Reunited?

After my time at Hog's Rest Inn, I was on my way to the base camp to hand in my brief before encountering a mess. While discreetly walking down the shadowy city streets, I heard noises coming from a back alley. As I approached the alley's entrance, I saw the same drunk from the inn, surrounded by three rough-looking individuals pinning him against the wall. The more I stared, the more I got to look at the man's appearance. He was tall and dishevelled, with an uneven beard and long, wavy raven black hair draped over his young-looking face. He wore a stained white tunic with brown trousers ordained with an ornate sword belt crested with a raven on the centre buckle. Suddenly feeling an urge of helpfulness, I decided to lend a hand to someone who seemed down on their luck.

"Hey, I know he might be a shitty gambler, but there is no need to gang up on him," I joked with a smile as I approached the scene.

"Shut your dirty half-blood mouth and walk away while you still can."

It surprised me he could tell my race with my hood covering my pointed ears. In amusement, I removed my hood, letting it rest on my shoulders as the cold air blew through my long hair. The first thug, who we'll call Larry, spat, turning to look at me.

"Yeah, walk away before we have to beat you, along with this piece of half-blood trash."

A second thug, who we'll call Curly, said through his stained, crooked teeth, formed into a mischievous smile.

"Look, I'll pay whatever the man owes if you let him go. The man obviously had a bad night, "I articulated, raising my hands in a friendly manner and stopping my stride.

"Even IF you were to pay this fool's tab - I still gotta teach him a lesson for hitting on my girl," the tallest thug, who we'll call Moe, said, holding the man against the wall.

In a gruff voice, the man said, "She wasn't even THAT good-looking."

Following the man's comment, Moe sent a swift knee to his stomach and a hard right fist to the man's face. The man smiled, showing his blood-coated teeth, arguably forming a handsome smile. Angered, Larry, holding the man against the wall, punched him again, leaving him with what would later become a black eye.

"You keep your tongue tied before we cut it out, bastard!" Larry yelled angrily.

The beaten man then let his head fall forward, presumably to release some tension from his neck, his long hair falling across his bruised face. 

I couldn't tell how long the group had been in the alley. It was apparent, however, that they had been beating the drunk for a while. The more I looked at the man, the more familiar he became. At first, I thought he looked familiar because I had seen him at the inn before, but as Moe lifted the man by his hair, I saw his eyes. Those unique grey eyes are one in a million, I thought. It reminded me of my brother, my fraternal twin, Corpus, who shared my same grey eyes. Initially, I just wanted to lend a hand to let off some steam, but seeing what looked like my brother being beaten in the street, I felt an anger I'd never felt. My rage began to bubble and twist deep within my being. Livid, I made my approach.

"Do you even know who the fuck we are?" Curly said as he walked towards me, "We're members of the Black Hand; you wouldn't touch us unless you had a death wish."

He stopped in front of me, making eye contact in an attempt of intimidation. "We gave you a chance to walk away, but it appears you want to join your friend there."

Recognising his shoddy tactics didn't work, Curly threw a right punch, aiming for my face. I stepped inward toward him, grabbing his arm and flipping him over my shoulder. The bitch fell hard with a loud thud. He was stunned and attempted to stand. In response, I kicked his knee to the side, shattering it and making the thug fall again, screaming in pain and agony. I then crushed his windpipe, silencing the screams. As I turned around, I saw another thug trying to rush me with his shitty knife work.

I sidestepped Larry as he tried to swing his dagger downward at me. I further planted my foot in his stomach, sending him tumbling backwards and falling on his ass. He rolled onto his feet and ran at me once more. He swung his knife at me again, and as his arm moved past me, I grabbed his wrist and forced his arm behind his back. As I pushed his wrist further up his back, the pain made him drop the blade, and I kicked it away.

"I told you shit-heads to let the man go," I grunted. "But it seems we have to break a few bones." The wannabe gangster struggled, attempting to free himself from my grip. "You thugs always resort to violence." I then tightened my hold on his arm. "I just wanted to solve this easily." Ripping his shoulder from its socket, I tossed the thug to the side.

When he fell prone, I snapped his neck, killing him. I looked at Moe and yelled, "Let him go, and I don't have to kill you!" Moe tossed the man down and unsheathed the knife strapped to his hip. "I guess you made your choice." In reaction to his movement, I pulled my knife from the sheath on my lower back and readied it ahead, pointing the tip at my enemy's throat. I gave the thug a cheeky smirk and glanced at Corpus; in that split second, he rushed me with his blade. I reacted purely on instinct as I attempted to dodge the knife coming at me. His jabs were quick as he tried to stab me. I stepped on an uneven stone in the alley, and my foot slipped, allowing his knife to slice a deep cut into my arm. 

In response, I thrust my dagger at him, leaving an equally deep slash on his face. As the thug swung at me again, I dodged under and changed my grip on the knife; as I jammed it into Moe's leg, he let out a resounding scream of pain and terror. I guess that scared the bastard because, as he limped backwards, he tried to swing at me with a horrified look. As he was stepping back, I found my way behind him. After I ripped my knife from his leg and sliced the tendon behind his knee, the man stood on his other leg in absolute fear. As I began circling him, he fell to his knees. The man was in tears as he knelt on the ground before me. As he started begging for his life, apologising for beating my brother, I thought back to the first time I was in this situation. Dismissing the thought, I briefly listened to his pleas for mercy. However, unbeknownst to him, I had a no-survivor rule. I slowly walked behind him and pulled his head back by his forehead.

"Pray to whatever gods you worship," I said as I slowly dragged my dagger across his neck, painting the snow in the alleyway a deep crimson red. 

I pushed the dead man aside before running to Corpus. "Corpus, are you okay?" I said with a worried look. Corpus coughed and looked upwards at me. His wavy black hair naturally cascaded across his face, presenting his bloodshot, teary grey eyes and bruised face. As I raised my lantern to observe the damage, he saw my face for the first time. As his eyes met mine, I felt warm tears uncontrollably fall down my cheeks. The touching moment abruptly ended as Corpus decided to punch me square in the nose. I stumbled backwards, grabbing my nose and ensuring he didn't fucking break it. "What the hell was that for!?!" I yelled at him.

"Fuck you! You're supposed to be dead! How are you here!?" Corpus screamed with tears streaming down his face. "You left us! You left me! Why are you even here?" Corpus pushed me to the side.

"I'm here to help you. Why else would I be here?" I shouted.

Corpus angrily muttered, 'Do you even know what today is?' I paused in thought. 'It's the anniversary of your death,' Corpus said as he began trying to stand. I reached for Corpus. In response, he swiped my hand away. I stood dumbfounded, unable to think of what to do next. Corpus stood with difficulty and began limping away.

"Wait!" I yelled as Corpus continued limping. "I'm your brother; at least let me help you home."

Corpus stopped and turned to look at me, "My brother died three years ago." He continued to limp away, disappearing into the night.