The only reason Alonso lives is not because of his own bravery or his own actions. It's dumb luck that keeps him breathing. He's lucky that the predator has a big ego. He wanted to look straight into the eyes of his prey, wanting to savor the look in the boy's eyes. With the bow being so massive it's difficult to re-direct at point-blank range. If he were to shoot from a distance, Alonso would be dead. Alonso is lucky that for some odd reason, the sudden urge to fight sprouted in him. However, luck can only do so much.
Unlucky for Alonso, his arrow doesn't strike the opponent at all. It only grazes him and the predator is forced to leap back in order to get another shot.
The predator opens his mouth to speak, but Alonso can't understand anything he says. But the way his eyes scrunch together and the spit that flies from his mouth is enough to understand. He pulls back the arrow, now at a fair distance there's not much Alonso can do.
I can dodge one or two, but, can I keep dodging?
Alonso shakes his head, no time to think. He grits his teeth and readies himself to leap in any direction.
Bop.
From above, almost as if an angel itself woke up and chose violence, a pebble smacks the predator right on his nostril. It's not especially strong, but it's enough to distract the predator from his deep concentration.
"Hey!"
Alonso looks up without moving his neck, from the rooftop he sees Mr. Castro providing cover with what looks to be a slingshot. Then, the clerk begins to shout in a language that is foreign to Alonso but not for the predator. Whatever Mr. Castro said is enough for him to look straight in his direction and begin to shout back.
I don't know what's going on, but---
Alonso sucks in a sharp breath and sprints forward. With the arrow gripped in both of his chubby hands he strikes it forward. With a triumphant scream, he shoves the arrow forward.
The predator, even with his attention directed towards Mr. Castro, who now makes himself scarce, grabs the arrow and tosses it aside. He scowls and instead of shooting, he places the bow back in its helm and pulls out a hunting knife.
He takes one step forward---
---And that was the last one he would ever take. Alonso watches the body fall to the floor, a crossbow arrow has made itself home in his skull. The young boy covers his mouth and looks away.
"Alonso! Here!"
A rope drops in front of the child, he looks up to see Mr. Castro, urging him to take it. Before he does, he looks once more at the predator.
"It was so fast", he whispers to himself.
"Alonso, hurry! They're closing in!"
From the alleyway, Alonso hears the footsteps of the predators rushing in. He quickly grabs the arrow and grabs the rope. Mr. Castro, although not the strongest he's able to pull his little body up towards the roof.
Mr. Castro desperately pulls the little boy to safety, they both fall down and breathe heavily on the rooftop.
"W-why...", Mr. Castro tries to say, "Why didn't you just accept help from the get-go!"
"...I'm sorry", Alonso says half-heartedly, "Thank you for coming back. I would have, uh, stopped existing".
On the floor, Alonso spots the weapon used to snuff out a life.
"What is that?"
"What is what?" Mr. Castro follows the boy's line of sight, "Oh, that's a crossbow".
"...Never heard of it", Alonso says, "Why do you have one?"
"Believe it or not, but delivering the mail is a dangerous job", he scoffs, "I've been held at knife, bow, everything points too many times to count. Especially back in the day when I used to do runs in the Wild Area. Robbers would come on horses and start shooting. We had no choice but to adopt some violent tendencies".
A moment of silence passes. The boy eyes Mr. Castro from the corner of his eye.
"So you've killed before?"
"...Unfortunately, yes", Mr. Castro begins to get back up, "It's just been a while since I did so. Sorry you had to see that".
"...It's okay, you saved me, actually I don't mean to sound cold-hearted", he says, "But why didn't you use that in the first place? Everythings kind of hazy, but did you hit him with a rock first?"
Mr. Castro nods, "Yeah", he scoffs, "I don't know exactly what I was trying either. Maybe I wanted to solve this without violence. But, I guess in the end violence always wins".
The young boy can't find an answer, so he keeps quiet.
Soon after, Alonso lifts himself up. After dusting himself off he looks towards the view before him. He frowns as the fires consume both living creatures and non-living creatures. Many buildings that took months to build are now burning into ash. The savages seem to be retreating after a brief battle with the Knights.
"Cora is no longer safe".
"Looks that way", Mr. Castro says, he stands beside the boy, "They've been doing these small raids for months now, how long until they come at us with their military force?"
The ominous question is left unanswered.
"Hey", the adult suddenly whispers, "Want to leave this place?"
"Sorry, did you say something?"
"...Nevermind. Stay up here for a bit longer there might be some stragglers", Mr. Castro hurries towards a floor-door, he opens it and slips through.
What am I thinking!? Even if there are constant raids, being inside the walls is much safer than the Wild Area, he grips the ladder tightly, I promised his mother I'd keep him safe.
***
After what felt like forever Mr. Castro returned and told the young boy he could return home.
Mr. Castro, although concerned, is unable to care for the boy. He waves him goodbye.
"Are you going to keep that?"
"Keep wh---Oh", Alonso laughs, "I-I didn't even realize I was still holding this thing...Yeah, I'm going to keep this".
"Well, give Mr. Samuel my regards!"
"Oh, yeah, good 'ol Sam", Alonso laughs, "You bet I will!"
Alonso trots off the stairs and onto the bloody street. Workers wrap the bodies and toss them onto a carriage. For those who aren't citizens of Cora, they simply burn them. Knights survey the streets and the civilians stay home. The town of Cora, usually a lively one is now completely silent. That is, for everywhere except the slums.
"Those guys should come more often!"
"Oi, oi, oi! That's my shield!"
"Piss off!"
As expected, the residents of the slums fight each other for the spoils of war. Children hang tightly onto random pieces of silver the fallen Knights and adults fight each other for the more valuable objects: swords, shields, and pieces of bloody armor.
Alonso sighs and wobbles his way into the slums.
"Ow", the young boy hisses. The pain from this morning's adventures is slowly coming back to haunt him.
"Sup idiot", somebody says, their voice high-pitched, "That's a nice arrow you got there. It'd be a shame if somebody took it. Somebody like me. Make my day easier and just give it to me, I don't wanna increase my body count. So, give me your arrow... LOOK AT ME KID!"
Alonso doesn't give this person the time of day. He tries to hurry but when his body fights back, he just ignores everything this person says. It also helps that whoever is trying to mug him is much shorter than him. So when the kid kicks at his leg, Alonso can't help but smack back.
"Hey!" Alonso finally moves to acknowledge this person, as he does he somehow ends up tripping this kid. That doesn't stop Alonso from doing his thing.
"Look right into my eyes!", Alonso lowers himself, "I had a terrible ass day, and right now I still kinda feel like kicking somebody's ass! If it happens to be some little kid, so be it! I will kick your ass, and then come to your home and kick your parent's asses too! After that, I'll travel back in time and do the same to your ancestors!"
The kid, although not impressive in stature tries to make it up with the look in his eyes. Whoever he is, he woke up and chose violence.
"Do it then! You won't!"
Alonso rears his foot back and with a shout, he kicks---right into the dirt making a dust cloud around this kid. He turns around and doesn't look back.
***
"Honey, I'm home", Alonso whispers, "As if that will ever happen".
The boy's shanty house consists of a jar and a tattered futon. Before anything else, he gets on his knees and prays in front of the jar.
"Sam", he starts, "Today was another terrible day. I mean, I'm not expecting anything else but today was especially bad...I really wish you were still here".
Alonso continues to tell Samuel about his day, at the end of his charade, he can't help but pull his legs inside and cry. All the emotions come pouring out like a waterfall. Snot runs on top of the dried blood and the tears make the ground fertile.
Alonso, only a young boy finally looks like it. His tiny body shivers and he mutters for his mom, "Mom, I need you. Please, come back".
"Sorry kid", a deep voice cuts in, "But if you make any sudden movements. I'll kill you".
Alonso sigs, "Ain't that the story of my life?"
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