The Rat's voice echoed ominously off the alley walls.
'Don't be scared. There's nothin' to be scared of...' Benji cursed under his breath. 'It's stupid to be scared... and I ain't neither.'
The worst that could happen... was dying
People died all the time.
It was something every gangster-- every person born in the Realm accepted. Being scared of death all the time-- that wasn't any way to live. Sometimes, that could be the very thing that led to dying.
Benji had seen it. Dying in fear was an ugly death.
"Hey, Doan," The brave Rat reached up to shake the fat man's shoulder. "We gotta go. Mission's f*cked. Gods-damned everything is f*cked."
Benji narrowed his eyes as they slowly adjusted to his surroundings-- darker than sin.
Something was wrong.
It was Doan, alright. It had to be.
The guy had a very specific size and frame-- anyone could pick the fatty out of a crowd. Seven hells, he was probably the fattest gangster in the whole of the States.
Doan was standing in front of a dumpster, arms limp at his side.
--just... staring at it. Real quiet.
There was a dark line that ran down the box's side... a trail of something dripping from under the lid.
Something wet. Something fresh.
Bloody footprints led up to the box... which wasn't really out of the ordinary. Everyone in the Bone Rats had quietly taken care of disagreeable individuals before. Used dumpsters before, too.
That was nothing to be concerned about... like what a guy chose to wear on any given sun.
Doan's clothes-- they were... different than Benji remembered. He was wearing a long jacket or... a military coat of some sort.
Doan was still-- real still. The guy could walk five steps out his front door and he'd usually be wheezing like he was about to have a heart attack.
And... it was damned hard to see, but for some gods-forsaken reason... Doan didn't have a shadow.
"Get BACK!!" Benji shouted.
But it was too damn late.
The lid of the dumpster burst open. Tentacles. A wet, sloshing mass of long worms or whips, curling up on themselves, lashing out with. One of them wrapped around the thin Rat's neck, a half-dozen spiky teeth bleeding his flesh.
"R-RUUU--CKKKHHHHH!"
The tendrils held the guy up, half-a-man off the ground-- and for whatever reason, he lifted his arms up like he'd found some kinda salvation in getting murdered by an evil trash can.
His arms and legs fell off his body. They burst when they hit the ground like rotten fruit. Black blood and guts emptied out underneath him like he was sh*tting everything out.
'Run.' He was trying to say 'run.'
"Yeah, nah," Benji grit his teeth as he drew the trick deck out of his back pocket. "F*ck this fat bastard, ⌈Fan of Cards!!⌋"
He threw two lucky hands at Doan's back; aces, kings, and jacks. When things went south, that was his secret at making a smooth getaway.
The cards exploded in purple pops, loud enough it made his ears rumble-- but with the brightness muted by the blackness of the alley.
Doan's clothes should have been magicked to shreds. It should have been enough to snap him out of whatever the hells was going on. It should have put him down... given him a nasty concussion.
The f*cker didn't even flinch.
pαпᵈα-noνɐ1·сoМ Benji hopped back before turning to run for his life, "F*ckinn' SCATTER!!"
"Kid!!" One of the rats yelled, "Y'gotta help! Soren-- we're gonna lose 'im!!"
Benji heard the words. His body moved.
Before he realized how much of an idiot he was to listen, he was already on Soren's opposite side, straining his back as he pulled on the guy's arm.
Soren had sunk into the pavement up to his waist, screaming bloody murder. That wasn't something to make a normal guy say 'oh, let me jus' help you out, buddy-boy.' The proper response should have been 'f*ck no' and 'f*ck you!'
"The f*ck's goin' on?!" The Rat screamed.
"Shut up and f*ckin' PULL!" Benji shouted.
They were wasting time. They were probably both about to die-- maybe all of 'em.
Benji felt Soren's arm dislocate-- it felt like it was about to tear off before the rest of him were to come up.
But then... something finally gave way. Benji and the other Rat fell on their arses... and Soren's top half, on top of them.
There wasn't anything below the guy's stomach. No guts, no blood. Just darkness.
Soren was shaking real bad, laughing like he'd seen the end of the world. Deep, rumbling 'ha ha ha's bounced off the walls, loud enough to summon half the city's guards... and probably crazy enough to make them know better.
That guy, though... he wasn't stopping to catch his breath. Benji wasn't sure if he was breathing at all.
Then the laughter stopped.
The f*cker was still flapping his gums, but it didn't make a sound.
No laughter. No screaming. It was like Benji's ears didn't want to work anymore.
He turned to the others. They were running.
Their footsteps didn't make any sounds.
They weren't screaming, either.
No-- they probably were.
Benji's mouth was open and he was out of breath. He'd been screaming too.
The Rats scurried into the darkness... right into the shadow's weeping eye. It opened up, staring white with two hourglass pupils, as tall as the buildings surrounding them. The eyelid snapped down with a crunch like a slavering dog's maw.
Benji didn't want to believe it... but one of the Rats left behind a leg with the top end smashed to mush.
He was losing his gods-damned mind.
It was the darkness. It was the silence. It was the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.
He couldn't think sane, anymore. Everything was just too damn loud.
Something thumped beside him. The noise would've made Benji sh*t himself if he hadn't already.
He didn't want to look, but he did.
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