Setting
Class 3, or the slums of Trinity. No one wants to be here. People lose everything and come here to die. No one crosses over into other classes. If they do they pay the price.
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
"Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but yours is stupid," said a breathy voice. Pale emerald eyes flicked upwards to stare at the dreadful skyline of Class two and the sun that pierced through the clouds, cheerful and carefree. Which idiot gave the sun permission to shine? Obviously not her. It was a cruel joke, how everything outside of the lowest class was so sickly beautiful - it made her want to tear the stars down and replace them with paper cut-outs. After all, wasn't that all of what they were? Pawns and in the case of the poor, outdated toys in a perverted game.
"You need to work on your charm," replied the raspy voice of her fellow gang member, Caius. Juliette scowled, dragging her gaze back down to Trinity. They'd been discussing the stupidity levels of the les démons - the Class two's and three's. Caius had rated them a nine but no, they were a solid ten and a hundred. "Honestly, la belle." Beautiful one. "You're much lovelier when you smile," Caius continued. That was a load of unicorn crap, he'd never seen her smile. No one had. Why would she when they likelihoods of her dying by the age of 25 was closer to Really, freakin' likely than it was to No, why would you? Ha. Ha. Ha.
She was really optimistic.
"We've found it!" squealed the feminine voice of a male.
"Found what? Your manhood? Please, tell me more, tell me more. Does it have a car?" Juliette sang drily, her voice painfully lovely even when laced with sarcasm.
"No," said the new arrival curtly, rolling his large baby blue eyes. "We've found the warehouse where they keep some of the food for Class two." Some of the food was always more than enough for those of the lowest class; les démons ate a lot.
"How? Where is it?" Caius asked excitedly.
"It's in the outskirts of Class three. I guess they were too good for ugly-looking warehouses," the boy said with a shrug. "Anyway, we're taking it."
"When?" Caius asked.
"Now," the blue-eyed boy said cheerfully. As if to emphasise his point, the loud boom of a gunshot smacked against the air, beating down a flutter of frightened citizens. "Looks like the fun's started." He turned on his heel and darted towards the sound, zig-zagging across alleys and dodging squealing, starving bodies. Juliette followed, with Caius just behind. Gripping the edge of a window, she lifted herself up and swung her body onto the roof. Her worn boots slapped against the flimsy tin roofs as she ran next to and above her gang. As she ran, she pulled a gun from her thigh sheath, ejecting the magazine. Running as she pulled a handful of bullets from her back pocket, she slipped them into the magazine and clicked everything back in place. She gripped the gun to her chest and dropped soundlessly onto the ground, bending her knees to lessen the impact. She could see her gang, the Crimsons, up ahead, their bodies pressed against the warehouse, clutching weapons of all sorts. She felt no remorse for what she was to do - class two did not need any of this, they had more than enough.
"Keenan, Jose and Illio are inside. The guards rain bullets the moment we try to step in," whispered a short-haired girl as Juliette ran to stand next to her.
"Going in," Juliette said shortly. Ignoring the desperate hisses of her Crimsons, Juliette slipped into the building. As warned, it rained bullets. Juliette slid behind a large containment box, dropping to the ground as the guns stilled in their firing. She grinned inwardly, realising they did not wish to harm the contents of the building - great. Quickly popping her arms out from behind the safety of the box, Juliette fired once. There was a grunt as a large form crumbled onto the floor. The man would live, it was only his shoulder. Lucky for her, these guards looked to be real softies.
"Hey," said a voice. Juliette flinched - her version of jumping in surprise - and flicked her eyes over to the blonde Keenan. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way - Juliette had no love for beauty and distrusted Keenan more than anyone else in the gang. It was not unfound, he truly was a polygamous rascal. Juliette raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and made some rapid hand gestures.
"They slipped out the back. It's just you and me, my dearest la belle," he said with that annoying lopsided smile of his. What did anyone see in him?
Slipping a part of her body out, Juliette fired her gun - it was long outdated but it worked. Two more men crumbled to the floor but Juliette was jerked back by the bullet of a third. She quickly slid behind the container, pressing her palm against the flow of blood above her right breast. Wow, that hurt.
"Are you okay?" Keenan asked.
No, it's not like I was almost shot in the boob or anything. Naw, all this blood indicates my wellbeing.
Twenty long, long minutes later, Crimson was carrying loads of food back to their headquarters to later share with everyone in class three. Juliette winced as she pressed her palm against her still bleeding wound. The whining of sirens was growing near but they had to take back as much as they could. No one sent free food down to class three, you either found it, stole it, made it or died. The sirens grew closer.
They were in so much trouble.
"You need to work on your charm," replied the raspy voice of her fellow gang member, Caius. Juliette scowled, dragging her gaze back down to Trinity. They'd been discussing the stupidity levels of the les démons - the Class two's and three's. Caius had rated them a nine but no, they were a solid ten and a hundred. "Honestly, la belle." Beautiful one. "You're much lovelier when you smile," Caius continued. That was a load of unicorn crap, he'd never seen her smile. No one had. Why would she when they likelihoods of her dying by the age of 25 was closer to Really, freakin' likely than it was to No, why would you? Ha. Ha. Ha.
She was really optimistic.
"We've found it!" squealed the feminine voice of a male.
"Found what? Your manhood? Please, tell me more, tell me more. Does it have a car?" Juliette sang drily, her voice painfully lovely even when laced with sarcasm.
"No," said the new arrival curtly, rolling his large baby blue eyes. "We've found the warehouse where they keep some of the food for Class two." Some of the food was always more than enough for those of the lowest class; les démons ate a lot.
"How? Where is it?" Caius asked excitedly.
"It's in the outskirts of Class three. I guess they were too good for ugly-looking warehouses," the boy said with a shrug. "Anyway, we're taking it."
"When?" Caius asked.
"Now," the blue-eyed boy said cheerfully. As if to emphasise his point, the loud boom of a gunshot smacked against the air, beating down a flutter of frightened citizens. "Looks like the fun's started." He turned on his heel and darted towards the sound, zig-zagging across alleys and dodging squealing, starving bodies. Juliette followed, with Caius just behind. Gripping the edge of a window, she lifted herself up and swung her body onto the roof. Her worn boots slapped against the flimsy tin roofs as she ran next to and above her gang. As she ran, she pulled a gun from her thigh sheath, ejecting the magazine. Running as she pulled a handful of bullets from her back pocket, she slipped them into the magazine and clicked everything back in place. She gripped the gun to her chest and dropped soundlessly onto the ground, bending her knees to lessen the impact. She could see her gang, the Crimsons, up ahead, their bodies pressed against the warehouse, clutching weapons of all sorts. She felt no remorse for what she was to do - class two did not need any of this, they had more than enough.
"Keenan, Jose and Illio are inside. The guards rain bullets the moment we try to step in," whispered a short-haired girl as Juliette ran to stand next to her.
"Going in," Juliette said shortly. Ignoring the desperate hisses of her Crimsons, Juliette slipped into the building. As warned, it rained bullets. Juliette slid behind a large containment box, dropping to the ground as the guns stilled in their firing. She grinned inwardly, realising they did not wish to harm the contents of the building - great. Quickly popping her arms out from behind the safety of the box, Juliette fired once. There was a grunt as a large form crumbled onto the floor. The man would live, it was only his shoulder. Lucky for her, these guards looked to be real softies.
"Hey," said a voice. Juliette flinched - her version of jumping in surprise - and flicked her eyes over to the blonde Keenan. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way - Juliette had no love for beauty and distrusted Keenan more than anyone else in the gang. It was not unfound, he truly was a polygamous rascal. Juliette raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and made some rapid hand gestures.
"They slipped out the back. It's just you and me, my dearest la belle," he said with that annoying lopsided smile of his. What did anyone see in him?
Slipping a part of her body out, Juliette fired her gun - it was long outdated but it worked. Two more men crumbled to the floor but Juliette was jerked back by the bullet of a third. She quickly slid behind the container, pressing her palm against the flow of blood above her right breast. Wow, that hurt.
"Are you okay?" Keenan asked.
No, it's not like I was almost shot in the boob or anything. Naw, all this blood indicates my wellbeing.
Twenty long, long minutes later, Crimson was carrying loads of food back to their headquarters to later share with everyone in class three. Juliette winced as she pressed her palm against her still bleeding wound. The whining of sirens was growing near but they had to take back as much as they could. No one sent free food down to class three, you either found it, stole it, made it or died. The sirens grew closer.
They were in so much trouble.
Not many people in the slums liked rain. It only caused nuisance; roofs would leak, the drainage overflow, the roads became muddy and so on. However, Selena always enjoyed the rain. The cool water always felt like a shower to her, one that washed away the troubles on her mind. But today, it was even too much for a rain loving person like her. The rain, or better said waterfall, was coming down like no tomorrow and it seemed like it was not going to stop any time soon.
Mindlessly Selena stared out of the window, the only one in their house, her back leaning against Jaden hisâ. They only lived on the second floor, but the rain made everything outside seem like a giant grey blur, the streets looked even gloomier than usual and it was barely possible to distinct the people from the road. It was still early in the morning and the rain stopped her from wanting to go outside, but staying inside wasnât a pleasure either. The enormous amounts of water were making a hell of a noise as it fell on their inelaborate roof made of corrugated iron.
A moan escaped her mouth, âI canât take it anymore Jay. I gotta do something! Just sitting here is killing me.â Jaden wrapped an arm around her, forcing her to stay put. âChill sis, canât you just do nothing for once. Perhaps go knit a sweater or a scarf, something I can sell for the winter.â Selena just growled, in which Jaden responded with a chuckle. He knew darn well how much she hated knitting, her one and only creation was haunting her forever. In a sweet mood Selena once wanted to knit her little brother a sweater. Besides some holes and inconsistent knit work, she realized afterwards that she had switched the place of the sleeve and the opening for the head. Never would she waste that much time again. Every now and then he would wear the thing at home, teasing her by swinging around his âtailâ (sleeve). Her mom on the other hand was pretty turned into a machine if you gave her some yarn and needles. However, simple materials as wool were only still used in the slums.
After messing around for another hour, it really was time for her to get out. It seemed like the rain had lessened a bit, but more likely they had just gotten used to the noise. âMom, Jay, Iâm going out. You guys do something useful too when it gets dry, will ya!â With that she left the two of them and walked down the stairs. Before she headed outside, Selena took off her hoodie and ripped jeans putting the garments in a plastic bag. In her boxers and shirt she went out, people probably wouldnât even notice in this rain. Plus, sheâd rather have dry clothes at her destination than walking around soaked outside.
Two weeks ago sheâd found a job at the one of the few cafĂ© / bars around. There werenât as many as in the other parts of Trinity, but even in the slums people could scrape enough together for junk as alcohol, smokes and drugs. Although they are mostly filled with the ones who had a âdecent jobâ. As for her job, it was pure luck as she just happened to be around when one of the employees got fired. The young lad had gotten into a fight with a corrupted cop, who had been extorting him and his family.
The rain felt cool, but heavy on her body. Selena pretty much had to fight her way to the bar. Once she made it to the building, she stumbled inside like a drowned cat. Her hair was all messy and the little clothes she was wearing were dripping wet. She was looking ridiculous. âWell, good morning..,â the owner squinted her eyes for a moment and then bursted out in laughter. â..Ah! Lin! Didnât recognize you.â The two customers were also staring as if she was crazy, but once she was wearing her dry clothes Selena felt pretty good about herself.
âMorning Jenny, I was hoping I could do an extra morning shift. Figured there might be more customers than usual, sheltering for the waterfall.â Upon entering sheâd already seen there were only two people and she shrugged, âBut I thought wrong.â Jenny was a nice woman, but she simply couldnât afford more staff than needed and Selena knew it. âJust stay sweety, thereâs nothing you can do in the rain anyways. Here, have a cup.â Finally giving in to the horrid weather, she climbed onto one of the many free barstools. Within a moment, Jenny served her a cup of steamy hot honey tea. Thankfully she accepted the treat and wrapped her hands around the cup and enjoyed the soft music in the background.
Mindlessly Selena stared out of the window, the only one in their house, her back leaning against Jaden hisâ. They only lived on the second floor, but the rain made everything outside seem like a giant grey blur, the streets looked even gloomier than usual and it was barely possible to distinct the people from the road. It was still early in the morning and the rain stopped her from wanting to go outside, but staying inside wasnât a pleasure either. The enormous amounts of water were making a hell of a noise as it fell on their inelaborate roof made of corrugated iron.
A moan escaped her mouth, âI canât take it anymore Jay. I gotta do something! Just sitting here is killing me.â Jaden wrapped an arm around her, forcing her to stay put. âChill sis, canât you just do nothing for once. Perhaps go knit a sweater or a scarf, something I can sell for the winter.â Selena just growled, in which Jaden responded with a chuckle. He knew darn well how much she hated knitting, her one and only creation was haunting her forever. In a sweet mood Selena once wanted to knit her little brother a sweater. Besides some holes and inconsistent knit work, she realized afterwards that she had switched the place of the sleeve and the opening for the head. Never would she waste that much time again. Every now and then he would wear the thing at home, teasing her by swinging around his âtailâ (sleeve). Her mom on the other hand was pretty turned into a machine if you gave her some yarn and needles. However, simple materials as wool were only still used in the slums.
After messing around for another hour, it really was time for her to get out. It seemed like the rain had lessened a bit, but more likely they had just gotten used to the noise. âMom, Jay, Iâm going out. You guys do something useful too when it gets dry, will ya!â With that she left the two of them and walked down the stairs. Before she headed outside, Selena took off her hoodie and ripped jeans putting the garments in a plastic bag. In her boxers and shirt she went out, people probably wouldnât even notice in this rain. Plus, sheâd rather have dry clothes at her destination than walking around soaked outside.
Two weeks ago sheâd found a job at the one of the few cafĂ© / bars around. There werenât as many as in the other parts of Trinity, but even in the slums people could scrape enough together for junk as alcohol, smokes and drugs. Although they are mostly filled with the ones who had a âdecent jobâ. As for her job, it was pure luck as she just happened to be around when one of the employees got fired. The young lad had gotten into a fight with a corrupted cop, who had been extorting him and his family.
The rain felt cool, but heavy on her body. Selena pretty much had to fight her way to the bar. Once she made it to the building, she stumbled inside like a drowned cat. Her hair was all messy and the little clothes she was wearing were dripping wet. She was looking ridiculous. âWell, good morning..,â the owner squinted her eyes for a moment and then bursted out in laughter. â..Ah! Lin! Didnât recognize you.â The two customers were also staring as if she was crazy, but once she was wearing her dry clothes Selena felt pretty good about herself.
âMorning Jenny, I was hoping I could do an extra morning shift. Figured there might be more customers than usual, sheltering for the waterfall.â Upon entering sheâd already seen there were only two people and she shrugged, âBut I thought wrong.â Jenny was a nice woman, but she simply couldnât afford more staff than needed and Selena knew it. âJust stay sweety, thereâs nothing you can do in the rain anyways. Here, have a cup.â Finally giving in to the horrid weather, she climbed onto one of the many free barstools. Within a moment, Jenny served her a cup of steamy hot honey tea. Thankfully she accepted the treat and wrapped her hands around the cup and enjoyed the soft music in the background.
She was having a perfectly great day when the bastard of a detective decided to appear.
Why. Why. Why.
Juliette crossed her arms gruffly over her chest, narrowing her eyes and exhaling through her teeth. A fog appeared before her lips, evaporating into the chilling night air. Juliette suddenly felt uncomfortable in her scantily clad skin. No, she was always uncomfortable, even if she wasn't scantily clad. She shuffled from one heeled foot to another, her eyes darting awkwardly from side to side as Adrian appraised her legs. She pressed an ivory skinned thumb against her crimson lips, staring pointedly at a pile of homeless. Go away, go away, go away.
âHave you heard any rumors about a missing Class 1 girl being held somewhere in Class 3?â
Emerald eyes flicked upwards, burning through Adrian's dark orbs. "No." She pursed her lips.
That was a lie, of course. She did know of a girl being held in Class Three but she was annoyed and she was gruff when she was annoyed, and terribly uncooperative. "I didn't need your help," she mumbled. "She's with the Black Bands," she said with a sigh. What did she care about a stupid démon child? Absolutely nothing. But she wasn't overly cruel and she didn't enjoy suffering. The Black Bands were the rivals of the Crimsons, after all. Well, everyone was the rival of the Crimsons. Nobody liked them and they didn't like anyone. Their abundance of soldier-like, secret services trained gang members didn't help their popularity either. She was in charge of all outside operations: the raids, kills, captures. Anything related to combat, really.
"If anything happens to me, you're their new alpha," the Crimsons' leader had said.
Juliette felt a pang of guilt for not being where she was meant to be but she couldn't give this life up. She couldn't not sell herself. That was a part of her, that was all she was good for. Not to mention the Crimsons were utterly against the abuse of drugs and she needed it. Needed the way they made her forget, disconnected her from herself, from the world.
From the pain.
"I'm not having a drunk and high commander on my battlefield," their leader - Jose - had told her sternly. "You stay clean or you're back on the streets, Jewel."
Sorry, boss, she thought guiltily.
Realising she'd been staring at Adrian the whole time for much too long, Juliette dropped her gaze. "I'm not taking you to them," she said, not too convincingly. She knew where the Black Bands were but she was a code red, they would shoot her on the spot. No, the sadistic crazies wouldn't shoot her. They would tear her apart and break her down first. Juliette flinched at the memory of the man who'd left her for dead, the man the Crimsons had saved her from. Not to mention she'd be calling for a war between the Black Bands and Crimsons. "They're underground," she said slowly, slashing at her arm with her nails. It was another bad habit of hers, her entire existence was a bad habit. "Beneath Roots," she said. Roots was a 'club' of sorts. Well, as good as Class Three clubs got. At least their women were beautiful. Okay, she'd admit she danced and sang there on occasion. But that was all.
"Well, crap seeing you and all that. Bye," she said hastily, turning on her heel. "Oh," she said with a pause, looking over her shoulder at Adrian. "The Black Bands are being paid a fortune to keep her, or so I hear. Good luck getting her back," she said. Then, gazing up at the pale moon, she whispered quietly, "You'll need it."
Juliette walked hastily, knowing she owed Adrian more than she would ever be able to pay back, unless she did this. Unless she embarked on this suicide mission to retrieve some little démon child. She knew she could get into Roots, knew she could request an audience with the Black Bands, knew their leader had offered to buy her off of Crimson's hands, knew he wanted her and still did. But she couldn't, she hated him. He was the one that had broken her to the brink of death and she would've died had Jose not taken her in. She hated him with every fibre of her being and more than that, she feared him. He was the worst of her nightmares, next to her father.
Still, did being born of Class One make this child any more evil than an unlucky child born of Class Three? What were they doing with her? She, unfortunately, could imagine. She'd been in the same predicament - except they didn't need to keep her alive. She wasn't a hostage - she was fun. Dessert. Juliette groaned, hating what she was about to do. She turned around, taking a deep breath and heading towards the detective even when her mind screamed for her to run away. Her heart wasn't listening; neither were her legs, apparently.
She took Adrian's hand in hers and began walking towards the club - the gang's headquarters - without another word. She walked, hating every step, but knowing she'd hate herself more than she already did if she didn't help this child. "After this, I owe you nothing."
After this, I might be dead.
Why. Why. Why.
Juliette crossed her arms gruffly over her chest, narrowing her eyes and exhaling through her teeth. A fog appeared before her lips, evaporating into the chilling night air. Juliette suddenly felt uncomfortable in her scantily clad skin. No, she was always uncomfortable, even if she wasn't scantily clad. She shuffled from one heeled foot to another, her eyes darting awkwardly from side to side as Adrian appraised her legs. She pressed an ivory skinned thumb against her crimson lips, staring pointedly at a pile of homeless. Go away, go away, go away.
âHave you heard any rumors about a missing Class 1 girl being held somewhere in Class 3?â
Emerald eyes flicked upwards, burning through Adrian's dark orbs. "No." She pursed her lips.
That was a lie, of course. She did know of a girl being held in Class Three but she was annoyed and she was gruff when she was annoyed, and terribly uncooperative. "I didn't need your help," she mumbled. "She's with the Black Bands," she said with a sigh. What did she care about a stupid démon child? Absolutely nothing. But she wasn't overly cruel and she didn't enjoy suffering. The Black Bands were the rivals of the Crimsons, after all. Well, everyone was the rival of the Crimsons. Nobody liked them and they didn't like anyone. Their abundance of soldier-like, secret services trained gang members didn't help their popularity either. She was in charge of all outside operations: the raids, kills, captures. Anything related to combat, really.
"If anything happens to me, you're their new alpha," the Crimsons' leader had said.
Juliette felt a pang of guilt for not being where she was meant to be but she couldn't give this life up. She couldn't not sell herself. That was a part of her, that was all she was good for. Not to mention the Crimsons were utterly against the abuse of drugs and she needed it. Needed the way they made her forget, disconnected her from herself, from the world.
From the pain.
"I'm not having a drunk and high commander on my battlefield," their leader - Jose - had told her sternly. "You stay clean or you're back on the streets, Jewel."
Sorry, boss, she thought guiltily.
Realising she'd been staring at Adrian the whole time for much too long, Juliette dropped her gaze. "I'm not taking you to them," she said, not too convincingly. She knew where the Black Bands were but she was a code red, they would shoot her on the spot. No, the sadistic crazies wouldn't shoot her. They would tear her apart and break her down first. Juliette flinched at the memory of the man who'd left her for dead, the man the Crimsons had saved her from. Not to mention she'd be calling for a war between the Black Bands and Crimsons. "They're underground," she said slowly, slashing at her arm with her nails. It was another bad habit of hers, her entire existence was a bad habit. "Beneath Roots," she said. Roots was a 'club' of sorts. Well, as good as Class Three clubs got. At least their women were beautiful. Okay, she'd admit she danced and sang there on occasion. But that was all.
"Well, crap seeing you and all that. Bye," she said hastily, turning on her heel. "Oh," she said with a pause, looking over her shoulder at Adrian. "The Black Bands are being paid a fortune to keep her, or so I hear. Good luck getting her back," she said. Then, gazing up at the pale moon, she whispered quietly, "You'll need it."
Juliette walked hastily, knowing she owed Adrian more than she would ever be able to pay back, unless she did this. Unless she embarked on this suicide mission to retrieve some little démon child. She knew she could get into Roots, knew she could request an audience with the Black Bands, knew their leader had offered to buy her off of Crimson's hands, knew he wanted her and still did. But she couldn't, she hated him. He was the one that had broken her to the brink of death and she would've died had Jose not taken her in. She hated him with every fibre of her being and more than that, she feared him. He was the worst of her nightmares, next to her father.
Still, did being born of Class One make this child any more evil than an unlucky child born of Class Three? What were they doing with her? She, unfortunately, could imagine. She'd been in the same predicament - except they didn't need to keep her alive. She wasn't a hostage - she was fun. Dessert. Juliette groaned, hating what she was about to do. She turned around, taking a deep breath and heading towards the detective even when her mind screamed for her to run away. Her heart wasn't listening; neither were her legs, apparently.
She took Adrian's hand in hers and began walking towards the club - the gang's headquarters - without another word. She walked, hating every step, but knowing she'd hate herself more than she already did if she didn't help this child. "After this, I owe you nothing."
After this, I might be dead.
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