I couldn't really make sense of it all but all I knew was that I could see the world in red. Conan dropped to his knees as the man walked away. Trying to clean my face, all I could see was blood on my hands, the table and in my soup. I stared at the man as he walked away with his blade dripping of blood and his comrades laughing with him.
I couldn't really make out what they said but I was sure that I heard the words "good knife work". Touching my self to be sure I wasn't the one I stood up to go check on Conan. There he was kneeling, his eyes still open, his blood still flowing, his shirt being turned to red. I tried to help but I didn't know what to do, all I was able to do was stare as my brother got drained of his blood. My vision getting blurry, tears swelling, I didn't know what to say as tears began filling my eyes.
I tried calling his name as I thought he was playing dead as we normally do at home but this seemed different. I told him they were gone but Conan didn't even budge, his eyes unmoving, his breathe gone, all this, I didn't understand and then it came. The tears pouring out as I could hold it no more, I shouted and screamed for help but no one came, instead a wrinkled old man came over and stared.
"Please help me" I said.
But he just stared and then walked past and took the meat, as he left, the other people started fighting him for it, they fought for the food and no one cared much about me or my brother. I stared at Mo as he looked at me and shook his head. I knew what that meant, there was nothing he could do. I cried for hours before dragging Conan back to our house with ma.
She cried that day as she had lost a child, first our father, who was taken by a disease and then now her son, who was taken by the gangs. I had never seen Ma cry so much before, no matter how bad things got, Ma always had a smile on her face. But now this tragedy seemed to break her mask, she could take it no more, she wept throughout the night as I could hear her from my own side of the curtain that divided the room. I had no more tears as I felt there was nothing more to cry for.
That day marked a change in me, I started taking things more seriously as I was now the man of the family. And to be the man you need to make sacrifices like a whole lot of sacrifices. From then on I tried infiltrating the gangs, Trying not to be to suspicious I didn't ask much questions but decided to run errands for them. They were slow to bring me in as they didn't trust me and I needed to show I was trust worthy. And so, I became a runner for them, a is someone who is responsible for taking and transferring information within the gang and other areas.
Most of this information are a very sensitive and makes on a possible target of rival gangs. I took letters and information for them from one part of the Raccoon ridge to the other all trying to gain their trust. Making sure that the information I took was not intercepted by rival gangs of the other suburbs. This made me a target and so I had to learn to protect myself against other gangs, I had to learn some basic survival skills and self-defense.
Moving from one territory to the other I became one of their most trusted runners. And from there I started moving their products, this product was always in a case and it seemed it came from the city. As a runner you don't ask questions you just run from one post to the other. And this I did for eight years now, getting some reputation within Raccoon ridge, being called Cleaver. I got this nickname after I had an encounter with a rival and had to kill my way through and the only weapon around was a rusted cleaver. With that I massacred my way through them. Ever since then been more respected and also a target.
The name came with some perks as I was now among the people whose name had some kind of weight. Within those eight years I had learnt a lot of things and ways to survive within ranks of the gangs. To talk only when spoken to, this and how the gang's work. But what I never got to learn was the identity of the man who killed Conan and his whereabout. It seemed it had become a closely guarded secret. But today, I finally got a name, Stan the Butcher. He acquired this name through his successful number of hits he completed. He never left a contract open always made sure he closed his contracts.
All these I got from the man at the alley, the eight years may seem long but I feel it's all worth it, as I have been planning and waiting for this moment for a long, long time. Everyone who was there will pay, everyone, none will escape my wrath as they have all chosen the worst person to wrong. Starting with those directly involved and those who knew about the hit and helped supply the information. I have already gotten one of the gang members. Now it's time to go after the rest.
Closing my eyes I couldn't wait for the beautiful morning to approach. I couldn't wait to walk through Raccoon ridge collecting the debts owed. The night was quiet most of the time unless when someone was getting a beating or maybe being robbed. Which is normal here, pretty normal.
Morning came as quickly as the night had fallen, getting up I walked up into the bathroom, freshening up I got out of the bathroom. I didn't do much, just sprinkled water on my face and cleaned my mouth as water was scarce.
Walking out I stood in front of a small sized mirror which was Conan's, one of the few things to remember him by. Looking in to the mirror, my skinny face and pale eyes. My head filled with blonde hair that was almost white. Keeping the mirror, I went to look at my evidence board which was now filled with names and people who might be connected to this whole thing. I can't keep hiding it anymore I need to make my move.