"You look hungry, sir!"
"A tin for a rat!"
"Take your pick!
"A bottle for a blanket!"
"At that price?! You must be joking!"
The chorus of dealers and shoppers went on, a typhoon of noise in the depths of the market. On both sides of the widened street, there were people opening windows and doors for business, tables wheeled out into the plaza filled with nick knacks as well as piled essentials.
People could barely walk around without getting caught into the loudness of a crowd; there was barely a smile in sight, everyone trying to find men willing to buy and sell, trading and desperately dealing the goods they had.
In this, Ryan was thrown into, walking only in Leah's guiding shadow; both of them weaved through the crowds, sometimes pushing their way around the claustrophobia that boxed them in.
He could barely follow behind and felt his breaths become much more shallow and squeezed. Before they were consumed, she clutched onto his hand as a viper would on a fresh meal. He held onto her hand tighter, and she tethered him with her voice.
It didn't take long before she was lost among a sea of faces and he was just following false friends, forcing their hands to part, getting pushed and shoved in all directions but the one that he was trying to go in.
Falling over wasn't an option. Anyone who had didn't survive long to talk about it - the plaza was a death trap for anyone with legs too weak.
The madness obstructed everything he tried in his attempts to escape, he felt hot and sweat was already soaking his body in nervousness and exhaustion. Staying still couldn't be done, nothing could be seen.
"Leah!" he cried before getting smothered among the others. "Where are you?!"
"Take his scarf! Anything, please!"
"Give me your hair-!"
"My ring! It's diamond, I swear!"
"He can work. I promise that he can work!"
Ryan turned to the sound of that voice in particular. The eye of the storm. A woman in the far end of the torrent of people was holding a strong piece of leather in one hand and was strongly arguing with the man before her.
In a flash of movement and darkened colour, she was gone again and he could only hear her voice echo through his ears.
"The kid's too scrawny, look at him."
"Nah way. He's too young for the mines."
"But he's young enough! He'll learn, please!"
"We can't take him, we told you, now move along!"
"Just take him! Take him for a sack, half if you want!"
"That's barely anything."
"It'll feed us a few days more, won't it?"
"Yeah but-"
"Just put him to work, will you!? I'll take anything."
"Half a bag."
"A bag?"
"Right, that's it, next!"
"No!" The crowd parted and the woman was there again, at the end of the leather leash sat a boy.
His eyes damp with excessive crying and begging and his neck red raw with her tugging and pulling, scratching at the end of her dress for some attention.
But Ryan didn't see the blond hair and blue eyes, he didn't look at the face. He saw Alan. He saw him in the flesh and bone, his eyes wet with weeping and panic, being tugged on a string like some... animal.
Nobody did that. He had to protect him, that was his responsibility. His heart began to thud. The drumming in his chest the calling of war that he gladly answered.
He crushed his hand into a firm fist, feeling adrenaline pump in his veins, his breaths becoming faster, his sight brightened, but darkened. The sheer anger and hate for that woman and the disgust that he felt could not be described - for this was the fury of brotherhood. And it wasn't stopped by any force.
Ryan forced his way through the crowd, shoving anybody who got into his way. Breaking through the ocean with a hate and guardianship that caused many to die by its hand. He didn't care who fell down to the ground, he began to run and arrived quickly to the trade, his breaths heavy and lungs burning.
He hadn't run that far.
He saw the kid and the mother turning him over to the slave owner, the leash being passed on with no reluctance, with petty greed. Alan was crying for him. And his anger couldn't be stopped, and he made no attempt to stop it.
The slaver put money into the woman's clawing paws, taking the boy's leather leash and tugging it. The boy cried out and that was the final spark needed to ignite his flame.
"LET HIM GO!"
All turned to stare at the mad boy, who ran through the parted crowd, snatching the leash from their fingertips.
"Kid, what the hell do you think you're doing--?!" He smacked the slaver clean in the face.
The fully grown man fell down uselessly at his feet and he didn't care how much it hurt his knuckles, he didn't care about anything else, especially the thoughts of the monsters around him. He bent down close to the child, releasing the leash from his neck, the deep cuts and scars that bled out angering him further.
He turned to the mother and started to approach her, with only one terrible sin on his mind.
"N-Now keep away..!" she said shakily. "Get awa-away!"
"Hey."
It was Leah. She was calm. Consise. She had seen the madness ensue from afar. Now she was going to stop it.
"She was going to sell him."
"Listen to my voice, okay? You have to fight it."
He didn't understand. "He's just a kid. Alan. He's my brother."
"Calm down."
"I can't let her get away with this."
"Stop. Please. Just stop it, Ryan. Killing her won't do any good and you know it."
The name made him pause. This wasn't who he was. What was he doing?
"You!"
Leah went pale at the sight of the approaching men in dirtied coats and the familiar red patch on their arms, quickly grabbing Ryan's arm. "Let's go."
Ryan backed off a little. He saw the fear in the woman's eyes, the utter ferociousness of the slave dealer, cradling his red nose in his hands. He felt the stranger's fresh blood on his hands, and his own leaking through his bitten wrist.
The boy was staring - his brother now gone, a small black haired child crouched in his place, cowering against him. He stared at everything, not comprehending what was happening to him. He backed away. Frightened of himself. Of what he might do next. What had he done?
What had he done...?
****
Ryan allowed her to drag him through the maze of the city, she knew it better than he and he felt the breath of the others behind him. They were strong and large with a hell of a lot of scars dug deep into their flesh; guys that he wouldn't like to mess with.
He saw their skin that had rivers of black veiny death hidden beneath, nightmarish creatures which glowered their eyes that shone unnatural colours. These were not men that he saw, these were monsters, deadly hideous beings that would rip him to shreds and eat the pieces in small heartbeats.
He wanted to scream but his throat was hot and dry, his body shivering as he forced his legs to jerk in front of each other, keeping up with Leah ahead.
She sprinted through the ally, whipping her head back to see the two men chasing after them and Ryan stumbling behind her, lungs were burning and her legs were already beginning to ache. Leah didn't know how long they would be able to keep this up. "Come on!" she urged.
Ryan's vision was blurring, the monsters clawing at his skin behind them with their gigantic talons. Breathing was a strain, running was becoming impossible. But his will was strong - he was using the wall to support each and every step that he took. Sweat was dripping down and blinding his eyes, his limbs shivering and shaking. What was happening? What... what was--?
A thud at her feet caused her to hesitate, but she didn't dare stop. "Next exit, this way!"
There was no answer.
She turned back on her heels: "Ryan..?"
He was on the ground, fallen face-first into the pavement, smacking his face. He wasn't moving, he hadn't just tripped over, he was unconscious. How could be unconscious?! They were just feet away from him and she could hear them coming closer.
She swore, not enough time to pick him up and not enough to hide him away somewhere. She reached into her bag, it was just a bat she found, she'd worked on it the night before, managing to stick a few nails into it and some more sharp metals.
Not something she would prefer to use so soon, but it would have to do.
Leah flipped him over. Yeah, he was gone. There wasn't much chance that he would wake up anytime soon and she didn't bother trying. He had a pulse, though. And for that much, she was grateful.
She held it in her hand tightly as she stepped over his body, willing to protect him; that was, at least, what she owed him. She tried to swallow any fear that remained.
The first came around the corner without any warning or defence; but she was ready enough to smack him hard across the chin. Her hit was hard and he shouted out in pain for only a brief second before falling, blood pooling from his chin; the second had more time to prepare, a sword appearing in his grasp.
The rusted blade winked in the light, the guard smiling widely as he got a proper look at her face, recognising her once and for all. They stood apart, looking at each other in the tightened space, a body at her back and one in front.
"Well you're a catch, aren't ya?"
She stared daggers into him, but caught up with her breath just so she could kick the shit out of him.
"Leah, is it?"
"Fuck off."
"Yeah?" He said, daring to approach closer, dangerous in his stance, a hiss in his voice. "Make me."
Leah kept his gaze right on her long enough for one of her more backhanded moves. The bat was lowered in such a way so that it was close enough for her to smack the metal hard into the softer flesh in his exposed crutch, nails digging right in there.
The strike was hard, making him scream loudly and buckle over his legs and roll around away from the scene, swiping his sword in such inaccuracy that she easily stepped away from it.
He was grounded but that wasn't enough for her - she tightened her grip on the bat, smashing a large dent into the back of his skull. Metal pieces sticking into the bone of his skull.
There was blood, it leaked from somewhere but she couldn't bring herself to look anymore. Bile in her throat at the fresh-corpse smell. Stones in her stomach and head.
Quickly she grabbed Ryan's heavy frame, dragging him away to somewhere where at least she could clear him up a little. His legs dragged behind, but she managed to carry them both - taking several breaks while muttering several curses under her breath.
The bodies remained in the alley. And they wouldn't be buried.
****
Ryan was standing in the apartment, looking into a mirror. At his reflection. He looked cleaner now, better dressed and with a brightness behind his eyes that came with food.
The deathly whiteness in the pupil was gone. He turned to look for Alan, he too looked better. With some actually clean jeans and a tank top. He looked like a little boy - he looked happy.
But there was something wrong.
When he called his name, the boy did not stir or wake. He didn't even look as though he were breathing. He was just lying on his bed, sleeping soundly. Ryan could see his chest move, and he screamed his name but no reply or reaction came from the child. He was behind some invisible cell that he could not smell nor taste nor touch.
A wall that kept him from what he loved.
His eyes were now streaming with effort as he kept trying, moments from giving up. His voice hoarse. But in the distance he saw somebody approaching him. No - something.
He wanted to run and protect Alan, giving the life he had for his younger brother but he couldn't move, his legs didn't do as he commanded. He screamed louder, ordering and swearing at him with such fury that he wished the figure would run in fear.
It had no fear.
No mercy.
No face.
****
Consciousness came rarely. When he was bestowed with it, he could only see a single faint shadow. He thought once or twice that it was Alan. But the slim, slender figure and flattened breasts proved him otherwise, faces were harder to determine. She had... concern always on her face. Dabbing something wet and cool on his brow. It was soothing.
He could hear her... Hear her voice. Not the words, never as much as that - but just the tone was enough. He wasn't aware of much around him, delirious mutterings mutilating any words that might have edged across his mouth. Just her voice. The cloth. And the nightmares.
The endless nightmares.
Sometimes he was in the apartment again with Alan. Other times he was with Leah, watching as she cried or shouted at him for being such an idiot. His mother. His father. When his family came only guilt consumed him. It was his birthday days ago, he was turning nine and he wasn't there with him. Like he promised.
The faded voices and dreams molded together. It was all around him. Time did not exist. Greyness was everywhere and everything as if nothing else existed.
His whole world a colourless façade.