Genre: Mystery/Crime
He liked to imagine himself as some sort of Godfather just like in the movies. He did not just watch mafia movies, he devoured them, memorised all the lines. The duvet covering his bed had lots of fish designs on it, and thus he slept with the fishies every night and lived to tell about it.
Walking into the kitchen, he opened the fridge and took out the milk. He drank it straight from the bottle because he was hardcore. Hardcore, that meant he was tough as nails, unlike James, his brother, who was in the next room, probably still crying. “Suck it up” he had told him “Men do not cry.”
People always assumed he was the older brother, not just because he was bigger or that he spoke with a certain authority, that demanded obedience, but the way he spoke first, answered for the both of them and fought his battles.
Swigging his milk, as if it was snake venom that could kill a cow from a hundred paces, he went to check on his brother. Anything he did, he made to look gangster, it was all about the right attitude. James was trying hard not to show that he had been crying, he knew his brother despised any sign of weakness.
“See, I told you it was just scratches, but you almost had me convinced you were dying” and indeed now that he was all cleaned up, there was nothing more serious than scrapes, no bandages were even needed. James looked suitably sheepish as he replied “I felt like I was dying. Thank you for carrying me home.”
“You are not heavy at all you are my brother” he said with a smile. “To business” suddenly all serious as he took a sip from his milk “you know this injustice must be answered blood for blood. I’ll call up the troop, they are good little soldiers afraid of nothing, except me.”
Soon they were all gathered in the tool-shed at the back of the house. The door was bolted shut and would not be opened to anyone who did not know the secret way of knocking. Club houses had to be secure, it said so in the rules he had written. One had to live by certain code of conduct, otherwise you fell for everything. “Gentlemen” he begun “One of mine was attacked today, he was minding his own business and some fell creature jumped him. I am my brother’s keeper and the brute must learn his lesson, it also serves as a warning to others. I keep my brother. I will dine on the bones of one who crosses me, gentlemen we go to war.” The army of six all yelled huzzah in unison.
They spent the entire afternoon seeking out their mark but failed to find it. “The beast seems to have gone underground, must’ve figured out we were coming for it” he finally concluded “but I have a plan __”
Just then a tall shadow loomed right over where they were crouching and an authoritative voice along with it.
“Boys, it’s time to come inside and your friends must run along home now, it’s getting rather late.”
“Yes mother” he replied
“Mum can we have goose for dinner tomorrow?”
“Yes my darlings, why not.”
“Troop, tomorrow we eat the beast!”
“Huzzah!!” the other boys cheered.
~The End.
And this week’s #Blogbattle
Becoming The Muse 
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