Confict

This city is a jungle. You've got your big, tough predators, the companies, the giant beasts that you can't take down, but who think nothing of eliminating a few small fries for lunch. Theres the bottom feeders, those who fight amongst themselves for the limited scraps they can live off, if you call that living. Then there's me, and those like me. Entrepreneurs, I'd say; the ones who can find sustenance through more creative ways. The city is full of little pockets of unprotected cash, ripe for the picking.

I've lean back into the shadows, next to a dumpster. Like this, I look like a bum to anyone who gives me a passing glance, and no one gives me more than that. Every once in a while a stranger will drop a coin at my feet, and I'm not too proud to take it, but that's not why I'm here. Here I have a view of every passer-by unnoticed. The great thing about this city is that there's never a down time. Even now, in the dead of night, the streets have dozens of people walking through to home, from home, between their various escapades, legitimate or otherwise. I honestly don't care. I'm not a judge, or a jury; I'm just hungry.

Here comes someone. A woman, looks middle age. She's wearing bright colors, too bright for someone on business, but she's not hooking. Probably came back late from a date, and judging from her age, and her suspicious glances, she doesn't want her husband to know. She glances at her watch. She's in a hurry. 'Go on,' I think at her, 'Take the alley. It's a short cut.' Whether she heard me or not, she decides to try the alley. Perfect.

I listen to her heels click down the concrete. I don't even need to look to know she's out of view from the main street. I get up and start walking down that way after her, keeping my posture slouched and slowly shuffling from one leg to another. I slow count to twenty, at which point I know I'm invisible from the street too. I straighten my posture and break into a silent run. I can still hear her shoes clicking. They slow, almost stop. She's reached the dark period, where the lights have failed. She can't see the alley to the other end. But she knows its there; she keeps going, click click, click click. 'Good girl.' Only a few meters now. I slowly draw my sword.

Some of my peers have decided to embrace the times. Every couple of days I'll hear the sharp bang of a gunshot piercing the night. It's almost immediately followed by the wails of the police alarm, and the clatter of action as every available officer in earshot dashes to the scene. Amateur. Several more gunshots follow, and more often than not, I have less competition.

“Don't scream. Don't move. Don't make a sound.” I press my blade against her throat. It's near pitch black, but even if she can't see it, she'll feel the sharp edge against her pretty little neck. She let out a little gasp, but nothing more. “Good, I'd have hated to have to slice you. Just give me your purse.” As an after thought, I add “And the jewelery.” I didn't pick out anything in particular, but since she was probably leaving her man-on-the-side, she was probably carrying some extra 'I love you' presents with her. I grin inwardly as I see her reach for the purse. I whisper in her ear soothingly. “That's it, just drop it on the ground, then go home like a good girl. If you look at me, I'll be the last thing you ever see.”

I hear the thud of something dropping to the ground, but it's not her purse. No, this is too heavy. And it's from behind me... For a split second I consider slicing the lady's throat and just running. No, not worth it. I'm not stupid enough to murder someone with a witness. I release the lady and she sprints for the far side of the alley.. I can't deal with both of these people at once, and the person behind me obviously wants my attention. I turn and face the man as I address him: “You've just cost me a lot of money, stranger. Are you gonna repay me?”

“I'd suggest you go home, friend, and make an honest living.” I hate this kind of do-gooder crap. I see it at least once a month. Some sheep thinks he can be a hero. Thinks he can step in and tell me what to do because “he's right”.

Pfeh. “I'd suggest you go home, friend, and mind your own goddamn business.” I draw my blade and point it towards him. That usually scares them off. It's sad really. When they run, I never make any money for the night. Sometimes I'll get lucky and the fool doesn't know when it's time to leave. Dueling laws apply then. I'm within my rights to kill him and loot the corpse. Or vice versa. 'Yeah, right.'

I'm in luck, I guess. He's not running. I take a few steps towards him, just so he knows I'm serious. He draws his own blade. I am in luck indeed. I look at him, and he looks back into my eyes. This is happening here, in this dimly lit alley. No more need for words.

I lunge into him. I feel a surge of adrenaline as his blade rises to block my own. Ah, good, he knows how to use his sword. I'm in the mood for a challenge tonight. Suddenly, I think, this isn't about right or wrong. It's just a match of blades. If anyone was right, anyway, it was me. I was doing what I had to in order to survive. And I picked a target who deserved it too. Then this 'hero' jumps in and decides he's gonna tell me what's right and what's not. Pfeh. I spit at him and take another lash at him.

He sidesteps, dodging both my spit and my steel. This guy isn't bad, I realize slowly. I can still take him, but it'll take a little extra work. I concentrate all my energy at him. With every fiber in my being, suddenly, I hate him. I want him to die. I want him to no longer be here. I no longer care about whether what I was doing was right, or wrong, or whatever. All I know in that moment is that he needs to be dead by my sword. I press my attack, drawing him backwards. He manages to block me, bit for bit, but as I look into his eyes, I just see a cool calm. He doesn't have the drive behind him to win this. Our swords clash, over and over again. It's only a matter of time before I've over powered him, before he's gone forever.

* * *

I like the city at night. The cool air and black night are matched by the energy from the citizens and the multicolored buildings. Each monolith stands blazing away, advertising its presence and its contents to anyone who's there to see. I've seen them all so often that I no longer take them in as individual buildings, or individual words. I simply see a broad mountain range, lighting up the night. My home. Lighting the way back for me.

I used to go out and take in the sights. When I first moved here, after my shift was done and I had nothing to do, I'd go out and stroll down the streets and alleys. People always try to tell you that the city's a lost cause. It's nothing but crime, corruption, and sleaze. Those are the people who don't stay long. They're people who get scared off by the sound of a car backfiring or more than two motorcycles passing them on the road. Sure, the crime is there, and the corruption, and the sleaze. You get enough people in one place, it's bound to come along.

I saw a different side, though, on my walks. I saw the people, ordinary, everyday people, just trying to make their way through life. I'm not about to discount a city of two million for a few bad eggs.

I meet nice people on my walks. I'll pass by shop owners as they're closing up for the day. Often I'll get a scrap or two that was left over at closing time. They were just gonna throw it away, but I offer to take it off their hands. I'd drop a few bits and scraps into the near-empty hats sitting in front of beggars. Something to feed them, not get them drunk. After a few weeks of this, one of the shop owners got curious what I was doing with all her extra meat. I lead her down one of my walks, and we began to talk while I spread my scraps about town.

Eventually, as the clocks rolled over from 12 to 1, we decided it was time to call it a night. She glanced ahead. “This is where we split, I think.” She pointed down an alleyway. She'd been in town long enough to know that you never let a kind stranger walk you all the way home. As she walked down the alley, I glanced wistfully until she began to fade into the dark, then headed home myself.

I was maybe a half block away when I noticed I still had her coat over my arm. It'd been a rainy morning, but a warm evening, so she didn't need it, and I offered to hold it for her. I cursed at myself for being so stupid, then turned and tried to catch her. I ran down the alley to find her being held by a gruff-looking man. They both saw me at the same time, and I could see a look of fear in her eyes, and surprise in his. She opened her lips to scream for help, but as soon as she could, her throat was slit by the man's sword.

“Bastard!” I yelled. It's a mistake, and I should have known it. If he's willing to kill her, he'd also be willing to kill me. Yelling only drew attention to the man, agitated him. Not a good move on my part. His attention is fully on me.

“You want a piece of this too?” he asked. “Like your girlfriend?” He shrugged at the shop-keep's body. I hadn't even known her name. I didn't have any idea what to do. I froze. “Guess so,” he half-laughed, and began to walk towards me. He was in for a duel. Though the somewhat archaic practice was usually held on specified grounds of honor, the laws were set up so that a duel could take place any time, and in any place, a loop hole that was frequently abused by those with weapons in public.

I looked at him fearfully. I didn't have a weapon. I'd never thought such a thing could happen to me, getting caught in a duel. I knew that all I had to do was run, and the duel was negated, but I couldn't. I didn't want to leave the girl's body to this monster, unremembered, and abandoned in a cowardly act. I wanted to stand and fight, and honor her memory.

As he moved towards me, readying a killing blow, I panicked. Reflexes took over, and I reached out for anything that could be used as a weapon. I reached behind me and caught the lid of a garbage can in my right hand. I swung it around and pushed his sword away. It surprised him enough that I was able to push my momentary advantage. I pushed the lid square into his face. He fell to the ground cold. I didn't know what to do after. I cried for help, then ran straight to the police station. Still acting the coward. When we got to the site, the criminal was long gone, and the girl's corpse had been looted thoroughly.

I could have taken that guy. I could have killed him, brought the girl some real justice, not been a coward. I should have been able to stand up for what I knew was right. Ever since then, I've looked for ways to do that. I looked up the dueling laws, and now know them through and through. I got a good sword. You can't duel with a pistol, and your bare fists'll get you killed quick against a real opponant. I'd gotten lucky the first time. I had to be ready after that.

So here I am. I still go on the same walks I used to. I see the same people. But I'm not looking for them. I'm not looking for the nice girls who'll talk to me all night long. I'm looking for the creeps out there who want to kill the nice girls. And I think I just found one.

As I walk down the sidewalk, I spy a beggar rising from his seat in the shadows. He walks down the dark alley way, following a woman who was a few meters ahead of me. I recognize the signs right away, and as soon as he has his back turned, I make my move. I leap up, bounding off one wall of the narrow alley, then the other, back and forth until I've landed on a roof top. I check down again. No sign of the beggar or the woman. I move along the roof until I see them. He's snuck up behind her, his blade to her throat. When he starts to whisper in her ear, I ready myself.

A quick jump off the one story ledge and I'm standing behind him. The sound of my landing wasn't graceful. It could have been, but I wanted him to know I was here. Good, I see him let the woman go. He's a smart one. As he turns to face me, he almost snarls at me. “You've just cost me a lot of money, stranger. Are you gonna repay me?”

'As though you'd done anything to earn that money,' I think to myself. Not wanting to chide the man, I simply offer a way out for him. “I'd suggest you go home, friend, and make an honest living.” Heh. It sounds like something out of an action serial. What made me think he was gonna listen to that? I need to work on my heroic lines.

“I'd suggest you go home, friend.” He spits the last word back at me, letting me know that I am nothing of the sort to him. “...And mind your own goddamn business.” He's right, on one level. It's not really my business, is it? I didn't know the woman, and I don't know him, not that I really needed to to do what I'm about to do. But then again, I know what he was doing was wrong. That alone made it my business. Wrongs were being done. I had the power to set things right. It was my responsibility to that woman, and to all the good people in the city, to set things right.

He raises his blade towards me, signaling a duel challenge. He was willing to kill a woman over her purse in cold blood, but now he's going to do them by the book. Fine by me. I stand my ground, and slowly draw my own sword. He thinks he can make it all better by playing by the rules. He can't. He's wrong. His entire evening has been nothing but wrong. I'm going to set him right, one way or another.

He takes a few steps forward, and I draw my sword to meet him. He lunges towards me, hoping to scare me and slice me in one big swing. I'm not so green. I lift my blade up and block. His eyes light up. This guy wants a fight, it seems. He's in luck; I'm ready to give him one.

He's signaling his moves. He spits at me and takes another slash. It's a simple matter to dodge both of them. I don't want to attack him, yet. He's still fighting tight enough that I don't have any space to hit him. I back up, out of the dim alleyway, and let the lights shine on him. Now I can read every move he's giving me.

His eyes narrow, either from the glare of the lights or just to show his hatred towards me. Maybe it's both. I can look in his eyes and see a deep rage built up. He's started to fight from his emotions. That's never a good sign. His emotions are going to eventually overcome him and be his destruction. All I have to do is survive that long. If I weren't currently dueling him, I'd probably try to tell him to calm down, take a breath, think things through. Of course, I am, so I'm willing to let his emotions power him straight on into a loss.

He lets out an angry scream as he starts slashing at me wildly. Wow, this guy really wants me dead. I block each of his sword swipes, deflecting them. Each time, he recoils and resumes his attack, but each time he does so a little more sloppy than the last time. Each time he moves his feet a little bit more out of formation. It's only a matter of time before...

There! I block one last slash, then slide right for his heart. One twist of my sword and the man is done. One less villain in the world. One less wrong for me to right. He looks up at me with his last dying breath and asks me “Why? Why couldn't you just... leave me... alone?” His body shudders one last time, and he's dead before I give him my answer.

“Because it wouldn't be right.”