Twin Cities

"What is the count at now?" Benny asked, adjusting his top hat.

The other men and one woman said nothing, sitting around the circular oak table. They all stared at Hitchcock, the resident communication leader for the City of Aloran. Hitchcock took a deep breath before pressing the button on his radio.

"City of Bloran. This is City of Aloran. What is your current count?" Hitchcock said and held his breath. 

Beads of sweat on his forehead were illuminated by the sole candle in the middle of the table. Everyone was quiet, waiting to hear if what they had done was enough. The silence went on for a minute, but to Benny it might as well have been an eternity.

"City of Aloran to City of Bloran. We have...76,120 accounted for," the radio announced in a somber tone.

The people around the table put their heads down with a choir of sighs. Hitchcock gripped his radio tighter before he turned it off. Benny walked around to the woman and put his hand on her shoulder. The red dress felt smooth in his hand, but did not bring him any comfort.

"Elizabeth. You don't have to be here for this," Benny said.

She put her hand on his and looked up to him. "I need to see this through."

Benny nodded. "Alright everyone. You heard the count. Twenty more people need to go."

"Do we have to? I have seen enough death for one day," a bald man with huge biceps said.

"You know the rules, Kenneth. Without equal numbers, the curse will return on both our cities.”

Kenneth was the first to get up, hoisting his comically sized mallet over his bare shoulder. The mallet head was stained with blood from the others that had come before. Following him was a slender man in a tight yellow leotard. His blonde hair swayed with youthful energy, but his body was sluggish. 

"Guys, perk up now. You can't go out there like that,” Benny said.

Kenneth ignored him, while the younger man put on the biggest fake smile he could. The rest at the table got up and followed the other two out of the room. Roars from outside funneled into the room when the door opened. Hitchcock got up and turned to Benny.

"When you're done, let me know. I don't want to watch the show," Hitchcock said.

"I don't blame you. Have a good night."

Hitchcock nodded and left out the door. This time a voice could be heard for a brief moment over a loudspeaker before the door closed in the dark room. Elizabeth got up from her seat and adjusted Benny's flashy uniform that made him look like the nutcracker. She stared into his weary eyes, both knowing what came next.

"You are the bravest man I know, Benny."

"I wish there was another way."

"I do too," she said, laying a gentle kiss on his cheek. "The show must go on."

Benny sighed and rolled his head around causing his neck to crack. He walked up to the door with her, holding her hand. Taking a few deep breaths he looked back to Elizabeth, who had her eyes shut tight for a moment before opening them. They both gave each other an acknowledging glance and pushed open the door.

The roars of the crowd and bright lights blasted them as they skipped across the wood stage. People cheered and clapped, with more vigor as they made their way center stage to where their soon to be victims hung by their wrists from gallows.

"We are back!" Benny announced to the crowd, which followed with cheers. 

He could not see where the crowd ended, but their response suggested that no one had left during the intermission. It brought him great pain that people wanted to watch such cruelty, but he had no time to dwell on it. He had a show to do. 

"Sorry we kept you waiting. This one can get a little handsy," he said, pretending to pinch her butt. Without missing a beat she slapped him across the face, sending the crowd into laughter. 

"Hey, save some for our guests, Sweety," Benny said with a smirk.

She reached across his waist and drew the saber that was on his belt. Elizabeth put the blade under his chin, causing him to freeze. The crowd got silent, excited to watch the drama unfold.

"Who are you calling, Sweety?" Elizabeth asked.

"Come on, darling. You could hurt someone with that," Benny said, backing up toward the hanging men. Elizabeth kept the blade close to him, not willing to let him go.

"Isn't that the intention?"

"Sure, but not me I hope," he said with his hands in the air. 

"Depends, are you going to touch me again?"

"I was hoping to do more than that," he said with a wink.

Elizabeth took a wide swing at his head, giving him plenty of time to duck out of the way. The blade instead slashed open the man behind him spilling his guts all over the stage. His cries of pain were muffled by the roar from the crowd. Benny moved to his left, lining up another helpless victim to his back.

"Okay, I get it. It's that time of the month. You're sensitive," Benny said.

Elizabeth yelled and charged him. He sidestep her stab with ease, allowing the man behind him to get stabbed through the heart. She tried to pull it out, but it was stuck for some reason. Elizabeth put her foot up on him to push away, but the blade was not going nowhere.

"You need help with that?" Benny said, leaning against another helpless man down the row. 

The crowd laughed and Elizabeth still struggled to get the blade out of the man. Kenneth walked over while the young man in the yellow leotard walked across the top bar that suspended the helpless men.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I think I can help you with that,” Kenneth said, walking toward her and lifting his mallet.

Elizabeth stepped aside and Kenneth rocked his massive mallet back and forth by his legs. The crowd grew quiet in anticipation. After the seventh time, he lifted the mallet and swung it into the hilt of the sword. Benny pushed off the man he was leaning against and the blade flew like a hot knife through butter into the bodies down the line. The man Benny pushed narrowly dodged the blade, but the others were not so lucky. Going all the way to the end, the one blade killed seventeen men. The crowd cheered from the impressive feat of strength to which Kenneth hesitated a little bit before getting back into character. Kenneth flexed his muscles and tossed his mallet on the ground.

"I was not expecting that. I guess hitting the gym has its benefits," Benny said.

Elizabeth leaned against Kenneth, lifting one foot in the air. "Why thank you, Strong Man...my hero!"

"Your hero?" Benny said.

"Why yes. I didn't see you help.”

"You were trying to stab me," Benny flailing his hands. 

Elizabeth squeezed Kenneth's arm. "He has such strong muscles. I can't say the same about you."

The crowd jeered, awaiting Benny's retort.

"Oh, you want a strong man. I'll show you a strong man," Benny said, charging up to Kenneth. Kenneth broke away from Elizabeth and went to square off with Benny. Kenneth stood only a few inches taller, but the difference in muscle mass was obvious. "I challenge you to a duel.”

Kenneth gave him a bellowing belly laugh. "You are so small. It will hardly be fair."

"We'll see about that," Benny said, extending his hand out to the side. From above, the man in the yellow leotard dropped the saber into his hand. Kenneth went over to pick up his mallet. They both circled each other. To the crowd, it was two gladiators trying to find an opening for attack. To them, it was timing their choreography. Kenneth was the first to charge, swinging his mallet. 

Benny dodged his exaggerated swings and followed up with a few of his own, both flawless in their dangerous dance. Elizabeth stood next to the last man hanging, who was still rocking back and forth from being pushed out of the way.

"Sooo...how's it hanging?" Elizabeth asked, getting a few laughs from the crowd.

The hanging man cried next to her, still shook by his near death experience. The battle continued on center stage, while the man in the yellow leotard did an acrobatic routine that would impress even the harshest critic. People were cheering and enjoying themselves, but the show could not go on forever. Benny had Kenneth backpedaling toward the last hanging man. Kenneth gave Benny the cue and he went for a stab. Falling to the floor, Kenneth avoided the blade by mere inches.

The blade went through the last man and caused him to scream in pain. He glanced over to Elizabeth who was hiding her pain behind a well rehearsed smile. Benny pulled the blade out and the blood poured over Kenneth. Kenneth put his hands up, trying to block the stream of blood.

"I give up! I surrender!" Kenneth yelled in a high pitched voice.

Benny turned to face the audience and lifted his bloody saber. The crowd cheered and Elizabeth rushed to embrace him. They let the crowd calm down before they wrapped up their performance.

"Am I strong enough for you now?" Benny asked Elizabeth.

"Too early to tell. I think we will need to take this somewhere private." Elizabeth slapped him on the butt, causing him to jump.

Benny raised his eyebrows and gave the audience a big smile. "Well you heard the lady. Scram. All of you! I have a rendezvous with this fetching creature.”

The crowd clapped as the two made their way off stage. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close. Once they entered the safety of the room, she collapsed in his arms. Her tears and moans were muffled in his chest. He held her up, letting a single tear leave his eye in solidarity. It was another successful performance. Benny patted her on the back.

"Let it out. Let it out."

The Poor

"Day 35. I was almost captured today by a swarm of them. They are getting more ingenious and desperate by the day. Trip wire hidden in the sewers. I cannot risk another chase down there again..." Daven said into his recorder. 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reliving that moment. It smelt like a backed up septic tank. The water tensed his calf muscles as he tried to run through it. His fancy white collared shirt had turned into a brown and green monstrosity that locked in the smell of his new environment. The solid metal tube offered little hope, stretching farther than he could see in the dark. All it did was amplify the squeaks of the rats. 

"He went this way!" a voice echoed from behind.

Light started to come around the bend. Daven ran for it, splashing water everywhere, afraid The Poor caught up to him. He took a few more steps and tripped over a wire just above the water. He flipped over head first, gulping a mouthful of the disgusting water. He gagged on its putrid taste and looked around for an exit. A little farther down was a ladder. Salvation was found.

Daven opened his eyes again. He was safe. Holding his recorder, he was tucked inside a cardboard box. His knees burrowed into his chest and his arms kept them tight together while he held the recorder up to his face.

"If I don't make it, I just want to say I'm sorry for what I did. I should have never flaunted my wealth, especially at the expense of The Poor. Wiping my ass with hundred dollar bills and giving it to them was not my finest moment. I learned my lesson and humbly ask you to take this sincere apology into consid…"

The box caved in with a foot punching through the top, smacking the recorder out of his hand. He reached for it in the dark until he was dragged out of the box. The Poor had caught up to him. Surrounded by dirty men with missing teeth and various degrees of balding, they took turns kicking him with their wet shoes. Daven tried to protect his head while the blows kept coming. 

"Please! I'm sorry! Please!" he said in-between kicks.

"It's too late for that. Nobody messes with The Poor!"

They kept kicking well after his eyes closed and his body went limp. Pedestrians walked by and some stuck around to watch, but nobody tried to save Daven. His fate was sealed. There was only one rule in this city. Don't mess with The Poor.