Printed like white specks along the ashen horizon was the light of a few lonely stars, yet even in their abundance, they didn't seem to bring any shred of luminosity to the earth; thus, the night remained ghastly yet strangely comforting. Sitting on the black heavens upon this clear night was the grace of a blood-coloured moon. It glistened like an ancient relic in the eerie night, casting its rays on a barren land where not a single tree or plant could be seen for miles on end. Bloodthirsty beasts would occasionally sniff the carcasses of creatures that had long died and walk away scowling. The wind howled sorrowfully, carrying nothing but dust across the despairing landscape.

  Occasionally, slums or villages would be seen lined up in the middle of this dry land, but one seemed to stand out from the rest. Although it was a lot more isolated than the rest, it was larger. This place was known as Demons’ Hatch Village. Because it was larger, crimes would be more frequent, especially late into the night. Screams would echo through the whole village, yet no one would try to get involved or lend a hand. The village looked more like a barren land with a few huts rather than an actual village, and a sense of community and family here seemed almost non-existent.

  Towards the centre of the village, the vermilion moonlight pierced through the clouds and shone down especially brighter on a single hut, which was no different from the rest. Inside echoed various noises. The sounds of punches, slamming and a woman's furious cry.

  "You useless kid! How dare you? Do you know who's been taking care of you since you were just a baby?"

  Inside the house, it was a complete mess. Trash and empty alcohol bottles were scattered all over the cramped space, and a woman was beating down a boy no older than six. He was on the floor bleeding as the woman constantly thrashed down on him with a chair, her long white hair completely dishevelled in rage.

  Thump!

  Thump!

  Thump!

  At some point, the chair snapped in half, and the splinters drove into his body and reaped blood, but despite all this, he didn't let out a single noise and continued covering his head with both of his hands. He could hear the sounds of his own bones creaking with each thrash.

  "Argh!" Realising she could barely get a reaction from the boy, the woman gritted her teeth and then kicked the boy right in the abdomen. He coughed out bodily fluids and went flying straight into a table and crashed hard against it, breaking the table in the process.

  Looking at what had just happened, she fumed, "Now look at what you've done, you stupid kid! You broke the goddamn table! Do you realise how much this costs us?"

  The child raised his head robotically. His hair, which was tinged with a gradient of grey to light blue, with white tips of his hair that hung past his nose and the strands in front of his eyes barely covered his purple coloured pupils, which trembled in sorrow. "I'm… sorry… don't feel sad, mother. I'll earn enough… for another table tomorrow."

  The woman stomped towards him, then towered over him as her brown pupils flared with hatred, "You better!"

  Just then, the front door slammed open, and a scrawny man staggered in, wearing a vest over his shrivelled body. He had white hair on his head and a few patches of facial hair on his face. The house began to reek of alcohol the moment he stepped in.

  "Where are you, you bitch!" the man roared even though they were right in front of him. His vision was blurry from all the booze he had guzzled down.

  The woman's eyes brightened, and she ran over to him, "Honey, you're finally home! I got the food ready for you."

  She tried to help him walk, but he swatted her away. His eyes then wandered to the boy who was beside a pile of broken wood, which was once a table, his body shivering.

  "Why the fuck is the kid still awake!" The man bellowed with rage.

  "I tried to put him to sleep, but he wouldn't listen, honey. Please forgive me!" The woman suddenly shook up due to her husband raising his voice.

  The man paid no attention to her words and continued to growl, "And why is the goddamn table broken!"

  The woman looked terrified. She gritted her teeth and then pointed at the child lying helplessly on the floor, "It was the kid! He broke the table!"

  Hearing his mother’s accusations, the boy backed away in terror, his teeth chattering and his eyes quivering. The man looked at the boy, then looked back at the woman who was trembling. Rage drenched his face, and he swung his hand and sharply struck her face with his hand. The force of the slap ricocheted throughout the whole area, and the woman tumbled to the floor. Her mouth was agape in pain and disbelief.

  "You think I'm dumb, you stupid bitch! How can that scrawny good-for-nothing kid break a table!"

  The man raged on before he got down and started to beat her. Realising what was going on, the boy's eyes widened in concern, and he got to his feet before pouncing on the man's back, "Please, stop! Father!"

  "You stupid kid! How many times have I told you not to interrupt me when I'm doing something!" The man roared before he threw the child off his back and sent him crashing against the wall, nearly denting its fragile structure. With that, the boy instantly lost consciousness.

  The moon phased behind the mountains, and the sun peeked from the other side. The boy's eyes flickered open to the sound of roosters outside. He had dark shades under his eye bags, and his violet pupils barely had any radiance in them. The instant he woke up, he winced as he felt pain flare through his body. The sight of the broken furniture and his dad sleeping on the floor with a glass bottle in hand instantly reminded him of the events the night before. He only glanced at his father for an instant before his eyes drifted to his mother, who was sleeping on a mat at the corner of the room. Her duvet had slipped off overnight, and she was shivering ever so slightly.

  The child walked over to her and spread the duvet over her person before he soundlessly left the house.

  It was dawn, and yet the supposed fresh breath of dawn wasn't there. The village, or better defined as slums, stretched on for as far as the eye can see. Although the village was a home for murders, assaults, robbery and misfortune at night, the residents were fairly lively during the day, though a lot of them were probably taking part in those nightly activities.

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  Despite it being so early, some people had already begun their duties, setting up stalls, yelling out prices and all sorts of things. People would come, examine and either purchase or leave, while the stall owners would rub their hands with a plastered smile while discussing the price.

  Soon, it was noon. The cold, winter breeze and the cloudy and gloomy atmosphere had people restless. More people would be seen wandering around, rubbing their hands and covering themselves up in multiple layers of rags.

  However, no one had yet taken notice of a certain boy sitting by himself in a corner - maybe due to his frail and small stature. His pupils lacked radiance, but they perceptively observed everything that was going on. He had a small cup in his hands, which was empty, yet no one would even turn his way, let alone give him a few coins.

  Before long, a man walked to a certain stall. He was very large in size, and his hair was patched in the middle. He seemed fairly hopeful as he was carrying a large cart of crops on a cart behind him, but only frustration befell his face when he noticed the stall keeper lazily snoring away.

  He slammed his fist down on the stall, making the man jump up from his midday nap. "Wake the hell up! I've got crops to sell this winter!"

  The man, still startled, finally realised what was happening. He sat up and let out a yawn, "How much you got?"

  The fat man let out a boastful laugh, "Enough to feed the whole village!"

  The stall keeper looked behind him and raised an eyebrow, "That is indeed a lot… but enough to feed the whole village?"

  "Just shut up and give me my money!"

  The stall keeper sighed, "Bring ‘em over, I'll exchange it for 10 Krecos."

  The fat man raised an eyebrow, "Just 10 Krecos?"

  "15 then." The shopkeeper said, then threw him a small pouch jiggling with money.

  "Hahaha, now we're talking." The fat man caught it in mid-air and hid it inside his garment just to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

  As the man made his way towards the back of the stall to unload his crops, a small child ran past his cart before tripping over a latch at the back of the cart.

  "Watch it, you stupid brat!" The man shouted, but it was too late. The latch caused the door of the cart to fling open, and his crops spilt out onto the dry earth.

  Looking at the mess he had made, the child's eyes trembled with fear. He scrambled on the floor to gather the crop back into the cart. "I'm so sorry, sir! I'll take care of it right away!"

  Frustration was written all over the fat man's face, and he grabbed the boy by the collar, "Who the hell are you? Do you know who I am?"

  Despite this commotion, not one of the villagers looked their way with the exception of the stall keeper, who just sighed in pity. It was evident that this was the norm in this village.

  The child frantically apologised, "I'm sorry!"

  Veins popped in the man's forehead, "An apology won't cut it. Stupid rascals like you need to be disciplined!"

  As he raised his hand to hit the child, the stall keeper grasped his arm. "He's just a child, leave him be."

  The fat man stared hard at him, then back to the kid, "Tch. Get out of my sight, you filthy-!"

  His sentence broke off as he finally took a look at the child's eyes. His pupils were a dull violet, but it looked dark and murky, like he was staring into an abyss he could never get out of. He forced himself to break eye contact before pushing the kid back down. "Get lost!"

  The child got up and ran away without saying anything.

  The child kept running before he finally turned into an alleyway and slowed down. From his pockets, he pulled out a brown pouch full of coins. He emptied them into his hands, and sure enough, there were fifteen. Although it wasn't a lot in the grand scheme of things, it was a large sum for the people of Demons' Hatch.

  The child carefully put the coins back into the pouch before taking his gaze up to the gloomy, grey sky. After a while, he narrowed his eyes, "Should be any moment now…"

  "Aaaarrrrrrgh!!!" A scream of frustration and anger echoed through the village.

  "My coins!" The man bellowed, "They've been stolen!"

  The stall keeper sighed and shook his head. It was clear the thief was the child, but he hadn't noticed a thing. The fact that a child had this level of expertise made him sigh.

  The man raged as he followed into the alleyway that the child had gone into… only to find it empty.

  Keeping the money well hidden and making sure the coins didn't rattle, the child walked past gangs and shady-looking people who examined him closely to see if he was worth the trouble of mugging. Looking at his dishevelled hair and tattered rags, they would scowl and turn away.

  As he walked through the alleyway, a voice suddenly called out to him, "Oi!"

  The moment he heard this, the child's eyes turned cold, and he turned around. Before he knew it, a gang of kids had surrounded him against a wall. There were a total of four. They seemed around 12 to 13 years old, much older and larger than he was. They sneered at him with their chipped teeth. Instinctively, the child backed up, his fists clenching with preparation for action.

  "Hand over some coins, will ya?" One kid said, "We know you just copped some cash!"

  The boy's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

  The tallest one, wearing glaring red rags, came forward and pushed him into a corner. "Don't play dumb, one of my boys just saw the commotion you caused in the town. But you know what the worst part is?"

  The child backed up further, his eyebrows scrunched "What?"

  He pushed the child against the wall, "The man ya’ swept was my pops!"

  "Let's beat him up!" One of the snot-nosed kids yelled.

  "Yeah, boss! Teach him a lesson!" The rest took this as their cue to join in.

  The leader ignored them and grabbed the child by the collar, "Either you give me the money, and I beat you up afterwards. Or I take it from you by force, then beat you up harder!"

  The kids guffawed at their boss’s insult.

  Unbeknownst to them, the boy's hand was scratching away behind the brick wall he was pinned to.

  Conflict was written all over his face. After a few seconds of pondering with his eyes closed, he opened them once again, but they no longer seemed to show hesitation; but were calm. This sudden change in attitude subconsciously made the boss feel a slight discomfort.

  The boy reached into his rags and brought out a bag of money. "Here…"

  Seeing his father’s pouch, the boss let go of any hesitation in his mind, and his eyes glimmered. He reached out to grab a hold of the pouch, but in that instant, the boy threw the pouch into the air, and while his eyes were focused on the pouch, which had been launched into the air, the boy's other hand swept fast across his face, launching brick dust into his eyes.

  "Arrghhh!" The boss cried as he stumbled back, "My eye-"

  Before he could finish shouting, the child followed up with a sharp and precise hook to his face. The boss fell flat on the floor, knocked out cold. The other kids had already started to move and attacked him simultaneously, trying to punch and kick him, but all their strikes landed in mid-air as the child easily manoeuvred through them. As he dodged a kick coming from behind him, the child spun and returned the kick straight into one of their groins. He grunted as he fell face-first onto the ground.

  Seeing their friends fall, the remaining two became wary. One of them backed away, but the other one screamed and charged at him with the intent to tackle, "Why you!"

  Just as the boy was done dealing with one of them, he winced as he got thrown to the floor by a sudden body slam from another. The kid grinned as he pinned the boy down while the rest, including the ones he had already knocked down, got to their senses and started kicking and thrashing at the boy with their fists.

  Receiving all these beatings, the boy's face remained iron-clad. After all, this was nothing compared to the blows his parents would inflict on him. He gritted his teeth and struggled out of their pincer attack, but they remained relentless, especially the 'boss'. Snot drooled from his nose as he hammered the boy's face against the ground.

  After struggling a little more, he finally managed to kick one off him and punch another one away. Using this chance, he got up and grabbed the money pouch off the floor before staggering away as fast as he could in the direction of his house. He heard the kids running after him, but his speed was unmatched.

  When he finally made it to his house block, something caught his attention. His mother was at the front door, talking to two men. Observing from afar, the child couldn't really see much. He hurried his pace as he instinctively knew they were not there with positive intent. Suddenly, he saw one of the men grab his mother by the hair. The instant he realised what was going on, fury erupted in his eyes. He ran towards them at full throttle.