Crooked Hearts

Episode 14

I take a step forward, slicing my knife through the air in an arc, but he swings his other sword, and I lunge back. Its tip cuts a piece of fabric from my shirt. He retreats, swirling his blade around with a masterful grace as he does. "Get out of here!" I turn to Miche's voice; Junior is here as well, and it is clear he is telling Mathilda to run as he is already out of the fight.

Junior rushes for her, but Arthur stands between them; Mathilda bolts out of the alley, but Ben is chasing after her. "I'll get her." I sprint to chase after her, glancing back to see my childhood friends, not sure who will make it out. I clench my jaw, shaking my head to clear my doubts.

My heart is torn between them and her when it shouldn't be; she's just a random girl I know for a week, yet here I am, abandoning my friends to save her. I turn the corner to see her held up against the wall by the neck; he is strangling her. I whip out a throwing knife; it flies across the alley and catches him on the shoulder, and he turns to look at me.

"Put her down, Ben, just you and me." He smiles, turning to look at her, and she's choking as he presses her against the wall harder and grips her neck tighter. I rush for him, but he flings her off to the side; my hands reach for her as she flies towards me, and I fall to the ground as I catch her in my arms. Coughing escapes her. "It's okay; you'll be fine."

She pushes against the ground to get up, hands trembling in fear. My gaze flickers towards Ben, who is still standing where he was as if challenging me, pulling the knife out from his shoulder and throwing it away.

I rise to my feet, taking slow steps towards him before exploding forward, swinging with all my might. My fist cracks against the side of his jaw; his head snaps slightly to the side, but he simply grins.

My eyes widen, then my jaw tightens. He is trying to intimidate me; I chamber my leg as I spin, aiming my kick on his face. My heel landing against his wrist as he raises his hand to block, but my blow breaks through his defense, and my heel lands on the side of his face. A smile escapes me as he stumbles slightly off to the side.

I lunge forward with a couple of straight punches, landing both cleanly on the solar plexus, finishing it up with a hook to the side of his torso. Hard and fast. He swings a kick, and I raise both hands to block, my back crashing against the wall. His hand lunges for my neck, pushing it against the wall and gripping it tightly.

I slam an elbow against his elbow joint, dropping to the ground as I grab hold of his ankles, lifting both legs up and shoving them against his stomach as I tug at his ankles. He crashes backward into the ground. He turns over and pushes himself off the ground; I rush for him, jumping on his back wrapping an arm around his neck for a chokehold with my legs around his waist.

He manages to rise up to his feet, trying to free himself off my grip, and I hold on with all my might, wanting to choke him out but he falls on his back. My back crashing against the hard ground as his weight crushes on me; he breaks free as my hold weakens from the pain. He turns around, holding me down by the neck and choking me. I slam a fist against his arms, but they remain strong, struggling to free myself but his weight pins me down effortlessly.

My heart racing, breath suffocating. It feels like an eternity; his grip weakens to the sound of a thud. It is Mathilda; she slams against him again, and again. He moves his hand to grab at her; my breathing returns. She slams a heel against his face, and I slam a palm to his elbow joint. She rams herself against him, and I muster all my strength. Our combined strength turning him over.

I roll off to the side, rising to my feet and facing him. And he rises to his feet as well, standing between us. I feint an attack, and he swings at me, missing widely. She rushes forward, smacking him on the face with a blow that snaps his head to the side, but he swings back immediately. Unfazed.

She drops off to the side, her baton clanging against the ground, and I lunge forward. Slamming a heel against his back. He staggers forward; I swing another kick as he turns, catching him on the side of his head. It stuns him momentarily. I step forward to land a straight, but he swings a fist at me, I duck under it, rising up for an uppercut but lurches forward instead. His boot has found me first.

A cough of blood escapes me as I take a few steps back, hand on my stomach as I muster my strength but fall to one knee regardless. Mathilda rushes forward; he turns to look at her, a sickening crack echoes as the baton lands on his head. Blood trickling down his forehead.

He swings for her, but she dodges it, weaving away from him but gets caught in her attempt to circle around him; he is holding her against the wall by the neck. My eyes widen as my knife glints on the ground; I crawl for it and turn to look at them. She slams her baton against his leg, then his thigh, his arm, and finally his head. But her strike stopped mid-swing; he catches her by the wrist.

I get up; he wrestles the baton off her hand as I sprint for him, the baton falling to the ground, and I slam the blade through the side of his torso. He lets out a cough of blood; her fist cracks against the side of his skull. Screaming with the third punch, breaths ragged. And I yank the knife out, blood splattering, but she kicks him away before I could pierce it through his windpipe. "Wait!" Her voice firm, commanding.

"He would've strangled us to death." Strangler Ben, a name earned from his work of almost always killing women by strangling them, a sick psycho who relishes the agonizing pain and slow death he causes them.

"We should find the Enforcers, place him in a cell."

A laugh escapes me. "Enforcers?" I stare her dead in the eyes, tone full of disbelief. "You think those bastards would do anything? They're Imperial dogs. Corrupt and-" I hold my tongue as realization dawns on me, for a moment I had forgotten her brother was one. I turn my face away. "Not all of them, but most are just thugs in uniform. They don't care about people like us."

"I know those who do." My brows furrow, and I turn to look at Ben, who is making a run for it; I turn to face him, eyes set straight, and I throw my knife but it clangs against the wall as he turns the corner. It was foolish of me to keep my eyes on him. "Well, neither of us got what we wanted then." She turns her face away, not sure what she makes of my words. "Let's get back to the others; they might need our help still." I walk away, and she follows close behind me.