Emil

Rain thundered in his ears.

How long have I been fighting?

The crowd screamed and jeered in the background. Their voices subdued against the incessant rain. Emil narrowed his eyes. His vision blurred. His head spun, concussed from Raz’s relentless blows.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re already done?” Raz’s taunt blared in his ears. Emil felt his throat heat up as he threw a right jab.

The heavy rain, however, sapped his stamina. Fatigue from his earlier fight against the Red Fangs dulled his movements. His reach was short. His punch struck the air. Raz jumped back—a spring in his step.

Shit!

Emil caught a flash of the oncoming kick in his periphery. Pain exploded from his jaws. The next thing he knew he was staring up at the sky. Frigid waters drenched his back. Cold rain pattered against his face, chilling the scalding sting blistering across his cheeks.

Raz loomed above. He crouched down, resting his knees against Emil’s chest. In his hands was a knife, its silver edge pressed dangerously beneath Emil’s neck. With just a gentle push, the blade would sink into his throat.

The cheers of the crowd suddenly boomed in his ears. Emil felt a flush of heat rise to his cheeks as his will to fight waned.

“…I lost.”

“Obviously,” Raz snorted as he withdrew his knife and wiped his face. Blood soaked the side of his eyes and the corners of his lips. Although he won, he didn’t escape the fight unscathed.

“Not bad, Emil. You got better since our last rodeo.” Raz sneered, eyeing his bloodied sleeves. “But did you seriously think you could win?”

Ptoop! Emil spat out a mouthful of blood. The red spittle was instantly carried away by the pouring rain. His mouth filled with a bitter aftertaste.

“No, I’m not stupid.”

Raz raised an eye. “But you fought me anyways.”

“Yeah.”

“Which was pretty fucking stupid,” he scoffed before turning to one of the older boys in the crowd, “Bruno, bring some bandages to my place later. I’m staying put for the night.”

Without another word, he departed from the scene. The crowd parted to make way for his exit as Raz disappeared into one of the dilapidated huts by the edge of the compound.

***

Agony teared through his jaws. The pain pulsated madly—a mixture between a sharp sting and dull buzz. Emil winced, glaring at himself in the mirror. The aftermath of his fight with Raz was becoming clearer. Black rings crowded around his eyes. His nose was still dripping blood. The bruises smeared across his face was beginning to purple.

The bastard gave me a damn make-over.

“Keep your hands steady,” he said, his voice mired in resentment. His reflection continued to flicker under the dim candlelight. Mia was in his room, holding up the mirror for him to examine his injuries.

“I’m trying! My arms are sore! Did you forget that I’m injured as well?!”

“Wanna try having your face injured too?”

“Hey! Don’t be mean! You’re the one who chose to fight Raz!”

“Oh, really now? Do I look like I’m stupid, Mia?” Emil snapped, “You think I picked a fight because I enjoy getting humiliated in front of everyone?”

“…Then why fight him if you knew you were going to lose?” she asked, poking her head out behind the mirror sheepishly.

Dammit, I’m getting too heated. He let out a deep breath. “I was trying to prove a point. To make Raz realize that he was doing something incredibly stupid. So stupid that I would choose to pick a losing fight in order to stop him.”

The side of his face was becoming hot to touch.

Yeah, it’s definitely going to swell. His injuries from the Red Fangs were already bad enough. Fighting Raz only exacerbated things. Emil could already imagine all the taunts and giggles about his new appearance tomorrow. I should just lock myself inside.

“But what if he didn’t change his mind after the fight?” Mia asked.

“Then I would’ve tried to break an arm or leg. Enough so that he won’t be able to fight the Red Fangs,” he said, rising to his feet. Night had already descended. It was getting late.

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“Alright, it’s time for bed.”

After escorting Mia back to her dwelling, Emil returned to his place. He shoved the items spilled by Raz to the side and plopped down onto the makeshift bedroll in the corner of the room. He closed his eyes. Rain continued to patter against the rooftop.

Raz might have a point.

Today wasn’t the first time they had an encounter with the Red Fangs. Their members were spotted multiple times encroaching on their territory within the past few weeks. And it wasn’t just the Red Fangs either—other gangs in the slums were also starting to roam near their turf.

Emil didn’t think they had a weak reputation in the slums, however. Raz’s infamy as a savage fighter usually kept the other gangs at bay. There were simply very few teenagers in the slums that were his size.

Something odd must be happening in the Lower Dannan slums.

The thought lingered in his head until the rain gradually lulled him to sleep.

***

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Emil woke up to his door being slammed.

“Emil! Are you awake?” The frantic knocking was accompanied by a shrill voice.

Sure am now. He groaned as he wiped away the grime festering in his eyes. Dim light from daybreak peeked through the ragged cloth covering his windows. As the stupor began to wear off, he winced—the entirety of his face throbbed from yesterday’s confrontations. Emil brushed the side of his cheeks, tracing the swelling that had hardened overnight.

Yeah. Let’s not look in a mirror.

Reluctantly, he crawled out of his bedroll and went to the door.

“What?” He didn’t bother to hide his annoyance. It was Mia.

“There’s—” Mia’s eyes grew wide upon seeing his face, “…are you okay?”

“No, but when has that ever mattered?” He sneered. “So, what’s going on?”

Her face darkened. “You need to come to the gate. Raz took some of the older boys outside of the compound before dawn. They just returned.”

Emil’s heart sank. Dread crawled up his spine. You’ve got to be kidding me. He was almost certain of the answer, but he had to ask just in case, “Where did they go?”

“The Red Fang’s quarters.”

***

A group had already gathered by the time he arrived at the gates. Emil immediately spotted Raz amongst the crowd. It was impossible to miss him—the six-foot teenager was a goliath compared to most of the kids residing in the compound. He was frantically scrambling about, trying to keep the curious crowd at an arm’s length.

“Raz!” Emil called. Raz immediately spun towards his voice. The first thing Emil noticed was the makeshift bandage clumsily wrapped around his forehead. Blots of dark red had already soaked through the cloth. The side of his face was stained in cuts—the blood still fresh, barely dried. What unsettled Emil the most, however, was the panicked glint in his eyes.

I have a bad feeling about this.

“Emil, I need your help! Bruno’s badly hurt!”

Raz was about to lose it. The crowd quickly parted for Emil and Mia to enter. At the center of the commotion was Bruno—the boy was laid on his back, his face pale, eyes trembling with difficulty. A puddle of blood was pooling beneath him.

Emil took a deep breath to prepare himself. Then he lifted Bruno’s shirt.

“Oh fuck.”

The smell was rancid. A gruesome incision had been carved into Bruno’s stomach. Blood pulsated out slowly with every beat of his heart. The wound was already festering—yellowish pus mixed with the blood, foaming at the edges of the cut.

This was bad. This was really bad.

“What the fuck happened to him?!” Emil screamed.

“H-He took a machete to the stomach,” Raz whimpered.

“From who?! The Red Fangs?!”

Raz nodded reluctantly.

Emil saw red. “I thought I made it clear that it was a stupid move! I got beat up and humiliated in front of everyone, for what?! For Bruno to get sliced in the fucking stomach?!”

Raz averted his gaze, unable to refute. His teeth were clenched, rattling with guilt.

“Mia! Get me everything on the top shelf inside my room.” Emil then pointed at a pair of boys in the crowd. “You two, find me a sewing kit. There should be a few in the supply depot. The rest of you need to get a fire going! I need a bucket of boiling water!’

The crowd spurred into action. Emil stared at the nasty wound, debating what would be the best course of action. The machete was probably poisoned or infected. Otherwise, Bruno’s wound would not be festering yet. I have antidotes for the common poisons, but if it’s something that I can’t—

He shook his head, snapping himself out of the useless thought.

I need to clean the wound. Halt the bleeding. He’s already lost a lot of blood. Some of the herbal paste I have in stock might help coagulate the blood and ease the infection. But how do I even apply it? His wound is insanely deep.

He slammed his head repeatedly with his palm, rattling his brain for any medical knowledge from the books on his late parent’s shelves.

Bruno suddenly started groaning.

“What’s wrong with him?” Raz asked, alarmed. Emil placed his hands over Bruno’s forehead. The skin was blistering hot.

“Fever.” He clicked his tongue. I don’t have time to wait for water.

He grabbed the set of clean bandages that he brought over for emergencies. Lightly, he dabbed at the incision, trying to clean the surface. With just a slight tap, however, the wound oozed. Blood overflowed, mixed with foul pus. The bandages were gone in an instant.

Before he could ask for more, Bruno began to spasm.

“Why is he doing that?!” Raz yelled.

“I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“I’ve never seen this before!” Emil screamed. Drool leaked from Bruno’s mouth as his head began to convulse.

“H-Hold him down for now!” Raz and a group of boys rushed in on Emil’s instructions, desperate to keep Bruno still.

“Now what?!”

Emil’s head blanked. Nothing was coming to mind. His knowledge was lacking. He had no formal training, no experience dealing with sort of anomaly. Unable to formulate a thought, he froze, mouth agape, staring dumbly at the absurd situation before him.

“Emil! Say something dammit!”

He shook his head. “I…I—”

A pair of hands gripped his shoulders. “You’re supposed to save him!” Raz screamed into his ears, his tone full of accusation.

“I’m not a fucking doctor!” Emil shoved him away. The strings inside him broke. The injustice of being screamed at for something beyond his control finally caused him to snap.

“You idiots never listen to anything I say! And then when things go wrong, you come crawling to me, begging me to fix it. I’m not a God, Raz! What am I supposed to do when you bring people back who are half-dead?!”

“I—” Raz tried to retort. He flinched instead as Emil stomped towards him.

“You caused this,” Emil got up into his face, “This is on you. Your ego couldn’t stand being wrong, and so you had to go out there and try to be a hero. And now Bruno’s blood is on your hands!”

Silence suffocated the air. Emil’s words lingered over the vicinity. Bruno continued to groan in the background.

Fucking hell, what am I supposed to do about this?

As he grappled with the next step in his treatment—

The bell from the gate suddenly rang. Dale rushed down from his post manning the sentry towers. His face was in full panic.

“T-The Red Fangs are here!”