By Sharma Wild. First published on Fanfiction.net. 2004.
I saw him swaggering down Murderers’ Alley on his way to Paradise Square, lean and mean like them knives he carries. Dressed in a top hat and finery, as if he was a fancy gentleman instead of a common crook like the rest of us. Him and his boys.
I walk with ’em now. Walk tall by the Butcher’s side, as posh as the rest of ’em. I show the Natives’ colours proudly, keeping his pace. For all the world knows, I’m walking to the beat of his drum.
Bill Cutting. Bill the Butcher.
He has taken me under his wings. He pats my shoulder and calls me ‘son’.
And every time I set eyes on him I see you laying on your back in the mud with your life’s blood seepin’ out of you.
Are you proud of me for avenging you, Pa? For havin’ sand enough to woo the dragon? And I’m close, oh so close…