A cloaked figure sat hunched over it’s feet, features indistinguishable in the gloomy street. Although gloomy, the street were crowded with people from every culture rushing to their respective appointments. All in all the sight is melancholy, and his story seems even more so. Still, he is alive, and alive always means opportunities for more. A few more hours pass and some empathic strangers had taken a look at the figure with sympathy and donated a few coppers, making his haul a whole 9 grimy medals. No sound came from the figure at the kind acts, as if conserving it’s energy for more important matters. The strangers, no knowledgeable of his life thought of him as rude, and huffed as they walked away with straight backs. A glint shined in the figure’s eyes, they expected to be praised as gods for their paltry efforts, as always. Out of the corner of his eye he saw three thugs walking down the street as if it were theirs. Joking and bantering. Deciding that he’d pushed his luck enough the figure slowly got up, placing the hat at his head and began walking slowly and carefully into a dark alley. The thugs, though, had spotted him and elbowed each other while snickering lowly. One took to flight and began running into then nearest alley. The other two vigilantly shadowed the figure.

In the middle of the alley the cloaked man took of his hat and counted his few blessings, before looking up and spotting someone at the end of the alley, someone with a grin. “Hey hey hey, what u got there, beggar? Haven’t seen your face around before, have you paid your taxes yet?” He snickered at his own words. The cloaked man recognized as a beggar ‘tsk’ed’ and turned around, ready to run. Looking at the other end blocked by two more thugs with folded arms coldly staring at him. The beggar staggered a few steps back, crashing into the thug who had suddenly moved behind him in what he perceived as a blink of an eye. His head turned and his wide open eyes easily caught the disdain and disgust in the eyes of his predators. The air forcefully left him as he was pushed hard into the ground, his knees bleeding from the impact with the tough and rough cobblestones. “Don’t touch me, loony, you’re ruddy disgusting” The large man surveyed the kneeling figure before him before placing his foot on top of his back, pushing him into the ground. “Now, spit up those coppers before things gets worse for you” He snickered as if an inside joke was said “Hey hey, I’m looking out for you here, what would you do if you don’t have arms or legs to beg with anymore? Or maybe that would be better, you’d look more of a sorry figure that way” A sadistic smile formed on his lips as the figure below him whimpered. “Ah, ah, what’s that? It’s certainly not pelf” His other food found it’s way to the cloaked figure’s hand, crushing it beneath itself. The beggar gritted his teeth as his eyes burned with fiery rage, feeling the bones in his hand threatening to break. He slowly took out todays haul from within his cloak, panic rising at the thought of becoming a cripple he didn’t intend to waste a moment more objecting. Jingling the coins in his hat seemed to catch the big guys attention as he reached down for it, placing all the more weight on his already burning hand. “Hmm, a few coppers. You’re not only a beggar, you’re a bad one at that!” His hearty laugh rumbled from his chest as his eyes squinted in anger. “Wasting my time like that” He pretended to be angry, poorly. Being a beggar he had a good grasp on human emotions, not having much more to do than watch people day in, and day out. And he knew this brute was just looking for an excuse to beat him to the brink of death. “Johnny, Johnny, leave the poor man alone, he’ll suffer more on the street than whatever you can do to him” The most elegant of the bunch, and that didn’t say much, came up an placed a placating hand on, the now named Johnny’s, shoulder. He used what he thought were a gentle smile to the kneeling figure, with no intention to help whatsoever. “Ahhh, Kisera, why are you ruining my fun again?” Kisera sniggered and voiced his intentions loudly, uncaring of the beggar listening in, for what could he do? “One less beggar means one less source of money for us, Johnny. You’ve got loads to learn still” before he grabbed the coins from the hat and threw it away, strolling down the alley. If the beggar had to guess, he’d imagine they’d use his hard earned money on booze. The big guy threw one last kick in the downed body before rushing after his comrade, the unnamed guy who had not said a word the whole time took his time stalking his friends, not even glancing at the beggar lying motionlessly on the ground, too scared to make a move and attract attention. In a few seconds the alley were empty again, aside from one figure trembling.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“God fucking damn, this god forsaken place, arrrghh!!!” The beggar uttered a muffled scream as tears flowed down his eyes. He pounded the ground with his arm, only to feel blinding pain rushing through it, causing him to let out a muffled cry of agony. His form trembled for a few more moments before it became eerily still. His silver grey eyes still glinting with the remnants of tears, but cold like never before. There was a resolve in them. He slowly got up, his back stil hunched, but not as much as before. “Never again” he muttered to himself. His eyes steeled once more “Never, god darned again” he said as he trudged down the alley, ideas swirling in his head.