The house was about the size of a street vendor’s shop, but instead of being made out of quality wood, the walls were composed of metal scraps, there was no flooring, and it stank of alcohol. The roof was made of a combination of wood, scraps, and other materials.
As Noah walked in, there were around a dozen empty alcohol bottles piled up on the floor. With clothing scattered everywhere on the ground.
On the upper left side of the room was a splintered wooden framed bed with a flimsy torn sheet above it, and at the room's center was a short damaged circular table.
Seated in the opposite corner of the room whilst holding a half-empty bottle was Dorothy, Noah’s mother, who had long purple hair that flowed down to her waist, black eyes, scarlet red lips, and was described as a beauty by others.
With an intoxicated yet furious expression on her face, her dead eyes latched onto Noah’s. In an authoritative and icy tone, she asked, “Oi, Noah did you bring any food back?”
Noah replied as calmly and respectfully as he could, hoping not to evoke any harsh reaction from her. “No mother, I didn’t.”
The icy voice had quickly become ferocious, almost akin to a monster’s shriek. “You!” she let out a sigh, “I should’ve never adopted you. I should’ve adopted someone more capable than you. Someone who could help me get out of my situation. If it weren’t for the money given to widows who had children, I would’ve left you on the streets to die.”
When Noah heard this, he knew he had to reply joyfully in order to appease her pride. "Thank you, mother," Noah said, clenching his teeth and forcing a grin, both hands behind his back, tightening his fists, fingernails digging crescents into his palm till they bled just to stroke her ego even more.
“Hmph! Just get out, and find some food to eat”
Noah nodded his head in reply to what she said. Expecting the outcome from the moment he arrived.
Dorothy just noticing the bruises on Noah’s body asked, “Also what hap- “
Noah thought – Is it another insult…? Or is she trying to act concerned? No, it’s impossible, she’s always drunk or something when she does.
“Argh!” Dorothy's hands went to her head as if she was suffering from a headache. “Never mind, just go,” she said as she finished the bottle of beer in her left hand.
The moment Noah walked out of the door tears began to flow down.
Noah questioned himself, “Huh? Why am I crying?” He brushed away his tears. “This isn't the first time something like this has happened… so why?”
Noah ate his loaf in the hopes of cheering himself up, as he hurried to a dumpster that usually had leftovers remaining. He ignored his discomfort from his injuries, which didn't help as it left his clothes soaked in a red liquid, and limbs having bruise marks.
Right in the heart of the capital city of Mort dun, an alley that is bordered by restaurants. Its bins were regularly brimming with leftover cooked food or unfinished meals throughout the day.
When Noah arrived, he was taken aback and agitated when he saw the dumpster was cleaned out and there were no leftovers left.
Noah was in a state of panic and contemplated what he would do next. Why? Why is there no more food? It’s also getting close to midnight, and I need to get back… but will she let me in? No, I need to find her something to eat… but where…? Wait, the red-light district could still have some leftovers… but...
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Noah clutched his thigh and bit his lip. He rushed to the left side of the city, which was also known as the red-light district. Famous for meet-ups of highly-important people.
When Noah stood in front of the entrance of the red-light district, he was surprised by what he saw.
The moon glistened like gold, casting shadows upon people who stood before it. There was a 20-foot-long white-painted arch that adorned the entranceway, having a banner at its crown that read,
‘Welcome to the Red-light district’.
As Noah stood there, he felt a quick shiver down his spine, which was followed by droplets of sweat trickling down his cheeks out of fear and a strange feeling of anxiety. The people who were about to enter stood to the side and created a path for someone to pass through.
Noah moved his sight to the newly formed path, and what he saw were two emaciated male slaves who appeared as if they hadn't eaten in days. They wore collars around their necks and had a long chain that linked to them.
Following the two slaves was a man wearing a gray flat cap and holding the chains with his left hand; his stance and demeanor were reminiscent of a man strolling out with two dogs.
As they got closer to Noah, the feeling of fear and the odd anxiety he felt before grew stronger.
Noah tried to find out what this feeling was, asking himself – What exactly is this? It feels heavy…, no it feels poisonous.
With each breath Noah drew, he felt a scorching feeling in his lungs that grew stronger by the second.
"Help m-me," one of the slaves cried out as loudly as he could, his voice waning near the end, and tears streaming down his face, as he begged for his life.
The man behind the two slaves came to a halt and yanked the chain back. He made a wide grin that could be seen beneath his cap. Grabbing the face of the slave, he slowly tightened the grip on him as he muttered by the slave’s ears, "Why are you so rowdy late at night?”
Screams of agony combined with pleads could be heard from the slave, “Ahh! I’m sorry! Please forgive me…!” But the bystanders could only stand there and watch, afraid that they might be subjected to the same treatment if they intervene.
Not long after though, his radical breathing stopped, and red liquid began to trickle down from the areas with which the man's finger made contact.
He eventually dropped the slave to the ground, and his head was riddled with dents and bruises that altered his entire appearance.
Looking down to the ground, the man coldly added, “Sigh… will it take death for you to stay quiet? I know you guys don’t like being slaves or anything of the sort, but if you still try to resist any further, even I wouldn’t what I’d do to you, slave number two. So, if you don’t mind, please don’t push your limits.”
Noah was sickened and frightened by what he witnessed, speculating – Why did he do that... he just killed him for being too 'rowdy'?
The man then turned his head slowly facing all the bystanders who were there watching the event occur. When he got to Noah, Noah’s fight or flight instinct had kicked in, running past the man and entering the red-light district.