Then he felt his heart lurched into his throat. No… no, he thought. No, damnit! Why now, why him?
Ruk stood before him, quiet. He seemed surprised by Silas' sudden appearance, an unlit cigar in his hand. There was another man next to him, and he looked in equal surprise at the boy that had come crashing out of the alley.
"Well," Ruk muttered, seeming unsure of what to say, "hello there, dollface."
Silas heard the stomping feet of the four as they rounded the corner. They saw Ruk immediately, stopping in their tracks. Their eyes filled with confusion, and a bit of fear. They glanced at Silas, and their expressions turned quickly back into ones of malicious intent.
One raised his gun, aiming it at Silas. Before he could pull the trigger, Ruk calmly raised his hand. The mans own hand, gun in it, rammed into his head. They man fell back, unconscious. Ruk nonchalantly took out a lighter, lighting his cigar.
"Fuck," one muttered, "it's a damned monster…."
"Is there a problem here?" Ruk asked, putting the lighter away.
"He – this litter fuck, he owes us money!" one said, pointing at Silas. Ruk raised his eyebrows as he took a drag from the cigar.
"Oh? Well, I never expected you to be the gambling type, sweetheart."
Silas opened his mouth to argue, but he quickly realized it was futile. He stood, looking at the now three that stared at him with hatred and malice. He noticed Aarav next to him, tense and ready to stop anyone from hurting Silas.
"We need him," one growled in a low voice, glaring straight at Silas. Silas tried not to look away, not wanting to show the fear he definitely felt. He was sure it showed in his eyes and the way he tensed up as Ruk wrapped an arm around his shoulders, though.
"How much does he owe?"
"None of your damn business," another hissed, glaring at Ruk with the same malice now. Ruk took another drag from the cigar, raising an eyebrow.
"Piss of a don, doll? Figures. Most don's are shallow enough to kill for a few bucks," he said in a dismissing tone. One of the men bristled.
"That's not it! He don't get to just run from a payment and get away with it. That's not how our world works, monster," he spat. A slightly evil look came into his eyes. "If you can't handle that, go back to where you came from."
Ruk took another drag from his cigar, puffing out the red smoke calmly. It hid the anger that began to build in him quite well.
"Orah," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the man that accompanied him. "Your bar is open, is it not?"
Orah gave Ruk an agitated look. Sighing, he nodded regardless.
"Wonderful! We'll be there."
"No, you're not goin anywhere, you fuckin monster!"
Ruk glanced at the man. "Take care of this however you wish," he said. Orah gave the men an evil grin, his fire-orange eyes seeming to glow. With that, Ruk teleported away, bringing Silas – and, unknowingly, Aarav – with him.
Aarav covered his mouth with his arm, eyes wide in shock. Silas immediately crouched down, holding his stomach. He felt nauseous – extremely nauseous. His stomach was churning, and for a moment, he truly felt he would throw up. Perhaps it was a good thing he didn't have much to eat, he thought morbidly.
"Hm," Ruk blinked, glancing at Silas. He snuffed out his cigar on a cig tray. "I forgot that happens." Aarav glared at Ruk with hatred, but he couldn't be bothered to threaten or insult him, his own stomach doing circles.
"Alright, up we go," Ruk grunted, pulling Silas up and carefully pushing him onto the seat. He watched Silas continue holding his stomach, mouth clamped shut. Now, Ruk walked around the counter, crouching down. He grabbed to glasses, placing them on the counter. He filled one with water, the other with some sort of alcohol. He pushed the cup of water towards Silas.
He took a sip from the alcohol, raising an eyebrow slightly. "It'll wear off soon enough, don't worry."
Silas glanced at the water. It wasn't very appealing, in his opinion. In all honestly, he felt if he drank it, he would regret it. He covered his mouth slightly, looking away. Ruk wasn't fully lying, though; the effects were quickly vanishing.
"So," Ruk mused aloud, taking another sip, "what did you do?" Silas gave him a slightly confused look. "You know. To piss of the don. That is what you did, is it not?"
"I…" Silas started. He paused, chewing his cheek. Why did he feel so compelled to talk to him? That wasn't fair! Ruk was waiting, though, staring with an eyebrow cocked. He frowned a little, looking at the floor. "I avoided a protection fee."
Ruk stared a moment, quiet. Then, he started to chuckle again. "Ah… of course. To think I even considered you to be a gambler." He shook his head, taking another sip. The few glanced to the door as it was pushed open.
Silas covered his mouth, eyes widening. Orah had entered the room. There was a spot of blood on his cheek, along with a lot more blood on his fancy clothing. Briefly, Silas felt the sickness returning, looking away. Ruk smirked.
"Enjoy yourself?" he asked. Orah wasn't smiling though. He didn't look at all amused. He brushed a spot of dirt off his shoulder, a slight glare on his face.
"Blood is so… messy," he grumbled. He began to walk across the room. He opened a door leading to a backroom, glancing at Ruk with a scowl on his face. "Stay out of my alcohol. That's expensive, you drunk prick."
Ruk glanced at Silas as Orah entered the backroom. He shrugged, pouring another cup of the alcohol. He kept the bottle out, walking around the counter, cup in hand. He sat in the stool opposite Silas, staring at him while sipping at the cup.
Silas glanced at Aarav. He was sitting in a chair, head in his hands. He seemed to not be paying attention, very irritated.
"He… he owns the bar?" Silas asked, looking back to Ruk. He was trying to ignore the pain that still lingered in his stomach. His mouth felt dry. So, reluctantly, he took the cup. He took a small sip as he watched the smug look on Ruk's face.
"Indeed he does."
"You know you have a problem when your best mate is a bartender," he muttered. Ruk raised his eyebrows. He seemed, to Silas' relief, amused by this. The relief didn't last that long, though, quickly switching to slight confusion. Why was he so amused at everything Silas said? He felt uncomfortable… he didn't like not knowing when Ruk would snap. He wish it would just happen already, so it wouldn't be so surprising later.
"Twenty of your strongest drinks couldn't make me drunk, darling," Ruk chuckled. "Now, a drink of our alcohol… well, you'd be dead, I assume." The amusement was clear in his eyes and voice as he said that, making Aarav tense and look up. He had already decided before, but he was reminded now that he hated this man.
"Still a drunk," a voice muttered. Ruk glanced over his shoulder, watching as Orah shut the door to the backroom. Ruk grabbed the bottle of alcohol, topping himself off. He knew what Orah would do next. His assumption was correct; Orah scowled bitterly, snatching the bottle up and returning it to its spot below the counter.
Orah had cleaned himself up well. He had changed his shirt to a dark blue-purple button-up shirt; before, he had worn a black vest over a blue dress shirt. His purple hair was a bit tousled now. He seemed to have attempted to smooth it out, but clearly hadn't spent much work on it. The blood on his face was also cleaned.
Orah glanced at Ruk now. His bitter expression seemed to soften. It was replaced with one that seemed… slightly worried. "So, Ruk…" he paused, clearing his throat. "Have you spoken to your brother at all?"
Silas watched, almost in awe as Ruk's easy, smug expression faltered. He took a swig from the alcohol, looking at Orah.
"The hell'd you do to piss him off that bad? He won't tell me a damn thing." Silas glanced at Orah now. He was sweating a bit, pulling at the collar of his shirt. He glanced away from Ruk's questioning eyes. "He's pissed, Orah. I don't know what you did, but there's no way I can get you outta this now. Sorry."
"Fuck," Orah muttered. Silas wondered who 'he' was. Ruk's brother, he knew – but why was it so bad to get this man angry? Looking at Ruk again, Silas realized it. Ruk was a killer. Why wouldn't his brother be one too?
Ruk shook his head, smug expression returning. It didn't look quite as easy, though. "Know where your apartment is, doll? I could walk ya, if you'd—"
"No," Silas said quickly. He knew Aarav had barked out the same word at the same time. He didn't mean to offend Ruk, per se, but he didn't like the idea of him knowing where Silas lived. He stood, clearing his throat slightly, attempting to correct himself. "No… no thank you."
Silas left the bar, finding his way to his apartment after a long while. It was past midday now, and he still felt hunger. He knew he didn't have much to spend, though. He decided to sit inside his apartment, instead.
"What do you want to do, Aar?" Silas questioned. Aarav was sitting against the wall, eyes closed.
"Sleep in peace," he muttered in response. Silas gave an exaggerated sigh. If Aarav had it his way, that's all he would do.
"Maybe we can find something fun to do – something new," he suggested. He wrinkled his nose a bit. "Something that… has nothing to do with murderers."
"Sounds delightful," Aarav grumbled, his voice thick with sarcasm. Or not, Silas thought with an inward sigh. He laid back on the empty floor of the living room, staring at the roof. It took mere seconds for the boredom to set in. Silas wondered how Aarav could do this so often.
A knock came to the door, making the two look up. Almost immediately, Silas felt his mouth go dry. Had… had Ruk followed him?
Silas wasn't sure why that was the first thought that popped into his head. Yet… he couldn't dismiss it that easy. Even as he made his way to open the door, he braced himself – for what exactly, he wasn't sure.
Silas almost let out a sigh of relief as he saw it wasn't Ruk behind the door. It was a man in a white button-up, sleeves rolled up, and black pants. His brown hair was slicked back, and his green eyes looked upon Silas with disdain. He didn't seem incredibly happy to be here, Silas noticed.
"Come outside," he grumbled. Aarav had stood up, standing behind Silas now, watching the man with suspicious eyes. Silas gave the man a baffled look, and the man sighed. It seemed such a large chore to explain himself, but he did anyway.
"Samuel's holdin a meetin. Now if ya wanna keep yer feet, ya better start movin em."
"Sam… Samuel?" Silas questioned, confused. The man scowled at his obliviousness.
"Samuel, yer landlord? The guy that collects yer fees? Gods – just get yer ass down there!" he barked.
With only the slightest of ideas of who this Samuel guy was, but not wanting to upset this clearly already bitter man, Silas and Aarav exited the room. Silas shut and locked his door and began to make his way outside.
All the tenants of the apartment were gathered outside the apartment complex. Silas pushed his way through the crowd, trying to see what they were looking at. Standing on a bench to be seen was a man in a black button-up shirt and black pants. He was slightly pale, his black hair slicked back. Silas assumed this man was Samuel.
"Odd choice of colors," Aarav muttered. He frowned, tilting his head. "Or, lack thereof."
"Evening!" Samuel called out, catching the attention of the crowd. He had a smug grin plastered on his face. Even from where Silas stood, though, he could see the clear disgust fort the poor people that surrounded him in the man's eyes.
"As you may know, you lot will be getting a new landlord. Some information on them… lets see, lets see… well, if you thought I was bad, you're in luck!" He gave an evil grin. "For this landlord, he is far, far worse."
Murmurs passed through the crowd. "He will tear you limb from limb if you so much as miss a dime. He will kill you for sport, if you look at him wrong!" Samuel gave a laugh at the terrified, pale faces that looked up at him. He shook his head, his face quickly changing to mock, exaggerated sadness.
"I regret to inform you," he said, sounding anything but regretful, "that unfortunately, our dearest friend Liam has passed to a… well. 'Better' place. So!" He clapped his hands together, grinning as some jumped at the sudden noise. "You will have to pick a new sacri – oh, pardon me, I mean person to take your money to your new landlord! Half your payment is due in a weeks' time, as a… trial run, of types."
Samuel smiled an ugly smile now, winking. "That is all! You may go back to… err… whatever the hell it is you people do," he muttered, waving his hand in a rude, dismissive way. He hopped off the bench, leaving the remaining crowd to mutter in quiet fear. Some quickly ran back into the safety – what safety there was – of the dingy walls of the apartment.
A few stayed, though. It was not a lot, considering how many were just out, but there was still too many for Silas to count now. Perhaps twenty, or thirty?
The group gathered around now, speaking amongst each other.
"We need to find someone to bring out money," one muttered.
"No one wants that," another grunted. "Liam was voted."
Silas glanced around. All the people were pale, looking nearly physically sick with worry. What was worse, though, was that they seemed so… used to it. Silas felt a bit of sadness hit his heart as he saw the bags under their eyes. This town… it wasn't much different than where he came from, was it?
But… would he run again? Would he just escape this town, skipping town to town, with only the hope to find a place without a don? No. He didn't have the money for that, and truthfully, neither did he have the will.
He wanted to stay… not just stay, though. He wanted to help. He took a deep breath, glancing at Aarav. Aarav gave him an almost pleading look, knowing what was coming next.
"Please, for the love of the gods, Silas, don't—"
"I'll do it," Silas said, turning his attention back to the group. Aarav threw his arms up, looking at the sky.
"For fucks sake!"
The group went silent, looking at him in seeming shock. Had this boy really just… offered to do this? To be a practical sacrifice? Did he even know what he was agreeing to?
A woman stepped forward, offering him a small smile. "No, dear, don't say that… we wouldn't want you to get hurt, if… if things… well, if things go wrong."
Silas tensed a bit, lifting his chin. Gods, did he hate being treated like a child.
"And you?" he said confidently. "I don't want you lot to get hurt either. Besides, I'm not a boy… I can handle myself, no matter the situation."
The smile faltered, before fully dropping. The woman sighed, looking down. After a moment, she nodded, slowly. "Alright. Just… be careful, will you? These men, they aren't—"
"They aren't good people. I know." Silas softened a little after saying that. He didn't mean to sound so rude, he had just let his emotions steer him blindly. He took a deep breath, offering the woman a soft smile. "Thank you. But I'll be alright, ok?"
Aarav pinched his nose, sighing. He knew that last part was also aimed at him, but he didn't want to accept it. He looked at Silas now, silent. Silas was always rushing into things without thinking, he thought bitterly. One day that would get him killed.
Aarav glanced down slightly. No. No, it wouldn't. Not with him around.