Black is my Favorite Color

The frozen fountain was drenched in blood as more and more bodies piled up in and around it. The sounds of gunfire, screams and howls could be heard all over the barrier between the two towns. Wolves and Orcas clashed, their faces filled with rage, sorrow and fear, as the fought with all they had. The pillars led the way, as did the Wolf pack their semi alpha members.

A stone wall sprouted from the ground, dividing some of the Orca members. Dominic immediately jumped into the circle of Orcas and with his wrench, began to sweep through them like a cutlass to grass, crushing bones and spilling blood. His onslaught was short lived, as another muscular man came into the fray, armed with nothing but his fist. He slammed into Dominic, pinning him to the ground and breaking his arm. Dominic screamed and lashed out, kicking Marcel off him and getting up to his feet.

Annabelle on the other hand was dwindling the numbers of the Orca, with her stone spike that sprouted from the ground and impaled the incoming enemies. The wolf gang howled in unison, shouting in victory.

"Where the hell is Torn?!" Parya exclaimed to the surrounding Orca members

"We haven't seen him!"

"Dammit, someone's gotta take the stone girl out! Ron!"

"I can't get a clear shot! She knows we're sniping at her!"

Dammit. Parya stomped her foot. They had been literally abandoned. Torn was missing, Ms. Watson had left and Nathan was dead. The High didn't even bother to come out of his office. Did he even care for their lives?

Tigre was at the front, bashing two of the wolves skulls together. She threw both bodies at some incoming Wolves and rushed at another group.

The Wolves began to fall back, as their gun unit stepped forward, arms raised ready to fire.

"Marcel! Retreat!" Parya commanded. But he was to far away to hear. The wave of bullets hit him and some other retreating Orca members.

Then, as if their prayers had been answered, lightening fell from the sky, killing all gun units of the Wolves. High above them was Jenny, who levitated downward. Annabelle grit her teeth in anger.

"Any sign of Karver or White?" She asked. The Wolf shook her head. Annabelle grunted. Dominic had already come over to their side but their forces had dwindled. Same could be said for the Orca, but they had their big guns; Tigre and that lightening kid. Not even mentioning their sniper who had almost blown a hole through her skull.

This fight was going to be a long one.

Torn had taken a longer route, getting into the Zero Ground. He had hence avoided the entire conflict. Heck he didn't even want to see it. It was too disgusting for him to acknowledge. The most important thing to him right now was getting to Alicia and hoping no, praying for her safety. He paused as he saw someone, an old man in the dark. He recognized that blade and that kimono anywhere.

"What is your business here?" Jarim asked, his right hand on the sword, "You have to leave. Your battle lies elsewhere."

"Its not my battle." Torn replied. "I don't fight battles that are unnecessary. I came here to meet Alicia."

"And why is that?" Jarim asked. "She's been living her life, starting anew, and you want to ruin that for her?"

"I have no intention of doing so." He said, "I only need to make sure that the Wolves haven't got to her."

"I am here,"

"You're left handed, Jarim."

Jarim looked intently at Torn and sighed. He turned away, in the directions of the fires that came from the war.

"I guess you can say that I learnt to be ambidextrous."

"Just admit it, you grew old." Torn said as he passed by Jarim, "We all did."

Jarim looked at him as he walked away. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you mean." He said under his breath as he walked away to find Meimei and the other children.

Torn reached the stairs of the Closed Den and hesitated. He knocked twice, waiting for a response, but none came. Looking around, he noticed that there wasn't a soul in the Zero Ground. All afraid for their lives, cowering in their houses, although this was the safest place to live in.

He tried the door and it opened. Someone was here. He walked slowly through the small hallway entering the bar only to see all the unturned tables and chairs and the broken bottles of beer and rum, their sweet delicacies spilled all over the floor. At the corner of the room was a man with white hair. He had a white blindfold covering his eyes and wore a white fur coat over his black uniform. He looked just like Kah Mal, even the way he drank the glass of wine.

"Hello." He said, "I wasn't expecting visitors."

"If you're here, then I take it that you've killed Alicia." Torn said, in a low voice.

The man didn't answer the question, only spinning the glass in his hands for some time. He place it down and refilled it.

"She's in the back room."

Torn stared at him for a while before going to the back rooms. He couldn't see clearly but he saw her. Alicia Watson. She had been stabbed through the back with a blade, probably a cutlass, and there were signs of a struggle. But her face was calm even in death. Like she had accepted it. Torn bent down and touched her cold hand, bowing his head. He let go of the hand, returning to the mysterious man.

"Why her?" Torn asked, "You couldn't have known this. Not your gang."

"True." White said, "But my boss does."

Torn looked at him in confusion. Then it dawned on him.

"Solomon."

"Ah. Same boss, huh? The man predicts things, you could say he was a master of it. Just planting seeds everywhere. If you're here, then it was his doing."

"Why?"

"To keep you away, duh. You're Torn Wyrn. The man who has slaughtered the most powerful gifted of the Below. Keeping you out of the conflict keeps it in a manner that would favor him."

"But why are you here? If you completed your task."

"Last drink, I suppose."

"Not buying that."

White smiled. He drank what was left of his drink before placing the glass down. He stood up removing the blindfold and placing it on the table, revealing his jade eyes.

"I'm sick and tired of playing this game, Torn Wyrn. Far too many innocents have died because of me. Because of us."

"Having regrets, huh?"

"You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for regrets."

"Guess you're right."

"So, what do you say, one last brawl?"

"You could die."

"I could."

"Your brother would be hurt."

"He would. And he'll be hurt even more once he thinks more about it. Knowing that I could have left. But let's just say I am not as strong as him."

Torn drew two knives from his pocket. White drew out one as his coat fell to the ground.

"You know," Nigel said, "Black was always my favorite color."