.

With urgency coursing through him, he sprinted down the alley, searching for cover, every instinct on high alert. Whoever the intruders were, they clearly had an agenda, and if they were here, that meant he was being hunted.

As he turned a corner, he spotted a figure leaning against a wall—Jeb, a petty thief with a reputation for trouble. Caspian recognized him immediately.

"Hey, buddy! You look like you've seen a ghost!" Jeb called out, his voice shaky yet laced with bravado.

"Not now," Caspian snapped, trying to push past him, but Jeb's eyes lit up with the scent of panic.

"C'mon! I can help you out. I know this city like the back of my hand," Jeb insisted, falling into step beside him.

Caspian glanced back, a knot tightening in his stomach. What did Jeb know? But he couldn't dwell on it; he had to keep moving.

"I know there's trouble brewing with the gangs—"

Before he finished, a shadow loomed behind Caspian. He turned around just in time to see Jeb lunging for him. He prepared to resist, but before he could—

BAM!

A bullet whizzed through the air, the sharp crack echoing in the alley. Caspian heard it before he saw it, but the warning came too late. Jeb's grip went limp, his eyes widening in shock as he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

As Jeb slumped, the surviving twin stepped into view, his face a painting of pure hatred. The tension in the air thickened as he locked eyes with Caspian, a predator ready to strike.

Flames flickered to life in the twin's hands, illuminating the alley in a menacing glow. "You're not getting away this time," the twin sneered, hurling a fireball directly at Caspian.

Thinking quickly, Caspian ducked into the next alley, sprinting with all his might. He turned another corner, desperate to put distance between himself and the relentless twin.

"Come out, little wretch! I'll make you pay for what you did to my brother! NO! I'LL SKIN YOU ALIVE! I'LL PULL YOUR NAILS AND BURN YOU!"

Caspian pressed on, heart pounding as he waited for the twin to round the corner. Just as the man appeared, BAM! He fired on instinct, but Caspian was quicker. He slammed his hand into the man's gun hand, redirecting the weapon toward the sky and wrestling for control.

The man grunted, focusing on their tug of war, but Caspian had a different plan. In a swift move, he reached for the man's belt, grabbing his knife and slashing violently, severing the man's hand. The gun clattered to the ground as the twin howled in pain.

With zero hesitation, the twin retaliated, unleashing a fireball that slammed into Caspian, throwing him against the wall. The impact felt like a horse kicked him, the scent of burning clothes and flesh filling his nostrils. Dazed but determined, he shook off the disorientation. Too bad! Been there, done that, bastard!

Caspian recovered in almost a heartbeat. With a surge of adrenaline, he jumped, slamming both feet into the man's chest. They crashed to the ground, but the twin's injury made him a moment slower. Caspian scrambled to his feet first, driving his fist into the man's throat.

In the next instant, he rammed his elbow straight into the twin's nose. "It's over; there's no coming back from that. I've broken enough bodies to know."

Grabbing the man by the neck, Caspian slammed him against the wall, holding the knife to his throat. "Who sent you two clowns?"

The man spat a mouthful of blood at Caspian's face, his eyes filled with defiance. "Just do it, pussy!"

As the bloody spittle landed on his face, Maple felt a surge of adrenaline, a twisted thrill coursing through his veins. The man, weak and desperate, struggled to keep his footing. His eyes darted around, searching for escape, but there was none. Maple cracked his knuckles, savoring the anticipation.

"Good.. maybe its better this way" he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

The man shook his head, a raspy sound escaping his lips, but Maple was far from finished. He swung his fist, connecting with the man's jaw. The satisfying crack echoed in the dimly lit alley, and he reveled in the moment. He felt the man crumble, his breath hitching as pain radiated through his skull.

"You think you can just ignore me, Maple?" he wheezed, the name a desperate plea. "Just let me—"

Maple cut him off with a brutal kick to his ribs, relishing the way the man's body bent at an unnatural angle. His breaths came in sharp gasps, each one a reminder of the power Maple held over him. The man tried to speak again, words barely forming around his crushed windpipe, but the sound of breaking bones drowned out his mumbling.

"Come on, give me something good," Maple taunted, a cruel smile creeping onto his lips as he stomped down on the man's fingers, feeling the crunch beneath his boot. The man screamed, the sound raw and primal, yet Maple didn't flinch. This was nothing.

He twisted the man's arm behind his back, forcing him into a position of utter vulnerability. "Where's the fun in silence?" he taunted, and without hesitation, he snapped the man's wrist.

"Tell me what I want to know!" he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper. Blood dripped from the man's lips as he writhed, each movement only eliciting more violent blows.

The man's eyes were wide, pleading, yet Maple could see the life slipping from him with each passing moment. Despite his condition, he managed to choke out a few words, "Sleeping Forest."

"Sleeping Forest?" Maple echoed, the phrase tasting bitter on his tongue. He laughed, a deranged sound that bounced off the alley walls. "What does that even mean? You'll have to do better than that!"

The man's breath came in ragged gasps, the weight of impending death hanging heavily in the air.

Maple leaned in closer, his breath hot against the man's ear, "You're going to have to speak up, friend," he mocked, delivering another punishing blow. Even as the man gasped for breath, Maple continued his assault, the man's pleas muffled by the sounds of cracking bones and his relentless cruelty.

As the final light faded from the man's eyes, Maple felt a flicker of regret. Regret for not making it last longer.

As he released the man, the body crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. The adrenaline began to ebb, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He muttered to himself, "Sleeping Forest, huh?"

His gaze fell on the tattoo etched into the man's neck—a barren black tree silhouetted against the pale crescent moon, its twisted branches reaching upward as if grasping for something lost. The image sent a chill down his spine, a haunting reminder of the darkness lurking in the city.

"So that's who killed old John," he murmured, realization dawning. "They're after me now?"

He let out a harsh laugh, a mix of disbelief and defiance. "Let them come."