Victory_Heart of Sword

Fear? Anxiety? Hope? Survival? What he felt at that moment was perhaps an amalgamation of all those things… or none at all. His legs were aching, muscles and tendons screaming in agony. With each step it seemed as if another cut appeared on his leathery feet. He reached a stone wall, completely dwarfing him; its jagged surface looking as if it were made up of countless knives. Bony fingers clutched at the towering wall. A dead end. He'd driven himself into a corner. His eyes flickered to the right before checking the left. Nothing. Just walls of stone. Three looming figures slowly closed in on him. For every inch they covered, a bead of sweat would appear on the boy's forehead. He wanted to die; death would free of him of his problems. He could rest to his heart's content. His heart's content… What was his heart content with? Death hurt. Death was painful. Death was dark. Death was empty.

Three burly figures towered over him, their bodies looming over the boy who seemed like an ant in comparison.

"Run all ya'd like ya little shit. Ya won't be seein' the light o' day again" one of them proclaimed through gritted teeth. His voice coarse and grating, like sandpaper being rubbed against the boys ear. The man took a step forward, the other two preferring to stay back - cutting off any escape route.

The moon's beauty was slowly being revealed as the thick clouds which had completely covered it a moment ago begun moving. The clouds moved fast. Too fast. The soft glow of the moon enveloped the alleyway; the stone wall included. Running diagonally across the wall to the very top were crevices. His eyes lingered on them, he'd never been more thankful for the moon. A chance. An opportunity. Sparks danced in his eyes filled with hope. Malik didn't believe in coincidence and took it as a sign. A sign he was not yet to die. His fingers quickly slithered into the first crevice, his legs and feet exerting as much force as he could against the walls on his left and right. He pulled on the crevice and pulled himself up, his legs keeping him stable. Like a snake his fingers found the next one… at the same time the man's fingers found his shirt.

"Eager to leave aren't we?" A vehement force pulled on Malik's shirt, his foothold lost, fingers ripped away from the crevices. His back met the cold and wet stone with a muffled thud. For a moment Malik felt his vision go blank, a ringing resounded in his ears and his world was disoriented.

'What am I even doing here? Why did I have to be born? I never asked for any of this shit, all I ask for is a roof over my head not even walls. Enough food to just last me the day. I don't need luxury nor indulgence. I just wanna live like any other kid my age.' Malik's self-misery was cut short as a kick filled with anger from the depths of the man's soul rammed into his stomach. His stomach felt like it'd been turned inside out. Wanting desperately to vomit but his stomach was empty to begin with. The sour taste of bile mixed with his stomach acid reached his tongue, slightly escaping his mouth onto the floor. The man gripped Malik's black disheveled hair which covered his face almost entirely, making him look like a crazed maniac. A sharp slap was delivered to Malik's face, staining his warm beige cheek with a pinkish red. Malik wanted nothing more than to kill the man in front him. His ugly, brutish face filled him with such hatred that it was evident through his tear filled eyes. The man's bald head had raindrops dripping down it, giving his sinister smile and eyes a gleam under the moonlight.

"Those eyes o' yours… I hate 'em." Another sharp slap sent Malik flying to the floor, the sound of maniacal laughter filling his ears and his alone. Nobody was there to help him. The sound of cars on the road filled the night sky. The only one able to see his suffering was the moon, yet it offered no assistance, idle in the sky.

A trickle of blood leaked out from Malik's nose, his breathing laborious. His eyes were tired, sick of it all.

'Ah – where do I go from here? Even if I make it out… I have nobody waiting for me. There's nobody to take care of me. Even if I survive I'll only live to experience this again tomorrow. Maybe I should just… let them kill me.'

The sparks in his eyes were slowly being extinguished with each passing moment. Any hope and desire to escape was being replaced by fear and confusion. His heart was in a mess. The only thing he was confident of was… He wanted to kill the bastard in front of him. He wanted to rip him apart, give him ten times the suffering he endured. Make his life a living hell.

'Dying. Sure. I'll die. I can die. I'm fine with that. But I want to at least take that bastard with me. I want to at least take him with me too. Make him suffer.'

His body was basked in the moon's light, laying on the floor with his chest rising and falling in quick succession. Malik's eyes gazed at the moon longingly, a small smile appearing on his face. "You're… a real bastard aren't you? Look at me over here, I'm dyin' and you're just sat there in the sky, looking at me. How does the sight of me make you feel? Angry? Happy? Oh moon, you're so beautiful yet you're real cruel ya know? If you're gonna watch so keenly… at least help me out." Malik's breathing became more and more laborious, his lungs felt as if pierced by a million needles.

"The kid's gone batshit crazy – he's talkin' to himself boss!" one of the three men exclaimed whilst in hysterics.

The man they called "Boss" slowly walked towards Malik, relishing in the twelve year old's plight before him. A toothy grin was plastered across his face, the moon's light illuminated his yellow and jagged teeth.

"Boy… why don't ya' just tell us already? This hurts me just as much as it hurts ya'… How 'bout this?" Boss crouched down to Malik's level so he was just above his face. His hands fell to his own thigh, lingering upon the scabbard of his dagger. Soon the feeling of cold steel was against Malik's face. Not enough to make him bleed, but enough to threaten him.

"Ya' tell me…. 'n I'll let ya' live. Hell, I'll even make sure you're treated well after this. All ya' have to do is tell me. What good's holdin' onto that woman's secrets. She din't love ya'. Ya' got no obligation towards her." The dagger slowly traced random lines across Malik's face, threatening to dig in at any moment. "All ya' have to do is talk. Surely that bitch's secrets aren't worth more than ya' life." Malik's eyes locked with Boss' own. He could see everything from his sadistic pleasure and his desire for domination to his desperation. Boss was desperate… just as desperate as he was. Deep within Boss' eyes Malik could see it, a hint of panic and rush. Boss' only lead to find out what he wanted was Malik … Malik understood this. He also understood Boss could not truly kill him yet. Not until he talks at least.

A cough escaped from Malik's throat, bringing with it the metallic taste of blood. His already red lips were stained a deeper red with his blood.

"..ah….Fine. I'll tell you. Just… give me something… anything to lessen the pain first." Malik spoke through bloodied, clenched teeth. Boss' eyes shone with delight at Malik's resignation.

"Atta boy…" Boss turned his head to the two men who were still blocking the escape routes. "Oi Niel, toss me a life pearl, now." His tone was filled with cold command alongside a tinge of urgency. Neil handed over a light green pearl, about the size of a marble, it had an ethereal glow enveloping it, an otherworldly item. Boss placed the pearl in Malik's bloody mouth; the pearl caused Malik's mouth to glow a soft green before it suddenly darkened.

Warmth spread through Malik's body as he felt what little strength he'd had return to his limbs. As each second passed he felt another cut close up, another bruise disappearing; the feeling was surreal, as if he was held tight in a motherly embrace. Soon the lovely sensation began dimming and before long it had disappeared, leaving a rejuvenated Malik sat in place. "Speak. Now." Boss' tone instantly became serious, he'd waited long enough to get this information. From hunting down a child to having to beat him, he'd done all he could, now was the time for his efforts to be rewarded.

"B-Before we talk…" Malik began speaking, he felt a growing anxiety within him, gnawing at his very being. The fear of death and wanting to live had filled his mind earlier such that now that he was healed, he could truly get a grasp for the danger he was in. He was about to say something which his very life depended on. One wrong word, one step out of line and he could kiss his life goodbye; he'd spend the rest of his days rotting in a ditch, not even a grave to his name.

"The information you want… I don't have."

Pindrop silence ensued between the four figures in the alley. The only sounds being that of the raining beating against the floor.

"What did you just sa-" Before Boss could even finish his sentence Malik spoke up again, ready to defend himself.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Mother used her sword's will to convey the message. It rests within me but I haven't been forged… You know what that means, don't you?"

Boss could only stare dumbfoundedly at the boy before him. His pupils had dilated and the once toothy grin was nowhere to be seen.

"That bitch! Fuck!" his voice exploded with emotion, if before it felt like sandpaper against Malik's ears now it felt like he was being grated against rocks, it was a truly terrible sound. A beastial roar erupted out of Boss before he slowly began calming down.

"We'll come back for you boy, don't even for a minute think of escaping, we see you at all times." Boss turned around, beckoned over the two other men and slowly trudged off, his back looked much smaller to Malik who was always used to seeing it as a wide mountain. His first victory… Malik fell on the floor in exhaustion, the life pearl had physically healed him but a twelve year old was still a twelve year old, his mind was tired. He let the rain fall on his face as he looked back towards the moon.

"You truly are beautiful aren't you…" Those were the last words Malik muttered before the warm embrace of sleep took him.