Fleur De Lis

Alys wandered along a familiar street, regretting the arguement she had inflicted on her parents. She realised, that now they were annoyed at her, they most likely would ring around to check on her later.

If they found out that in fact she had not gone to a party for Jess' birthday, and so discovered where it was she had really gone? She shook the idea from her thoughts, She was going to put a stop to it now anyway.

She cursed at the curb as she fell off of it into the road, twisting her ankle. Looking around, there was no-one to help her up, and so she took off her shoes and continued to cross the road, thus reaching her destination.

Deep breaths she thought to herself. Not like Kyle will hurt me. He'll understand.

The south of the city was avoided by people as often as possible, Everyone knew about the organised crime, the fights, the drugs that had embedded itself into society. No-one would dream of condoning it, and yet no-one would actively do anything to stop it either. So it stayed where it was, gang wars and all.

The buildings themselves were run-down, and full of travellers or squatters. Rubbish lined the streets, as well as a few drunks who had passed out on their way to the nearest off-license. Both of these things bought about the rats, who over-ran the place.

Windows were smashed, and the few that had been boarded up were covered in graffiti, tagging a particular building as a gang's territory.

Here, Alys stood out like a sore thumb. She was pretty, and wearing a dress that showed off her 17 year old figure in a good way. She took a deep breath, and knocked on the door of a dilapidated block of flats. It swung open straight away, the hinges groaning in protest.

A tall, lean man with a green snake winding its way up his forearm grinned at her with smoke-stained teeth. The was a malicious glint in his eye.

"Proof please" He sneered at her. Alys looked embarrassed.

"You know who I am, Pallaton." She did not know his real name, but that was the name she'd been given. It meant 'fighter' in Native American, and she had been told that he had once killed a police officer with his bare hands in Mexico.

"Do I? I think I'm going to have to see that you're one of us." He raised his eyebrows at her expectantly. She sighed, and began to lift up her dress.

There, at the top of her thigh, was a small green Fleur de Lis.

He grinned at her again, and opened a second door to let her though.

The End

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