PTUI

A ball of phlegm was viciously spat onto Vice’s youthful face as he was held down onto the ground by a much bigger and stronger boy. Vice’s eyes met directly with the bully, about fourteen years old, who’d just called him a monstrosity, disgust seeming to have rooted itself deep within his soul. A vulgar expression was evident as he spoke, “I am only doing you a service by teaching you a lesson here, wouldn’t you agree?”. What this lesson was supposed to teach, the boy didn’t bother to explain. Yet, Vice knew that his life would become harder since nobody stopped the bully’s actions in the middle of the market during broad daylight. The response of the crowd would seem to have reaffirmed his belief that he was doing what was right as he grinned in Vice’s face. Or at least Vice believed this to be the case.

“What have I told you before? None of us want to see your putrid face here. Either you hide it under a hood, or don’t ever come here again. What is it that you don’t understand about that, you demon?” George said. He pulled his hands back and then gave a swift punch to the thin boy’s face. Vice’s head fell back against the ground and dark purple blood spurted out from the new wound that had just been created on his face, much to George’s own dismay as he jumped back. George stared down at the purple blood on his knuckles before continuing, “AHH, you motherfucking asshole! Don’t let me see your face here again.” George sprinted away, his blond hair rose and fell like the waves of an ocean as he went into the thick of the crowd.

PTUI

“What an asshole,” Vice hissed as he stared at the bright sunlight that was shining onto his frail body. ‘I didn’t even do anything wrong,’ he thought as he glared at George’s disappearing hair.

Dozens of people walked past Vice, looking down on the boy with either fear, pity, or disgust present on their faces. None, not even the kindest of children looked at him with warm eyes. He slowly got up and wiped away the thick spit on his face, as well as the purple blood running down from his lips. After dusting himself off, he made his way through the bustling market. ‘It’s okay, just keep walking, left, right, left, right,’ he whispered as he forced himself to keep dragging his feet along the pavement, step after step until he reached his home half an hour later.

Vice opened the old wooden door and entered the dark and desolate home. As he walked past the mirror hung next to the front door, he glared at his reflection. He looked completely normal from his head down, although he was rather tall for his age. The six-year-old boy, however, had one feature which brought him all of the pain, sorrow, and unwanted attention imaginable. From his nose upward, his face was covered in a dark purple, shadow-like mask. Not only did his completely black eyes look devoid of any emotions, but the two horns that protruded from his head didn’t help to make him look kind either. The dark brown skin on the rest of his body was also unique to either the white or tanned skin present in most people in Restok. This different skin color was due to Vice’s father, who he’d never met. His mother rarely talked about this man, despite Vice constantly asking about him.

Vice made his way through the run-down building, which was located in the slums of the capital city of Port Harbor, Restok. A weird name indeed, as the territory was far from any huge body of water.

“Oh, you’re home, I made som-” his mother, Angeline, froze when Vice walked into the kitchen. The woman quickly picked up a napkin from the kitchen and tended to Vice’s wound. She cradled the small boy, who had only turned six a few days ago, in her arms. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Vice gave no reply and instead stood looking at his mother, emotionless. He loved her dearly but knew that his existence had only brought her pain. Had it not been for him, then she’d probably be living a life full of luxury, for she was beautiful and sought after by many. However, his birth and the knowledge of having to take him in was enough to dissuade anybody from pursuing his mother. ‘I’m just a devil, nothing good has happened to you because of me, only bad things, Mom. I should just die already, maybe then you can finally find happiness,’ Vice thought as he stared at his mother.

“It’s gonna be fine Mom,” Vice said before trudging off into his room. He spent the rest of the day sleeping in his bed, allowing his sore body to recuperate, and only woke up again once the moonlight shone down onto the ground and the night had taken over. The moment the light pierced through his room’s small window, Vice felt invigorated. The time of night brought him an unexplainable comfort. There was a solace in being able to go wherever he wanted without having to worry about bumping into others. His vision was also especially suited for the darkness because he could see even better at night than he could during the day.

Vice quietly walked out of the house, making sure the front door didn’t bang closed due to the turbulent wind present outside. His small and frail body ventured out of the slums where he lived, each building as worn down or even worse than his own home. The smell of rotting meat and shit pervaded through his nostrils, but he soldiered through the stench. This smell was something he had grown up with, and so there was already little that could make him cover his nose.

He weaved his way through the dimly lit streets of the city Restok with ease taking the quickest routes and several shortcuts to get to his destination as quickly as possible. There were no lanterns around and the guards had long resigned from their posts. The cobblestone that made up the pavement felt extremely cold during the night, and his feet, which were bare, shivered with each step he took. After an hour of walking, Vice finally reached his destination.

A large tree stood strong in the area, and a brown rope hung from its thickest branch. Vice had been to this forest two days prior, but had decided against committing his final act because he’d been scared to take the plunge. The wind blew ferociously, causing the blades of grass in the field to bow down. Vice walked up to the big brown tree, and slowly climbed up. His fingers were pierced multiple times by the sharp bark, but he didn’t once display any registering of the pain and continued with his ascent.

Just as he reached the branch, a blazing red comet crashed down from the sky. A raging inferno smashed into the tree, flinging Vice high up into the air. The boy was unable to process what had happened because his thoughts had become blank. As he was turning in mid-air, he finally smiled. He sensed that his life was finally going to be taken away from him, as the fall should be too much for his frail body to take. He closed his eyes in anticipation, wondering what it’d be like to finally enter the after-life, what it would be like to finally have this joke of an existence end.

‘Huh?’ Vice thought as he opened his eyes. He looked around and could see the wreckage of the tree he’d just been climbing, its trunk burned to cinders. The flames from the tree had ignited the nearby grass, and it spread quickly into the distance, igniting other trees and shrubbery in the forest. A thick smoke entered Vice’s nostrils and he powerfully coughed out before covering his nose and mouth with his hands.

Vice quickly tried to get up onto his feet, but fell down the moment he put his weight onto his left foot. His ankle was already swollen to the size of his fists, and he had numerous cuts and burns elsewhere on his body.

‘So this is how it ends?’ he thought to himself. He wasn’t mad at the situation, rather, he didn’t want to die in such an excruciating way, by burning alive in a forest fire. He closed his eyes and let fate come for him in the way it had always intended to.

‘Get up!’ a cold voice rung in Vice’s mind. ‘Heed my call. You must get up now.’

A chaotic energy was released within Vice’s body, and his sprained ankle started to heal, its size reducing back to normal. A thick amount of arcana from the atmosphere plunged into his body, rejuvenating the boy’s spirit. Vice stood up with ease, his body feeling better than it had ever before, and looked around the forest for the voice that’d just spoken. There was nothing but darkness and the bright red glow of the fire in front of him.

‘Don’t resist my plea. You must leave this place immediately, or we will both be doomed to a painful death,’ the voice rung out one final time.