Ash walked the Slums this evening. The sun—a hovering golden fireball in the sky—was beginning to fall; descend and disappear, the moon taking its place. 

The slums were utterly egregious. They were where so many houses were packed closely together, given that there was only so little space for infrastructure. Some unbiddenly got their houses built up from the ground and near other houses; where as others had to pay for land. 

The payers were wealthy. But in Dome 1; there weren't that many of them. These wealthy people. The rich people lived together in another dome; restricted for their kind alone. A utopia to an extent. 

Dome 1 wasn't any utopia at all. It was a battlefield. One where you were required to fight for what you want. A fight for everything. A fight for food, land, your life, and your rights. Some even killed because they felt like it. And the police? Well, simply put, they weren't seen that much anymore. Most of them were being outnumbered and slaughtered. 

Ash made it to his gang's hideout. He, eyes slit, walked inside, slinging his bat over his shoulder. The interior was much like the other houses in the slums but it was sufficient given where they came from. They as in his comrades. His gang members. 

There were quite a few of them. Ash entered the room and there was immediately silence. Ash didn't look happy today; he never did. But they had noticed his strikinglg serious demeanor. They watched as he walked accross the room, and sat in his special chair. 

He sat down like a lazy king. And that he was treated like here. One of the gang members who he did not even know walked up to him. It was curly haired man with a huge scar on the right side of his face. Burnt skin that never healed. 

"Boss, good to have you back. May I get you something to drink?" he said, nervous. 

"No, I don't want anything to drink right now," Ash said, "unless it's the blood of Courtez. Can you be useful for once and get me that?"

The man fumbled, shifting on his his feet. "I-" he stuttered, "I can't do that."

Courtez was a powerful man. Ash was not the king of the mafia, not yet he was. Courtez still held the position. However, he wasn't seen for weeks, and so, everyone had started to deem Ash the new King of the mafia. 

"Alright then. Since you can't do shit. Quit my sight." Ash commanded, glaring. 

Suddenly, the young man had begun to scrunch his face in anger, his entire body shaking. His eyes had began to bulge. "Y-you know what, boss? You're fucking shit! I came here and lost everything I've got, just because I thought I was serving a great man. And I thought losing those people was worth it because I get to fight for you. You're garbage now. You're becoming worse than even Courtez himself! 

"You're arrogant. You don't care about anyone else. You don't even look like you feel for your family. Men like you always end up dead. I've done so many things for you. I worshipped you when the night came. And all I've ever gotten back was disrespect. You don't even know my god damn name!" his voice trailed off like thunder. He panted loudly; his chest rising and falling. 

Ash looked away from him, serious. He remained silent. Suddenly, Miguel stood. All of the gang members had followed, leaving their seats. They then slowly surrounded the frightful young man. His name was Tim; but that didn't matter anymore. They were likely going to kill him. 

Tim spun around, slowly, looking at the members of the gang. They all wore smirks on their faces. Tim quailed. "Guys ... I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It was just the rage talking."

Miguel grinned. "Wanna hear what our rage has got to say?"

Ash averted his eyes. "Break him up. But I want him alive."

"Copy that, boss!"

"I'm sorry. Guys, let's not do that. Have mercy on me, it won't happen again!"

"There is no mercy in this new world."

Tim received a punch to his face. He groaned. Then he received to kick to his back; he was thrust forward. Another member jabbed him to the stomach. He doubled over, falling backward. He fell to the ground, his back slamming into the floor. The gang then started stomping on him, relentlessly. 

He constantly groaned, and moaned from the ensuing agony. Their boots and shoes sunk into his skin. Soon after, he was even able to react to the pain. Much less, speak. 

The gang members all retreated, walking back to their tables where drinks remained. Tim was left on the floor, blood oozing out from his wounds, and spanning slowly across the floor. 

Ash glanced at him. A nuance appeared on his face. Maybe he had changed a lot. Perhaps he was becoming more like Courtez now. He averted his eyes again, staring at the floor at nothing, thoughtful. 

He then slowly fished his hands in his pockets. He pulled out Noah's drawing. A king sitting on a throne. Ash sighed. It wasn't always like this. He wasn't always this high in position. He had come a long way. Now, things were rather monotonous. He missed the struggles a trifle. The ones that had changed him. 

He slowly stood, holding his bat in his hand. When suddenly, he became a short, scrawny boy, engulfed in blood. Then, he became a tall young man with muscles and striking tattoos, and piercings. It was all in his head. 

I'LL FIGHT YOU ALL! AND I'LL DEFEAT YOU ALL! WITHOUT AN ABILITY!!! Those words played in his head as he remembered the times. The times when he had just entered this new world. 

He walked away; squeezing his bat firmly.

"Where are you going boss?"

His hand was trembling with the amount of force he squeezed the bat with. He stopped, looking over his shoulder. "I'm going ... for a walk." 

Jin in a mask flashed through his mind, as he continued walking away. 

He wasn't always like this. But he always haunted by his thoughts and nightmares. That was something he had failed to change. 

***

Tim's body was in a horrible condition. Several bones were broken, his skin was swollen, he was losing a lot of blood, and his body was in excruciating pain. He had just made it home, shambling on his feet, and limping all while carrying a bag of goods. 

He leaned against the door, and was about to use his key, when suddenly the door opened, and sent him falling to his face. He groaned. "Fuck!" He shouted, hammering a hand into the ground. His body had fell atop the bag, and consequently, the eggs in the bag were broken.

He slowly ascended to his feet. He never left the door opened. That was all on his mind. But it slowly slipped away. He remebered his daughter, and his wife. He walked toward a kitchen counter, placing the bag of goods on top of it. 

Then he slowly turned around. "Sofia? Sally?" He called, walking toward the door. "I brought some stuff for you!" he clenched his teeth as his voice trailed off. 

He broken the eggs, and hadn't much money. The members of the gang ussually robbed him of his money, and told him something about not doing enough for a full pay. 

Eggs were his daughter's favorite. 

He approached the bed room door; slowly carrying his hand to it. He revolved the handle, and slowly pushed the door opened, smiling. "Guys, this is the only bedroom in the house and you haven't heard daddy calling. How—" he halted, his eyes widening in shock. 

His blood thundered in his ears. His heart throbbed mercilessly. He began to tremble. Suddenly, his legs felt weak. He couldn't stand anymore. He crashed down to his knees, retaining a shock to his face. 

There—in front of him—rested the sound corpses of Sofia, his daughter, and Sally, his wife. The ground was covered in blood. It was an atrocious sight. Their torsos were opened out; and their internal organs were clearly missing. 

Tim lost breath. He slammed his head into the ground, and had started to cry. His body constantly jumped, aquiver as he sobbed. Tears ran down his cheeks as the images of his wife and daughter flashed through his mind. 

Flesh 

Pink 

Bones 

Ribs 

Blood

Nothing 

He saw it over and over again. "WHYYYY MMMEEEE!" He screamed atop his lungs, and then began to cough. 

If he had only been home. If only he wasn't working for Ash. If only he didn't try to follow Ash's life. He only got a girlfriend because he met Ash's girlfriend. He only joined the gang, because he met Ash's gang. He wasn't home, because he was at Ash's hideout. 

In the grand scheme of things, it was ... all his fault. Ash was to be blamed solely for this. He had always tried to be more like Ash. 

He scowled; slowly standing to his feet. He walked out of the room, went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and left the house. He wanted revenge. And he wasn't going to Ash's house.

"I'll take his ... because he took mine." 

He didn't have an ability, so a knife was all he could use. But it should be sufficient to slaughter Dianne, the baby, and Noah, right?