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A Dusting of RedSpots

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“LINES GET BACK!” Edge screamed, running towards her. The jaguar turned to him, confused and dazzed.

The beggar pulled his knife and came towards her…


Edge slammed into him, knocking the knife from his hand. The beggar snarled at him, trying to bite at him with his broken beak. Edge snarled back and, with a quick twist of his hand, broke the bastard’s neck.


As the monster dusted, Edge panted turning back to the cat.


“Why would you do that? He was just asking for money!” Lines said. “I was just gonna give him a couple G.”


“HE WAS PULLING A KNIFE ON YOU!” Edge screamed, holding out the silver bladee. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT HIS GOAL WAS, BUT HE WAS GOING TO HURT YOU.”


“You can’t just assume everything like that. You probably just startled him…” Lines said, looking pale at the blade. “I could have reached him…”


“AND YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO TAKE THE CHANCE! I’VE SAID IT BEFORE. THIS ISN’T THE SURFACE! THIS IS FELL! NOTHING IS SAFE OR FUZZY. CERTAINLY NOT ANYONE ON THE STREET.” He turned and began to walk off.


“You’re not always right, Edge! There are good people in the world.” Lines said, catching up to him. “You just have to give them…”


“A CHANCE? I JUST EXPLAINED THAT! NO ONE CAN GET A CHANCE IN THIS UNIVERSE!”


“What makes you so sure you’re right?” Lines demanded, stepping in front of Edge. “Give me one piece of evidence to why you’re right.”


Edge folded his arms and looked down at her. “BOTH MY BROTHER AND I ARE STILL ALIVE, AREN’T WE?”