The Drunken Man

The boy and mother were long gone. The things returning without them marked that. The thug that stayed behind clenched his fist. He was furious. Another gifted child was gone.

The onlookers had long dispersed and those who looked from their windows were no longer present. He stood emotionless in the cold, smoking on a cigar.

"What do we do Sid?" one of the thugs asked him.

"How the hell am I supposed to know. " Sid replied, "we just lost a debtor and a gifted."

" Wasn't our fault. " another thug said.

" Yeah, " Sid replied, " but they won't see it that way. "

The thug sighed. True. Word would spread that they weren't able to catch a gifted to all parts of the town. It'd tarnish their reputation. Which meant they were in deep trouble.

" Then we just catch the one who let them escape." another thug proposed.

" Yeah Oliver," Sid barked, " like that would be any easier!"

" That's our only option!" Oliver replied, " ' cus none of us wanna face the higher ups. "

" The higher ups already know."

The five turned in the direction of the voice, all of them trembling in fear. The man in front of them wore the same outfit they wore, only with a red strip of cloth tied around his left arm. He was tall and has short brown eyes, his lazy eyes were the color of hazel nut. The smirk he had on his face only made him all the more terrifying.

" They higher ups already know, " he said again, walking towards them.

" S... si... sir I can explain," Sid managed to say.

"Don't bother, Sid," The man said, " it'll only ruin my mood."

Sid gulped as the man's hand rested on his shoulder.

"Now, would you like to tell me exactly how you're gonna fix this mess?"

Elsewhere, a man lay slumped in an alley, too drunk to move. He lazily watched those who passed by, muttering under his breath about how the world seemed unfair. At one point, he threw a broken bottle at one unlucky man, the latter who returned the favor with a stone. The drunk man paid no attention to the blood that dripped from the open wound on his forehead. He only lay still.

"What do we have here?" a voice said. The drunk man looked up at the speaker and spat in disgust.

"Its you...scram." The drunk man blurted out. The stranger bent down and grabbed the drunk man's head.

"Stop the pretense, Wren, I know a drunk man when I see one."

The drunk man looked at him and smiled, "What the hell do you want."

"Me? Oh nothing. I was just passing by. They said this place was rowdy and I wanted to see whether it was true."

"Did it not please you?"

"Surprisingly, it did." the stranger said with a smile.

The drunk man turned over, his back facing the stranger.

"Wren, why are you here?" the stranger asked.

Wren sighed. "I came to see someone."

"An assignment?"

"No...personal." Wren said. The stranger frowned. "Its been two years, Wren, get over it."

"Would you?" Wren asked, turning to the stranger, anger laced in his eyes. "No, can you?"

The stranger sighed and stood up. "I'm leaving town. You might not see me for a while, even if you decide to leave town."

"Well, that's music to my ears." Wren said, "good luck."

"Is that sarcasm,"

"And if it is?" Wren asked with a smile on his face. The stranger grinned and walked away, leaving Wren to continue playing the drunk man.