Eis' mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and instincts battling against the searing pain that engulfed his body. The two towering men before him seemed to cast long shadows over his already darkening world. Their hands, each as large as Eis' head, spoke volumes of what they did for a living.
"S'pose we're in a peculiar situation here, eh?" remarked the shorter of the two, his voice dripping with malice, prompting a confused glance from his companion.
"What're you on about, Darel? Weren't we here to rough him up and pawn him off to the slavers?" questioned the other.
"Shut it, you dimwit! Didn't you bother to flip through those books Snake handed us?" Darel snapped back, irritation etched across his features.
"Aye, I did. Some fancy pictures in there," he replied cheerfully.
"Wyll, why do you insist on being such a pointment? The boss tasked us with expanding our knowledge and talking with the merchants. Yet here you are, dragging us down at every turn!" Darel's frustration was palpable.
"You mean 'disappointment'?" Eis couldn't help but interject, finding a brief respite from the pain.
"Ain't that what I said? Look, Wyll, even the rat's got more class than you!" Darel retorted, punctuating his words with a vicious kick to Eis' stomach, sending him hurtling into the air momentarily before gravity mercilessly pulled him back to the ground. As he crashed down, he cursed his own tongue.
"You've got a mouth on you, Darel, but the boss favors me," Wyll boasted, thumping his chest with a meaty fist. "Didn't you hear him last time? Said he ain't never met someone like me before."
Darel couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Oh, I reckon he's right about that," he muttered under his breath. "If there were two of you, the world'd be beggin' for divine intervention."
Ignoring Darel's sarcasm, Wyll continued, his grin undiminished. With a swift movement, he stooped down, seizing Eis by his tattered shirt and hoisting him effortlessly with one hand.
"Come here, rat. We've got business to attend to, and I've worked up quite an appetite already," Wyll declared.
"We got ourselves a new slaver in town," Darel sneered, his grin sending shivers down Eis' spine. "Even with a few days left on your clock, this fella'll work you to the bone. Think of the fun you'll have before you kick the bucket!" His laughter reverberated through the darkness. "Ain't no one messes with us, rat."
Wyll's grip tightened as he began to drag Eis away, his iron hold leaving no room for escape.
"Wait! Hold on!" Eis cried out in desperation, his voice packed with fear. "I have the coin!"
"What now?" Wyll stopped abruptly, turning to regard Eis with suspicion. "How's a rat like you got ten silver coins?"
"Ten? Wasn't it five last time?"
"The Boss said you owed him. You piqued his interest or something like that." Darel corrected himself after a second with a satisfying grin. "He finds you fascinating."
"Fascinating?" Eis echoed with uncertainty. "You mean I owe him interest?" Before Darel could respond with another kick, Eis quickly added, "I have the coin, but... it's a gold piece." Eis hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. "Could you give me the change?"
Greed flickered in the eyes of the two goons, their expressions lighting up with anticipation.
"Of course we will, rat," Darel replied smoothly, his smile widening. "We're an honest bunch, ain't we, Wyll?"
"That's what they call us. The most honest," Wyll chimed in, his voice dripping with false sincerity.
"Fine..." Eis pretended to rummage in his pocket, his hand curling around nothing but air. "It's all I have. Please, don't take everything from me."
"Hand it over, rat." Darel leaned in closer, his curiosity getting the better of him as he peered at Eis' outstretched hand.
Had Darel seen the darkness that consumed Eis' eyes at that moment, he might have recoiled in horror. The boy appeared more like a demon than a mere mortal, his gaze an abyss that seemed to swallow all light.
Eis moved the hidden knife into his hand with a deft flick of his wrist. The blade instantly found its mark, piercing through Darel's eye with a sickening squelch. But Eis didn't halt there; driven by a primal instinct, he continued the assault until the knife plunged deep into Darel's brain, snuffing out his life in a flash.
Wyll's cry of surprise filled the air, a stark contrast to the thud of Darel's body hitting the ground. He swung wildly at Eis, driven by anger.
Eis remained eerily composed, effortlessly sidestepping Wyll's clumsy attack. With swift and precise movements, he darted behind the towering giant, severing the sinews of his legs with two knife swings. This time, Wyll's agonized cry pierced the darkness as he crumpled to the ground, his legs rendered useless.
Ignoring them, Eis delivered several more calculated stabs, targeting vital areas that immobilized the giant further. With chilling efficiency, Eis then pressed his knee onto Wyll's neck, pinning him down, before plunging the knife deep into his carotid artery. Blood began to flow rapidly, forming a small pool under the man's head.
The cries ceased abruptly, swallowed by the night, leaving only the eerie silence of The Belows in their wake. Eis retrieved his knife, wiping it clean on Wyll's clothes with unsettling calmness, before turning and making his way home through the desolate streets.
Even if someone had heard the whole struggle, they didn't show it in any way. The residents of the Belows knew better than to interfere with someone else's business.
Eis' movements were mechanical, like a puppet pulled by invisible strings. Each step felt disconnected from reality, shrouded in a fog of denial. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, a child's voice cried out, words indistinct yet hauntingly familiar. But Eis ignored it. He had heard it many times before.
Despite his delirium, Eis maintained a facade of normalcy, threading through the shadowy alleys of The Belows with practiced ease. Satisfied that he wasn't being pursued, he quickly scaled the corroded gutter, slipping into the sanctuary of his makeshift home. The improvised door creaked shut behind him, sealing him from the outside world.
Beside the cluttered debris that passed for furniture, Eis found solace in the enveloping darkness. It was a familiar companion that offered familiarity from the chaos of his thoughts. The child's voice persisted, a distant echo in the recesses of his mind, but its cries grew fainter with each passing moment.
In the silence of his solitude, Eis grappled with the realization that he had lost a part of himself yet again. It wasn't his innocence, which had been stripped away long ago in the unforgiving streets of The Belows. No, this was something different, something deeper.
This wasn't the first time Eis had experienced this detachment, this dissociation from his own actions. In moments like these, it felt like something else took control, steering him along a path he could only watch from a distance, powerless to intervene.
He was unapologetic about it, for in The Belows, such acts of violence were commonplace, each life extinguished without ceremony or remorse. It was the way of the street. People killed and were killed every day. It wasn't a big deal. Not at all.
'Keep telling yourself these lies if it helps,' a mocking voice echoed in Eis' mind, so painfully familiar that it sent shivers down his spine. It was his own voice, or at least, he thought it was. Was he losing his mind, or was his thoughts running amok? Eis couldn't be sure anymore.
In The Belows, madness was not an uncommon companion. Countless souls had succumbed to its grasp, their sanity slipping away amidst the cruelty of their surroundings.
Perhaps this was how it began, Eis mused, with whispered voices and the gradual erosion of one's sense of reality.
A surprising sensation caught Eis off guard as he brushed his fingertips against his eyes, feeling the unexpected moisture clinging to his skin. It had been a long time since he had shed tears since he had allowed himself to feel such raw emotion.
But tonight was different. Tonight, the weight of his actions pressed heavily upon him, stirring dormant feelings that he had long since buried beneath layers of indifference.
Yet Eis knew he couldn't afford the luxury of remorse, not in The Belows, where weakness was swiftly exploited, and mercy was a luxury afforded only to the dead. He had acted out of self-preservation, driven by the instinct to survive in a world where every moment was a battle for survival.
Eis quickly pushed aside those emotions, reminding himself of the justification for his actions. He had every right to rid the world of such despicable scum, especially those who sought to sell him into slavery. The mere thought sent a chill down his spine.
Turning his attention to the cracked walls of his humble home, Eis' gaze settled on a series of crude markings etched into the surface. He drew his knife and added two more lines to the count. The moonlight cast a spectral glow upon the blade, illuminating his empty expression as he stared at the symbols etched into the wall. His gaze remained fixed on them for a bit.
Some of these markings were the result of his life in The Belows. However, some were not.
With a weary sigh, Eis traced the lines with his fingertips, "Tomorrow is necessary," he muttered, his voice barely audible in the oppressive silence. "Success is our only option."
His words hung in the air, swallowed by the darkness that enveloped him like a shroud. The shadows offered no solace, only a silent vigil over Eis' restless form as he succumbed to sleep. But even in slumber, his mind was besieged by the demons of his past, their haunting whispers echoing through the chambers of his subconscious.
'A wild beast wearing the skin of a boy. How many have you killed, Eis? How come you survived while others didn't? Narni's words haunted his nightmares.
Beyond the veil of dreams, the ominous specter of the future loomed, awaiting the end of the peaceful night.
Or at least it was supposed to be peaceful. Instead, the sands of time were about to be moved with consequences on a scale Eis couldn't even begin to imagine.