Never Take a Risk
It had been a slaughter. In a meaningless battle in the slums where they lived, the gang leader had slit the throat of a boy he thought was too slick. Knowing the leader’s slogan to be “never take a risk”, the younger members were dissatisfied.
As a small group of them smuggled his body out in the night at a snail’s pace, the redhead who spoke with a slur snarled that he was leaving the gang. The others knew it wouldn’t be easy. First they would have to slay their leader, after talking about it, they decided to smother their leader the next night as he was sleeping on the slate he called a bed.
Slumping together to the ground because of the weight of the dead boy, the redhead said he wanted a snack. No one else was hungry except for the new girl who was wearing red slippers. She had been found all alone on the sly the week before. As they smacked their lips on the chocolate that was now also smeared over their faces the redhead looked slyly at her and said that with him the new leader there would be a slot for a new queen. She smiled back and said she was available as she reached down to pick up the sling they were using to carry the dead boy. That was the signal and they all grouped together to carry the boy on their backs as if they were snails.
But as the smog fell on their slum in the afternoon of the next day two more bodies were found. Someone had alerted the boss and the redhead and the girl with red slippers were also dead. “Never take a risk”, the leader muttered. And everyone knew there would never be a new leader of this gang.