Warning: sims in peril, violence, swearing
“That’s enough,” Steve instructed as he gestured at Kian. “Do whatever you want with that one, but,” he turned to Curtis. “This brat’s mine. We’re going to have a little chat.”
The large man with the shaved cut forcefully brought Curtis to his feet with a choke-hold and pushed him towards Steve. Kian fared no better. His adversaries had him pinned to the ground and slammed their fists into his face. Both boys were bloodied and bruised while the late teen and young adults were reasonably unscathed.
“At first I thought to myself”– Steve cracked his knuckles –“That you’ve got some nerve fighting me, with your age and cocky attitude. But then you’re just a plumming kid, and we are goood men. So we let it slide.” His emphasis on their ‘goodness’ elicited twisted grins and evil snickers. Liar, Athena thought. Curtis and Kian beat you up bad, you’re just trying to downplay losing to them!
Steve swung at the bloodied teen. Blood leaked from the side of Curtis’s mouth as he recoiled from the blow, his face strained in agony while he gasped for air, struggling to breathe.
“But then I learnt about Hubert. You planted his dead body on my turf, didn’t you? Get the cops crawling all over my streets!? You got some nerve trying to bring the law on us!” Though Steve hollered, the loud hum from the factory generator diffused his voice. He gave a sharp left jab to the teen’s ribs, then right, as he went on.
“I did some digging on you – at first I thought you a remnant Simitario member, maybe you’re a D’Angelo, or some dumb kid with a big shot father, but no. All you have is a lousy connection to some unknown loser group. Roge, hold him upright. He’s passing out.”
His head was yanked backwards as the man grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged hard. Curtis managed two breaths before Roge’s other arm compensated by clenching harder against his jugular. The lack of blood and oxygen clouded his vision and focus. His arms were tingling.
“The rules are simple, boy.” Steve continued, halting inches to Curtis’s face and gesturing to his tattoo. “We’re the apex predator of the plummin’ food chain here. You don’t mess with me; you don’t mess with my gang.
“All I see,” Curtis interrupted through choked breaths and gritted teeth, “is a branded **** trying to throw his weight around – who thinks he’s a hotshot for needing a group of people to take on two kids. You’re weak.”
Athena had to cover her eyes and look away as Steve pummeled him until he collapsed onto the ground. They prodded him with their shoes, but Curtis stayed motionless.
“Almost gone,” the Grim suddenly chimed in, his back still turned from the scene. Her blood froze. Was he sensing Curtis’s life-force?
“Bind him up,” Steve commanded as he climbed over the safety rail. “And make the other kid watch.” Roge loosely tied Curtis’s hands behind his back and dragged him over the rail. Kian was thrown headfirst against the ground in Curtis’s direction.
Steve and Roge forced the half-conscious teen onto his knees just a few centimeters from the edge of the water. Kian tried to advance towards the trio, but the two by his side made a game of knocking him over repeatedly with a kick or two, amused by his futile efforts to stop his friend’s impending fate.
“How do you like your watery grave? Actually, let’s sweeten the deal…” Steve reached the back of his trousers and pulled out a gun. Roge moved a safe distance as Steve pointed the weapon at the youth’s temple.
“See you in tomorrow’s paper.” he said with finality and cocked his weapon. The Grim pushed himself into an upright position and started towards the group when he noticed the young Spellcaster…
“OOOFT!!!?” As if a 150-pound baby rhino had charged into him at full speed.
Roge expected a fall, but not…