Arc 2 - Interlude II: Benn

(Maiores 21, 54 / 9:23PM)

10 Years ago.

Two police officers stood in front of a large hunk of metal, with a handle attached to its right. One of the officers, a male dog-human, tapped his foot in an arithmetic pattern on the marbled ground, while looking down.

And next to the young cop, was a male human with gray hairs marked on his sides, his hands trenched in his pockets. Scurrying his fingers within them, he pulled out a huge loop of keys, and using his left hand, he punched in the code. As the door shingled loose, he noticed trickles of sweat littering from the cop next to him, making him furrow his brow.

“What is it?”

“Just curious. I was reading his file, and the accusations against him seem to be forced, with all due respect sir.”

“Well you’re a dog-human, so it makes sense. Listen rook, out of all human groups, who’s the most privileged?”

The dog-human looked up to his superior, as his eyes locked into his grey pupils. Feeling his neck and nape dribble with more sweat, he cupped his hands nervously. The room began to warm, leaving the rook to feel like he was being imprisoned in a batter of soup.

“That would be normal humans, sir.”

“And the rest?”

“Uh … I don’t know…”

“Let me show you.”

His left hand free, the old cop pushed the metallized door with ease. Walking into the stoned cold hallway, they saw many jail cells, or rather cages for the poor and unfortunate. Stalling at the entrance, and upon seeing the many men and some women wearing blue-colored uniforms, they felt their eyes sharpen.

The walls were plastered in white concrete, and no windows gave way light. Only a single lightbulb hung at the center of the hallway, which showed only some of the prisoner’s faces. Wiping off sweat with his right sleeve, the dog-human turned toward his senior.

“Where did you place him?”

“Where we placed the lowest of society; in the back.”

Both walked through the hallway enclosed in stone, their eyes low and their heads sunk down. The senior officer glanced at a couple of prisoners, while the rook let his eyes wander through the metallic cells.

Unfortunately, he had his eyes catched onto a dog-human prisoner, who had a scar blinding his right eye. Sitting on his bunk bed, he glared at the young officer with knuckle breaking fists.

“Keep walking traitor.”

The rook pushed two steps forward, as he tried to keep up with his superior. Feeling his knees about to buckle, he then noticed a pattern…

From the entrance, he saw mostly regular human prisoners. And as he walked down the line, the human groups ranged from elves, dog-humans, cat-humans, bunny-humans and horse-humans. All in that order, the ones nearest the door, were considered the most privileged in both above and below. But the ones in the back…

“There’s the bastard.”

They reached the last cell of the hallway, as the cage was shrouded in mendicant darkness. Despite it being gloomy, the bed was tucked nicely, and neither the toilet nor the sink were littered with dirt.

The dog-human cop squinted his eyes into the shrouded dark, barely managing to outline a man with a large nose, and a cold frown.

“The description matches sir.”

“Well, what do you know.”

The rookie officer took out a small envelope from his uniform’s pocket. Glancing at it, his senior snatched it out from his hand, and ripped it open. Leaving an ID to fall out, it fell to the floor, precisely in front of the dog-human’s boots.

Picking up the ID, the dog-human glanced at it before he lowered it to the height of his waist. Clearing his throat, and puffing his chest outward, everything from his legs and back was straightened out.

“Benn with no last name. As of today, you’re no longer part of the Kepputhan jail system. Please stand up with your hands in the air and your palms facing towards us.”

Benn slowly stood up from his bed, and raised his hands up high. Seeing him submit, the senior officer turned the key in the keyhole, which created a mechanized unlock to blister their ears. Creaking the door wide open, both officers didn’t pull out their weapons, as they walked slowly toward the submitting shark-human.

At a safe distance, the senior cop turned toward the rook, and gestured to him to come near.

“Bring me the cuffs.”

Jabbing his right hand in his pocket again, the rook pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Giving it to his senior, the old cop walked three steps forward, and raised both his hands up to Benn’s wrist. Cuffing them tightly, he brought Benn’s arms to lower, while his frown froze his face evermore.

“Your felon would be on your record for life boy. Next time, it’s straight to The Dome.”

“I was just—”

A pair of bones crinkle his liver, leaving his entire body to collapse onto the floor. Laying down on his stomach, on the cold floor, he saw a pair of black shoes in front of his nose. His breathing haggard, drool sequenced from his right lip, along with his eyelids flickering from the sprinkling pain. Although he wanted to vomit, he pushed it back into his heating body.

Even the dog-human gasped, as he placed his right hand onto his senior’s shoulder.

“Sir! As cops, we shouldn’t—”

“Unless you have a question, I don’t want to hear anything from that hairy mouth.”

Some of the prisoners, mostly beast-humans, looked downard with clenching fists. Taking a step back, the rook averted his eyes away from the commotion, and squealed his eyes shut.

At the mercy of the senior officer, the old cop crouched down with both elbows stabbing his knees, his hands clasped together as he stared at Benn coldly.

“Listen here, blue-skin. No shark-human goes to a nearby playground just for fun. You probably wanted to do something to one of the kids huh?”

“Statistics say … gasps … shark-humans have the lowest crimes with kids…”

“Yet a similar situation happened 18 years ago. That’s what led to the demi-human skirmishes … where you fuckers murdered my brother …”

Grabbing the top of his hair, the old cop forced him to stand up. Moving his hand down to his neck, he had his fingers drenched deep into the shark-humans muscles, while turning toward the rookie officer.

Feeling his superior’s stare, he unsqueezed his eyes, and looked at him with one of his eyes barely open.

“Take him out of here rook, and then we’ll talk about your relocation to Clastine.”

“… yes sir.”

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 28, 55 / 3:33AM)

Three years later…

He wandered through the empty sidewalks.

Looking down below, he saw the concrete about to break. His hands deep in his raggedy pockets, his legs quivered, with every step blistering his bare feet.

Looking up at the skyline, with eyelids bagged in gray, he saw the cheerful light reflect against his dark scleras. While a dim street light shone on top of him. Pulling out from his right pocket, was a thin white orange paper, and from his left, was a broken match.

“If hell’s real…”

Crouching down, he swiped the broken match across the pavement. Having the bent cigarette held between his right fingers, he raised the butt of it toward his whitish lips.

Kissing it, he brought the burning match to the small thin paper. Inhaling as much as he could, noxious smoke burned through his throat down to his pinkish lungs.

—“Then I’m already living in it.”—

He stood in front of a city highway.

No cars blinding their beams against the black pavement, he slowly walked toward the edge of the overpass. Still having the lit cigarette in his mouth, he placed his left hand on the railing, while his bare feet shriveled from the cold concrete. He looked down, and analyzed the height between him and the darkened asphalt.

His left hand trembled, as he took note of the railing’s small height. His cigarette beginning to dim, he pulled the thin lethal paper from his mouth, and threw it straight toward the empty highway. All the while he felt time pass, as he stared at the emptiness of the clear infrastructure. Feeling the smoke blacken his soul, along with his eyes, his legs shook the more his brain wracked with thoughts.

But then he saw a figure; a figure enclosed in a black hoodie.

The same as him, it stared at the darkened highway. Their hands pressed firm on the metal railing, their fingers trembling violently, it made him turn to look.

Slowly placing their feet on the bottom of the railing, they lean their body forward. Placing their right foot over the barrier, it left their crotch to station at the top. And with their left, they lifted it to press on the absolute edge, and turned around to face the highway dead on. Their fingers clutching the railing for dear life, it made him blankly stare at the figure with dead eyes.

‘What’s it to me? Nobody cares about my existence…’

He continued eyeing the figure, whose legs shook with pure adrenaline. Gripping the railing like a lifeline, he sunk his eyes down to his cheeks, once he saw their heels swelling on the edge of the concrete.

‘Then again. I never had someone to talk to.’

With a heavy exhale, he walked toward the dark hooded figure. Thudding the floor by just his bare feet, the figure ignored him. Their chest heaving up and down, irregularly, it left him to do one simple thing,

And it required him to clear his throat.

“You’ll stain the highway.”

Their palms soaked with sweat, the grip on the railing slightly loosened. No choice, the figure spoke with a breaking voice, their eyes still focused on the dark pavement.

“Y-Y-You’re n-n-n-ot supposed to be h-h-h-here, sir.”

“I get that a lot.”

He had his hands stalled on his sides, and stood near the figure that held a feminine voice. A cold frown plastered on his face, he folded his arms underneath his somewhat burly chest.

“Why call me sir? You know what creature I am.”

“At this point, I don’t care anymore. Even if you’re a s-shark-human.”

Her grip on the railing loosened more, as both of her pinkies were free. Leaving eight fingers to hold her body, the cold wind blowing against her face shuddered her body.

“Do you want to end it all too? At this point, I-I don’t care whether you live or die.”

“Same goes for you.”

“Excuse me?”

She turned her head toward the shark-human, followed by the city lights unable to unshadow her face. Her heels swelling from the singular, of pressuring all her body weight on them, it wobbled relentlessly under the heavy wind. Gulping, her throat jumped, leaving for her voice to quiver.

“So you don’t care… if I jump?”

“I don’t know you.”

She turned her head toward the dark pavement, and felt her toes tremble from the cars passing by. Seeing that her head was turned back, he inched closer and closer to the woman, with a relaxed body despite the situation. Along with a small wind picking up, the wind chill began to numb their blood.

“Do you have parents?”

“Not anymore.”

“Killed?”

“If you’re gonna give me a pep talk, or some inspiring speech, you’re wasting your time.”

“You don’t know me then.”

Both of her index fingers were let loose, allowing only six fingers to strain her palms. Her breathing turning heavy, he took baby steps to the dark hooded woman, as he reached a few feet away.

Looking down on the sidewalk, along the many cracks littering the pavement below, he focused his eyes on each of them. Shrouding his face in darkness, not even the dim light from above, nor the city lights, were able to unshadow him.

—“I never got to see my dad.”—

All the pain he shouldered swept off his shoulders.

Unfolding his arms from his chest, he laid them motionless against his sides, and sharpened his eyes downward. Unable to look at the dark figured woman, she turned toward him, her facial features still yet to be shadowed.

“And my mom passed away when I was 15. It was just me and my twin sister against the world…”

His bare feet remained solid on the cold concrete floor, as his voice rang at a constant volume.

“Two years later, I was arrested and beaten for being near a playground; just for following some creep.”

She let go of her middle fingers, leaving her body to be held by just four fingers. Extending his hand to the railing, he had a loose grip on it as he looked down at the highway below. With his other hand, he clenched it, while his eyes soured evermore from his frustrated state.

“He walked toward a girl, while drool swept down his jaw. She looked like she wanted to cry; so I had no choice…”

She continued to stare at the trembling shark-human, and made a frown amidst her darkened face. Letting go of her pointer fingers, only her thumbs held herself up, all the while—

A single tear riveted down her right eye, as a small flash of memory played before her…

“I asked him to back away. I really did. But then he pulled out a knife. And before he stabbed me, I beat him. I beat him like hell.”

He let go of the metallic railing, and saw that he blistered his hand from the metal. Sulking his fingernails deep into the scabs, he wrinkled his jaw up to his forehead, and furrowed his brow.

“The girl ran for help. I thought I did something good for society … but they beat me, thinking I was the creep in this story…”

His knuckles from his left hand crackled, as the strain flew out of excess stress. For a small moment, silence filled the chilling wind, and even this wind wept silent for a couple of seconds.

“So … what happened to you afterwards?”

He widened his eyes, and felt his whole body loosen like a deflated balloon. Turning his head upward, his face softened from just a single question, a question he had longed to hear … since forever.

“You … believe me.”

She gave him a small nod, as the tear from her right eye quenched the concrete below. Unable to speak at that moment, it left him to jumble the words in his mouth, making the woman repeat her words.

“You don’t seem to be lying. So…what happened?”

Her thumbs began to loosen, leaving her body to tilt forward. Taking a huge breath of cold air into his pinkish lungs, he then pushed it all back, as his already shriveling body sustained the chilly temperature.

“Accusations were dropped on me, and no one believed what I had to say. I got out of jail right when I turned 18; out of pure luck. From there, my life was ruined from the start.”

Both of them locked eye contact with each other, as a morning mist formed around them. Making her breath soften by the eerie mist, it was only the highways and ground humidifying. And up above, some of the stars shone onto them, but dimly.

“My sister cut contact, believing the story to be true. For three years, I’ve been living off of the shelters, trying to look for a job, but my record put a bullet in my head.”

He noticed the woman had black hair, tucked inside of her hoodie. His fingers tapping on his pants, some of his dull nails scraped off a number of dirt.

“Despite all that; I’ve kept going. I’ve had thoughts … but … I still think I was destined for something great… so.”

Lifting his right hand, he placed his bluish yet grayish palm onto her shoulder. Feeling the shivering wind numb his chest, down to his toes, it rippled against the bottom of his raggedy shirt.

“Unless you have a horrible shitty story that can outrank mine, then I’m not letting you just kill yourself.”

Seeing his gentle face, and upon feeling the reassurance of his rubbing thumb, she began to let out a hollow chuckle. He swore he saw one or two tears dripping down her cheeks, as it slightly shone amidst the shadowy darkness.

“Pft … we’re ranking sob stories now?”

Feeling her body began to relaxen, she then pulled her body slowly to the railing. Tightening the grip, all of her fingers soon dug onto the metal, leaving the railing to squeal under her weak strength. Noticing traces of sweat flickering from her cheeks, it was unveiled by the dim light from above, making her eyes appear slightly visible.

“Ok … ok … you win—”

Her right foot slipped, causing her to completely lose balance.

In just a split second, he grabbed the back of her collar. And using all of his strength, he pulled the woman that dangled in the air, and bulged his bare feet against the concrete. More cracks summoning from his gripping heels, it made him crouch and throw her across the street.

Slamming hard on her back, she slid through the street with tear clenching eyes. Unable to move, it gave him the chance to run up to her, and pinned her arms and body to the asphalt.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?!”

“Hey, I just slipped! Promise!”

“I will, until you spill your story.”

The woman he pinned rolled her eyes at him, as she let out a small sigh to escape from her lips. Sharpening his eyes at her, he tightened his pin, and turned her head away from his gaze. Speaking quietly in a timid tone, her loud demeanor faded quickly … along with her cheeks blushing a pinkish red.

“Can you at least not pin me to the ground.”

“Ok. But I’ll hold your hand though. Just in case.”

Both of them stood up from the street, as he had his large bluish hand entrapping hers. Unable to look at his face, she kept her eyes downcasted to the floor, but he kept his eyes entranced to hers.

Her face shadowed, the dim light from above soon began to unshadow it, like a theater unveiling the curtains for the next scene.

“I don’t think we introduced ourselves … name’s Benn.”

“My name…”

Straightening her back, she cleared her throat, as her entire face was soon in full display to him. Having freckles, black hair, and being slightly taller than the average woman, she had a badge that dubbed her the name “Private”.

—“The name’s Gwen … Gwen Keegan.”—