Disclaimer: this is the third part of a miniseries. Please check my profile for the first and follow if you enjoy.

Chapter 3 : survival

The night air was filled with the toxins of the escalating “progress” forced upon this city. Back alleys were the fastest way to travel now, and every low life knew that. Rushing home every night was top priority. However like with most things luck just wasn’t on his side. A small rain drop descended on the back of his neck mixing with sweat and disappearing among the humid breeze. The last thing needed was rain.

Carrying an extra bag of food from work he hid it under his shirt attempting to keep it dry. The pavement uncared for left cracked and broken, mixed with the sprinkling rain, a loss of footing was understandable. In a futile attempt to catch himself the rough landing left his palms bleeding and bruised. “Ouch, man that looked like it freaking hurt”, a tall thin man bent down with hand reached. A helping hand in this world, the idea was something to be scoffed at.

A small shimmering blade soaked with water couldn’t distill the obvious blood stains rusted on it like battle scars worn as trophies. Blow after blow, he took every hit without a fight. Relentlessly stomped and spat upon. Am I supposed to fight? What would it accomplish? No… let’s just get it over with, it’s not worth the effort..

I’m not worth the effort…

“if only you didn’t slip bro’ what luck huh?”, it was hard to tell how long passed of nonstop beatings before the man was satisfied. Confident there’d be no fight left he reached down finally ready to claim his prize. Why? Why did this happen to me? What did I do? Is it out desperation? Fear? Survival, or fun?.. Why did fate want this guy to kill me? The worst part is it didn’t bother him as much as he’d hoped.

Face in the ground covered in dirt and blood. A growling could be heard among the collapsing of water and darkness. The devil himself had appeared, a monster to save him from a monster. That’s what he hoped as he crawled away from the screaming and fighting. It was much less dramatic then he realized. A desperate and hungry dog chased away the lion from its prey. He turned on his back to see the mutt with bloodied mouth waiting for it’s meal.

Snatching the bag from under his shirt frothing at the mouth, it tore away at the soaked and smashed reward. Unable to move he just watched frightened the hound would turn hungry teeth his way. Before another move could be made a light rushed across the sky and thunder rumbled through out the clouds. The animals seem to have given up on hunting tonight. An empty alley of blood washed away by summer rain. The scent still lingered.

Perhaps in shock, he felt nothing over what just happened going home. An act of God and the Devil playing a game to see what happens when two animals fight over food. Stupid assholes should already know the answer is blood. This type of thing has been normal nowadays anyway. Finally, albeit a little late, he made it home to a much more stressful situation in his mind.

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