The sun broke through the clouds, shining on an apartment building in the ghetto area of Libertà city. The sound of kids tossing a ball in the background, and the smell of roadside snacks were quickly hushed by the sound of organised footsteps.
The children on the streets all scrammed, leaving behind their tattered, worn-out ball. The footsteps got louder, as the men striding together in black uniforms increased their pace.
Suddenly, one of the footsteps exited the group, and marched towards one of the side shops, selling roadside food. The shopowner was an old man, with a stick. He had dark shades on, which suggested that he was either blind or his eyes reacted poorly to sunlight.
As the footsteps ceased in front of the shop, the man's hands came out of his pockets and proceeded to slowly take a feel of the wooden kiosk. Before the shop keeper could react, a long leg kicked the wooden countertop of his stall, cracking it open.
The man with the long legs disposed of all that the old man was selling, making sure nothing was left in tact. When he had had enough, he took the shades the old man had on him, as the old man shook in fury, hot tears in his eyes.
"Compensation Tax to the government of Libertà." The man with the long legs said in a smug, almost maniacal tone. He tucked the shades in his breast pocket and joined the group.
"Bloody bastards!" A young, angry man yelled from the shadows, charging towards the group holding a metal bat, ready to take a swing and have the bastard's blood all over the street.
In a flash, the bat whacked the back of the man with the long legs head, causing his face to distortedly to the side. Everyone shivered in horror as they heard the horrendous sound of shifting bone.
'The bastard didn't even fall, shit, am dead.' The young rebel thought to himself, his grip on the bat loosening. He took some nervous steps back, his eyes frantically scanning his environment for help, but everybody was too petrified to do a damned thing.
*Whack*
A bunched up fist landed on his left eye, blinding him as a swift kick simultaneously followed, which sent him crashing down and falling flat on his face.
"Arrghh!" He groaned out in pain, his hands covering his bloody eye, while the men in uniform repeatedly kicked his abdomen, which caused him to cough out blood.
Children cowered behind their mothers in fear, their little hearts beating wildly, as they watched the young rebel get beaten. The men decided there and then to lay waste to his life, so that his death would serve as a warning to other people who may decide to speak against or dare assault a Libertà government official.
They raised his him, making him sit on his knees. The one whom he had assualted took the bat which was lying at his feet. He raised the bat over his head and whacked the young man's head repeatedly; his eyes blazing with evil madness, till the rebel's eyes flashed white, and his nose was oozed blood down to the parting on his upper lips.
"Stop!" A light toned voice screeched from a distance. The man with the bat in his hand paused immediately and raised his head to look at the source of opposition.
His lips curved into a sardonic smile once his icy glare landed on a woman with short blonde hair. He tossed the bat aside and adjusted his collar, while he strode towards her. The rest followed, leaving their victim to cough up his own blood on the streets, helpless and hopeless.
The young woman had a look of irritation on her face, whilst she stood there waiting for the men to make their way towards her. Their real mission.
"Why do you derive sick pleasure from hitting innocent people?" The blonde woman asked, with a poker face, her hard, unwavering eyes never for once leaving that of the man who stood in front of her.
As she stood there staring at the cruel man dead in the eyes, she could have sworn that she saw a flash of black. His eyes had turned wholly black for a split second.
"Lifetime tax collection time, you owe the government approximately a thousand and five hundred dollars." The man announced, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion whatsoever.
"What? That's impossible. It's usually a thousand two hundred dollars. How did it rise so fast overnight?" The blond woman challenged.
"There has been an increase geared towards bettering the city's infrastructure. As a law abiding citizen, you must pay your tax." The man pressed, his lips curved sardonically.
"City's infrastructure? Does this looked improved to you!?" The blonde woman spat out as she gestured to her surroundings, which was clothed with obvious underdevelopment.
"You brought this on yourself by refusing to succumb to the laws of the city. You have only two options now; either you pay us the money, or you face the consequences." The official replied coldly. The blonde woman sighed wearily at this, as the people around watched from the shadows.
"I'll pay and replenish. Just promise me one thing okay? Don't hit others when you come here looking for me." The smiling blonde woman said, bringing out the debt she had initially carried with her.
"Is this some kind of joke? Where's the rest of the money? Do you not want to avoid trouble?" The man asked, slowly wiping the blood from the side of his face.
"City rules state that at least a week's notice of tax increase should be served before the new amount can be issued or payed. So you all will just have to wait untill next week. I may be poor but I know my rights." The blonde woman spoke confidently, with a smirk on her face.
But almost immediately her smile faded, and her face contorted into an expression of pain, as she arched her lower back, and held her gut which had just received a solid kick. The man lowered himself to whisper into her ears.
"Remember your place. We will be back by next week to collect the rest of the Lifetime tax. This is your final warning." Then he took her chin in his index finger and thumb, bringing her face closer to his.
"Am I clear Karla Anderson?" The man asked, his eyes drilling holes into her skull. She stared back at him, her lower lip twitching due to the pain she was feeling in her gut.
She looked away, avoiding his penetrating gaze, not wanting to give him the pleasure of seeing her in such a weak state.
"That goes for the rest of you living here. These two are living examples of how much suffering you will endure if you dare act against the government. This serves as a warning to any of you hiding any of them in your midst. You will pay the heaviest of prices." The man announced.
His squad followed behind, as he strode away from the slums, their synchronizing footsteps elevating the level of fear and anxiety in the area.
Once the men were out of sight, the people slowly came out of the darkness, gathering what was left of the old man's shop. The old man's eyes were badly reacting to the sunlight, so he curled himself into a ball on the dirt, shielding his eyes with his hands.
"He's beaten up pretty badly."
"He might not survive this." The sound of murmurings and chattering filtered the air, as onlookers watched how the young rebel gasped for air on the dirt, like he was nothing but cattle.
Karla made her way past the spectators, and helped him up, letting him rest on her shoulders for support.
"If you're all going to be fucking jackasses then do that somewhere else you shitheads!" Karla spat at them.
Glaring at the people who stood by as she helped to get the rebel away from the scorching sun to her house, which was just right around the corner.
She dragged him through the sand and dirt, panting for air as well, her insides were swelling rather badly. The man was barely breathing, he mumbled something under his breath, shit that made no sense to Karla.
Once they were in front of her house, Karla kicked open the door, knowing fully well that no one would open it up for her. She lumbered in with the lifeless man, and laid him on the couch.
"You'll be fine okay? I got ya." She said under her breath. She shut the door behind her, and closed the windows. Next, Karla crouched down, knocking on the worn out wooden floors, till she found the right one. She gently lifted the loose board.
"Just drink this okay? I'll go get you something to help with that swelling. I think I should have an ice pack." Karla said to the groaning man, giving the him a small bottled tonic to drink out of.
She pushed it against his lips, and helped him to drink it till it was empty. She opened her fridge to find it empty except for a frozen steak.
"Lucky bitch. You can use it, I'll wait my turn." She said while placing the steak on his forehead.
Karla rested against a wall, staring at her rebel of a best friend who just got his ass whopped for trying to help some old guy he probably didn't know well. Just one thought could escape her mind, as she managed with the pain in her stomach.
"What in the hell ever happened to chivalry?." She asked aloud, voicing her thoughts.