Mortis

"They're lyin', Boss," Mortis whispered. He was bending at the waist to the Boss' right side.

The clans meeting starting off with a lie. What else was new. The Boss was sitting at a round table. Three seats with three clans' head. Each of the head were accompanied by two attendants. Mortis being one of the Boss'. The other, a full grown swordsman if he didn't miss his mark. One who's seen battle, or at least had been mutilated in the face. No one was gonna call that guy pretty.

The Boss was an unassuming man on the other hand. He wasn't the tallest man. Nor the leanest or heaviest. Average, if Mortis had to describe him. Average looks. Average height. A crew cut. Black coveralls. Nothing remarkable, would be the best description for the Boss. But he knew better. One does not cross the Boss. He's heard stories. Stories that made him shook with revulsion. No one even knew his real name. Some had asked, and some had disappeared. They simply called him Boss.

Boss gave an imperceptible nod. "You would have me believe." Boss paused. Looking at the other clan heads. "That your lackeys were in my turf...because they were...lost?" he finished lamently.

"It is, but the truth," the head on right answered.

"Aye, it is" the one on the left replied as well.

"Now why don't I believe that," Boss shook his head doubtfully. "We had an agreement. You stay on your turfs. I stay on mine. That way no one has to die."

Mortis didn't like where this was going. Boss was usually an amenable man, but when he wasn't Mortis knew to stay as far away as possible.

"What more do you want!" the man sitting on the right recoiled. "We said they were lost and that's that!" His attendants stiffening.

Boss tilted his head toward the man on the right. His eyes steeling, "Joe." A warning.

Just a word. That's all it took. When Boss was angry you'd know.

"I'm not afraid of you!"

You should be, Mortis thought.

"You may have the whole Slums at your beck and call, but not me!" Joe screeched.

Mortis knew about Joe. Or Big Joe, as he liked to call himself. He was definintely big. But not huge. Anyone that called him otherwise paid dearly. Maybe he was overcompensating for something. Who knows. Joe is a new dealer. A rising star in the Slums, as he would have everyone know. Mortis had checked him out over the past week and he wasn't impressed. A hooligan shouting his name, using brute force when he doesn't get his way, and a lecherous trash of human space. The Slums could use less of those types.

"And what say you, Ryder," Boss looked to the man on the left. Dismissing Joe's outcry as a petulant childs'.

Ryder sat in a composed manner. He didn't answer right away. He looked towards Big Joe, and then back to Boss. Seeming to come to a resolution within himself.

"I apologize," Ryder bowed his head slightly. "I had an operation in your area and didn't deign it important enough to inform you."

"An operation consisting of creeping around my turf?" Boss asked sternly.

"No Boss. Their task was to familiarize themselves with the Slums solely for the purpose of future jobs." Ryder claimed evenly. "Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Is that so," Boss peered at Ryder.

"It is indeed," Ryder responded.

"Very well then," Boss motioned for his attendant. The swordsman that stood with Mortis. Boss gestured his head towards Joe. "Break his arm. I don't care which."

Big Joe's attendants reached inside their cloaks. Mortis could "see" they each had a knife on their lower back and forearm. Perhaps they hoped to defend Joe. Little do they know, that would do them no good. If the stories Mortis had heard about Boss' attendant swordsman were true, then all the people in this room wouldn't be enough to stop him. Except perhaps Boss himself.

Boss waved his hand towards Ryder. "You may leave."

Ryder stood up from his seat steadily and his two attendants were ushered out.

"But Boss-," Mortis whispered urgently again.

Boss raised his hand. Cutting off Mortis.

"Gladius," Boss intoned.

Without another prompt Gladius took off into action. A dagger flew from his left hand directly onto Joe's left attendant. He screamed and dropped his own daggers. A step over the table and Gladius was on the right attendant. A round kick to the head and the attendant was knocked into the wall.

Mortis only blinked once.

Gladius stood before Big Joe. Staring at him like a person would an insignificant insect.

"You can't do this!" Joe yelled, backing up. "We all come under a truce for these meetings. You're breaking your own rules!" Gladius approached him slowly. Joe looked away from this madman briefly to plead his case to Boss.

A mistake.

Joe screamed. A bellow more like.

Joe crumpled onto the ground next to his attendants. Clutching his left arm to his chest.

"Next time you disrespect me," Boss walked over casually. "You leave with no legs."

Mortis hurried to Boss' side. He knocked on the door to let the men outside know business was finished. The door opened and he walked out behind Boss and Gladius.

"Take your men to the healers. If you hurry, they may yet live," Boss spoked without looking back.

Joe's men outside stirred at the grisly sight.

"See to your master," Boss spoke to them all. "I sincerely hope none of you are as bright as the one you serve. Otherwise, none of you will be walking away this night." The men outside knew better. They've been around the Slums a lot longer than Big Joe to know Boss was someone you do not cross.

With the men outside converging, they left the little building. Mortis walked beside Boss and attempted to speak again,"Boss, they were both lyin'. Why did you let them go?"

Boss continued his casual pace. Mortis thought he wasn't going to get an answer until suddenly Boss stopped.

"If it was anyone but you questioning me, they would no longer have a voice to speak with," Boss spoke in front of their entourage. He turned to face Mortis, "I know they were lying. It doesn't take someone with your "gift" to see something so obvious."

"Then why-" Mortis asked before he could process what Boss said first.

Boss looked upon him disappointingly. "That's because I still have a use for them." He turned around without another thought and continued their pace back to the hideout.

They were nearly upon their hideout when all the men left accordingly to attend to whatever business they had before the meeting. Some to bars. Others to meetup with their team and total their extortions. Mortis attempted to veer off as well until Gladius appeared before him gesturing towards Boss. Sucking in a quick breath he followed Boss into the least dilapidated building around.

"Sit." Boss sat at his usual desk.

Without any option, Mortis sat with as much confidence as he could muster.

"You are valuable Mortis," Boss spoke like he wasn't anything but an object.

He knew better then to interrupt. Even if Boss didn't say anything immediately he knew to keep quiet and let the storm pass.

"Invaluable, in fact," Boss began again. "But only as I have use for your gift that you may speak to me the way you do. You were nothing when I first found you. With me you had a mission. A purpose. A use. Without me, you would be...nothing."

Mortis knew. He always knew that's how Boss saw him. A tool to be used. Sometimes, he felt different though. Like Boss was looking out for him. Favored him, even. But it didn't matter. Not really. He lived for Lily.

That was his purpose. His mission.

Boss continued to stare at him. As if judging his worth and found it wanting.

"Do not undermine my words again." Boss intoned deeply. "Now," he breathed in heavily. "Get out of my sight."

Mortis stood slowly. Thinking about pleading his case, but thinking better of it. There wasn't anything to do at this point. Not when Boss was this upset.

"Yes Boss."

He walked pass Gladius who stood passively by the door. Hurrying before Gladius could make any comments, he stared down at his feet and increased his stride further.

Some of the boys called out to him. Jay among them. His only real friend here. They used to be part of the same group before Boss claimed he was too much of a commodity to risk for the weekly marks.

"Hey, you a'right Mort," Jay said walking by his side. "You look like you jus' seen ma uncle Smith."

"Isn't your uncle Smith dead?" Mortis questioned.

"Exactly."

Mortis stopped his pace but only briefly. "W-what?" Mortis shook his head. "I'm fine. I'm gonna run an errand on the east side. I'll see ya' around."

With that settled, Mortis took off at a run. He always told everyone that was he going to the east side, even if they didn't ask. He wouldn't take any risks. He hopped over trash and excrements. Sliding by thin walls and going under rails. He would take a quick route to the east then detour around to the west. Avoiding the seedy businesses and guards outside. Mortis knew the Slums better than anyone. He could "see" more than anyone could imagine. His gift, now, gave him a distinct perception that he couldn't properly describe. At first, all he could do with the viscous essence was attach it to things and move them around a little. Once he realized no one can do or see what he did, he excitedly started fooling around with it.

It wasn't long before he was able to focus and use it in his own body. Making his arms and legs a little faster or a buoyancy unheard of. Mortis found that focusing his life essence on his eyes gave him a hazy vision. It took a lot of refining before he was able to see clearly but when he did, everything changed.

Maybe I should grab a souvenir from the festival before I go back, Mortis thought.

He recalled telling Lily about all the crazy things he's seen at the festival grounds. Silly toys, hot foods, and amazing bouts by swordsmen. With the impromptu meeting earlier he wasn't able to attend the festival. Maybe he can make a quick dash and grab before they close the grounds. He started out of the Slums and into the city keep.

Mortis arrived with most of the ground shops closing up. A few stragglers here and there that couldn't decide whether they needed a room or not. If any clothes started coming off he may need to close his virtuous eyes. Deciding to just grab some leftover hot foods he went in search of the food shops.

"Wait don't close yet," Mortis called out. "Gimme two."

The shopkeeper eyed him warily. Mortis wasn't dressed in rags. He threw those away last cycle. He had a coat on top of a black shirt with dark trousers. A good setup if he didn't say so himself. But then again, his outfit wasn't going to impress any city folk.

"I promise. I have coins." Mortis held out his hand holding six coppers.

"I suppose coins is coins," the shopkeeper lamented. Handing over two sticks full of meat and greens.

Mortis handed over the coins. He briefly thought about yanking them back.

No.

This is for Lily. She wouldn't want that. This way it was as if he earned the coins that paid for their meal honestly, with honest work.

He chuckled darkly.

Walking back to his homely shack in the Slums Mortis noticed something that couldn't be possible.

Lily's essence.

He was still blocks away from their shack so there was no way for him to see her essence here. It was in the corner of his vision so he kept swiveling his head to and fro. When he was able to lock on to her essence he sprinted into action. Holding the meat sticks for dear life.

The alleyway!

Sprinting to the opening of the alley and quickly surveying the scene, he couldn't believe his eyes. He rushed forward then, but...

He slowed...

And then...

He stopped.

Lily was always so bright. She was cheerful when the world was cruel. She was happy when the world brought sorrow. And she was content when the world gave them nothing. He taught her words with the books he bought her. She always asked for them. Saying she was so bored with no one to play with when he wasn't around, since he wouldn't let her leave. He taught her colors. He taught her numbers best he could. He even tried to teach her his trick at one point. She never got it though. Telling him he was lying just to make her look dumb.

And in return.

She taught him life was worth living in this cruel world.

"Lily!!!!" Mortis bellowed like a wild beast.

He unfroze. Time motioned forward again.

His legs crawled forth unknowingly.

"Lily!" Mortis bent down to his knees to cradle her small frame.

He gently parted her hair to reveal her full face. Devoid of color. Pale. He looked to her hands clutching something on her chest. He reached for it. A little figure of a swordsman. Something he told her he wanted to get someday. He squeezed her closer.

"You're gon' be okay," Mortis whispered. "You're gon' be okay," he repeated.

A shadow emerged. A dark clothed shadow. A mask. An insignia on its' breast.

Mortis looked up and noticed the shadow approaching him slowly.

"Get away from us!" he yelled. "Get back!" He cradled Lily away from the shadow.

But then, he noticed something else. Something strange. Lily's essence on the figure. He couldn't see them clearly but he felt them nonetheless. Various splats of it.

Lily's blood.

His eyes changed then. He only saw blood.

Everthing was coated in blood. The walls. The dirt. The refuse.

"Another scum," the shadow hissed. A rather surprisingly high voice. Like a boy just reaching maturity.

Mortis gently layed Lily down. Parting her hair to lay evenly out. He was calm and steady on the outside.

Inside, a storm was raging. His blood boiling.

He stood. Slowly. Pulling his small daggers on his boots.

They rushed each other then. Mortis didn't think. He couldn't think beyond this travesty.

Who was this person. Why did they kill Lily.

The shadow brought up a dagger into his left side.

He didn't flinch. Didn't try to move out of the way. He couldn't. Mortis took it head on. In return he went for his own offense. Bringing up his right dagger for a similar spot.

The shadow was faster though.

He couldn't land the blow. Every strike thereafter, every assult he launched were for naught. His body simply couldn't keep up. He wasn't made for combat. But he was relentless. He would die trying.

Failing the whole exchange, he settled for a straightfoward kick. Somehow landing and knocking a breath from the shadow. He threw both daggers immediately then, and pulled up the remaining daggers on his back. Neither struck the shadow, but he didn't care. The shadow outclassed him in speed.

This time he tossed one dagger in the air and brought up his last dagger to end this nightmare. The shadow was momentarily distracted, but even then his dagger didn't strike home. His continuous struggle of twists and turns, trying to end this dream, carried on. Still trying to find an opening for his dagger.

Trying to kill this monster.

Each twist the shadow cut him. Each turn he bled a little more.

Finally, when his clothes were bathed in blood, he stood stock still. The shadow, too, backed off a step and stopped.

"Finally dead," it hissed.

Mortis smiled. A blood red chuckle escaped his lips.

A dagger came from behind the shadow. Grazing an arm. The shadow twisted around expecting another opponent. But he saw no one. Another dagger flew by him. Before he knew it, bother daggers were circling him as if tied to an invisible strand. Swaying around him like a bola entangling a pole. The shadow was forced to spin around and around. Each rotation, squeezing and twisting a limb here and there. When the daggers came to a final spin, they both tore into the shadow.

Striking home. Blood spurting the walls.

More blood.

The shadow fell to both knees. Coughing. Hacking.

Mortis walked casually to the shadow. Picking up his thrown daggers.

His rage abating.

The storm quieting.

"I'm going to end this nightmare," Mortis spoke a different voice. A grating voice. "And I'm going to end you." Mortis stared at the shadow. Imprinting this moment. "Monster."

"I'm not the mon-"

A gurgle noise followed.

He dropped the daggers, then. He was tired. He felt only hollow in his heart. He turned around.

Back to Lily.

He walked heavily.

His vision returning.

He stooped low to carry her. Picking her up. She was still so small after all the meat sticks he'd bought her. He'd have thought she be as heavy as him now with the way she eats.

He stood still. Lifting his head to the heavens. Just embracing this moment. His blood red clothes. His bloody face. His bloody hands.

And her peaceful vision.

Mortis motioned his legs forward. Steady they were not, but progress nonetheless.

Two more shadows emerged from the opening of the alley. Different masks. Different insignias.

His energy left him. He collapsed. Dropping to his knees. Once again cradling Lily to his chest.

"Please...," he whimpered.

The shadows didn't move immediately, however. They glided past him.

Moments later he felt them at his back.

"You killed Torus?" a deep cultured voice. Fitting for a noble.

"Just leave us alone," Mortis weeped.

"Do we kill him?" a high-pitched voice. A girls most likely. "Although he did do everyone a favor, killing that waste of space even for trash."

"No," the cultured voice responded evenly.

"Why not?" the girl shadow asked.

One of the shadow circled to face him. Bending down on one knee.

"Did you kill that one there," he flicked his hand to indicate the corpse kneeling upright somehow.

Mortis nodded.

"We don't discriminate who we recruit into our ranks. Be they beggar, thieves, cutthroats. It doesn't matter. I see you have someone you care about there. That's good. A man with no care isn't a man at all. Though she may have passed on, you still breathe this air. And although one of our own killed her, it was ultimately you that failed to protect her."

Mortis snapped his head up.

Anger. Hatred. Rage.

Blood.

"Am I wrong," the shadow asked evenly.

Once again Mortis dropped his shoulders. Cradling Lily ever closer.

"Why...?" he whispered.

"Why did Torus kill that little one?" the shadow clearing his question.

He nodded.

"Perhaps wrong place, wrong time."

He cried. A deep mewl. His cries bawling.

It was shameful, but he did. He promised himself he'd never cry because Lily never did.

Even though their lives were so unfair.

So unjust.

Her life was taken on a whim. Ultor decided to claim her because it was the fancy of the season.

"Do you want power boy. Power to do whatever you want. To protect those dear to you. To uphold the little one's passing," the shadow beseeched him.

Mortis could do naught but shake his head.

"Then we are at your service. Demand and we shall obey. For we all are one."

"W-who are you?" Mortis whispered.

The shadow stood then. Offering both hands to take off his weight.

His regrets.

His anger.

His sadness.

"We are Umbra."