'Who are these thugs?!'
All it took was one look for Roach to tell they were trouble, their tattoos proved it. In these parts, unless you're involved in a gang you wouldn't have a tattoo.
'They both had skull tattoos on their arms so that had to mean they weren't affiliated with the other guy I killed. That begs the question who are they and why do they care about the burly old drunkard dead on the ground over there?'
Roach looked over at the direction of the body. There were several houses between there and here so either these guys saw him kill the guy or they just assumed he did it. In that case, a simple lie could get him out of this mess.
"Hey quit spacing out and answer us you disgusting brat did you kill that dead son of a bitch back there!" yelled one of the thugs brandishing a foot-long knife.
The thug was pale-skinned and unusually tall standing well over six feet tall but was shockingly thin for someone of his height. He also had scabs all over his arms and he kept twitching like he was on something.
He had no shirt which exposed most of his dirty malnourished body. As for his pants, they were shorts that looked to be stitched together from dozens of pieces of missed matched brown colored cloth patches, held together by an old piece of rope that was used as a makeshift belt.
He breathed heavily and had an unstable air around like he was ready to start slashing with that knife at a moment's notice. His bulging crazy looking bloodshot eyes only further added to the notion that he was off his rocker.
"Stop staring you bitch!" shrieked the man while he scratched his head of long wiry black hair full of lice.
Roach quickly shrank against the ground under his crazed gaze, trying to look as pathetic as possible, he put on his best puppy face and whimpered "No sir it wasn't me...I swear it."
"Tsk cut the bullshit kid I saw you slash that punk's throat but don't worry we ain't here to hurt you or anything we just wanna thank you." Said the other thug his voice deep and husky.
He had ebony skin and wore a pair of tattered brown pants and a scratchy-looking white tunic. He was a little short but pretty bulky and was completely hairless, not even having a pair of eyebrows. His weapon was a small single handheld hammer.
Roach almost felt like laughing at the funny-looking black man. He had some crazy muscle on that short frame of his and it made him look like some kind of black dwarf, except he had no beard.
"What's so funny!?" asked the short ebony skinned man a vein visibly bulging on his forehead.
"It's nothing," Roach quickly said.
"Good I thought it was nothing anyway, I wanted to thank you. That drunk piece of shit was from a rival gang called the Ghetto Ghosts. He kept causing trouble on our turf. We wanted to get rid of him for a while now but unfortunately, if we did it could start a gang war. However, you graciously did it for us so thanks a lot kid." The man then smiled and walked closer to whisper something in his ear.
"Listen up the Ghosts are gonna find out you did this so I think it's in your best interest that you join up with us, after all, a cold-blooded killer like you could be very useful." The man then backed away giving him one last grin before turning to his skinny companion to leave.
As they both began walking away Roach thought about what the black dwarf said. He wasn't sure what to do next but he decided to follow the man's advice and go with them, from a safe distance of course.
"Smart move you little vermin!" cried out the lanky drugged-out-looking man, his short friend nodding at his words.
Roach ignored their snickering and followed a few steps behind them. His body, close to the ground on all fours, ready to jump up and run at the first sign of danger.
Roach followed them to a large three-story structure made of thousands of steel plates layered on a stone base.
It looked unsightly but it was still way better built than any other structure in the area.
Roach could tell from the sturdy materials used to build it that the owners wanted this place to last unlike how the other structures were built.
Everyone in the slums built their houses assuming they would be demolished at one point or another.
The homeowners would always use old beat-up materials in the construction and built them shabbily without caring what they looked like.
'Who in the right mind would build a structure like this out in the slums?!'
Roach watched the odd-looking duo enter the building through the unguarded front door. The small black man gave him a look before walking inside. It was clear from that look he wanted him to follow him inside.
Roach was weighing his options but no matter how he looked at it, it was in his best interest to follow them inside.
The entire slums were ruled by criminal gangs meaning if he wanted to avoid getting killed by those Ghetto Ghost guys Roach had to join another gang.
'Oh God, I'm gonna regret this I just know it!'
Ignoring all the red flags Roach entered the structure. Upon setting foot inside a strong odor assaulted his nose.
'It's like a mix of sweat and battery acid!' Roach simply didn't know how else to describe it.
Plugging his nose Roach looked around the dimly lit room catching a glimpse of tables full of drugs and half-naked women.
'What the fuck! Is this a gang hideout or a topless bar!'
"Hey kid this way!" said a shockingly deep unknown voice.
Roach looked over at a large table at the farthest end of the room and under the disgusted looks of the other men and naked women, quickly rushed over to the unknown voice.
The gangsters and whores scrutinized the feeble child. No one in the room was what you'd call gorgeous but even they could agree this kid was ugly.
His skin had been deeply bronzed by the sun but somehow still looked discolored like his skin has been coated in dark grime since he was born.
His face didn't look any better, his nose was crooked, and his teeth were a jagged and broken mess.
His bloodshot eyes looked yellowish while his long gangly hair was oily and wet.
He walked on all fours like an animal and upon closer inspection, the crowd noticed his spine was crooked most likely from a beating he suffered a long time ago.
But worse of all his stick-thin body which was terribly emaciated and small even for a five-year-old stank horribly almost like a rotting skunk carcass.
Roach paid no attention to their judging looks and cautiously walked over to the table where a giant bearded man sat surrounded by intoxicated women.
"Quite your staring a take a seat!" yelled the man.
Roach did as he asked and came over to the table and took the chair opposite to him which allowed him to face the man as he spoke.
The man shooed the women away his eyes locked firmly on the child in front of him.
Taking a swig of ale the man cleared his throat and said in a low voice "Heard you killed an executive member of the Ghetto Ghosts well I have only one thing I want to ask you. How would you like to join the Skull Troupe?"