Chapter 3

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"Well, this the Devil of Vale's kitchen." The standing man over kicked me. His legs make a mechanical whirl as I grunt in pain. too tired to even yell in agony, the man digs his steel leg into my broken one. "Poor guy, should I put you out of your misery?" A liquid copper taste filled my mouth as I spit it out onto the man's face, while I smile at him with a crimson smothered grin. "You little shit!" As the man raises his boot over my aching head, I just welcomed it at this point.

"Mercury stop, Cinder wants him alive." The girl in the corner speaks up.

"And why does she want him alive?" Mercury (the man with the mechanical legs) turns to the girl.

"Do you really wanna question Cinder, especially on a night like this?" The girl's heart starts to race. "I mean, don't you at least feel bad for him?"

"No."

"No!? Didn't you read the files that Roman gave us?"

"No, because I knew you would read up on the guy and I wouldn't have to." The girl sighs in frustration to Mercury.

"Well, this where he grew up. His mother left him here. He found his father dead on the ground in the next room. Just go easy on the guy, alright?"

"Oh, his dad died in front of him? Well, boo-hoo. My dad- well he... Whatever." Mercury turns to me cracking his knuckles.

"Look I'm gonna make a call to Cinder to double check what she wanted." The girl walks outside of the room as my only way out of a beating just walked away. "Don't kill him."

"Take your time." Mercury pokes my broken rib cage as my head shoots up, hitting the wall behind it. "Yup, those bones are still broken since I kicked 'em." Mercury's heart starts beating faster from some kind of sick excitement. "I bet you're seeing your mom and dad right now saying they wish they had an abortion with you, all the girls in your life turning you down because you ain't even a looker." Mercury's voice cracks as he tries not to laugh. "What, that's not funny? Well, let's see if we can find your funny bone." Mercury jabs his finger into another broken rib of mine. "One" he taps another, "by" and another, "one" and another as my mind retreats back from tonight and continues showing me how I can't get anything right. How I started this, why I deserve this...

..." Oum bless you, man." Even though the old man's bad breathe was practically assaulting my nose, along with the fact he hadn't washed for a few weeks, his words were heartwarming to me.

"He blessed me by helping people on hard times." I can't help but smile when serving food at the homeless shelter. If Blake ever saw me do this she would think I was someone entirely different. But no matter how happy I feel, how generous I can be, something takes me out of it. The group kids on my old street picking on me so bad they put me in chokeholds until I would beg them to stop with hot and welding tears in my eyes. Some of them even hit me when I was being chocked. There was nothing I could do back then, but now I can count up to seven different ways to stop that from happening again. Three of the seven would've left them with bruises, two would leave them with them in the hospital with my knuckles bloodied, the last one is something I still consider. How easy would be for me to slit a mugger's throat? Finally, use a gun and not break a sweat on a child molester?

"(Y/N)?" Foggy tapped my shoulder. The smell of microwaved popcorn he had for breakfast stuck out when he spoke.

"I'm awake." Feeling flustered, I bowed my head and massage the bridge of my nose

"You really need to stop spacing out like that. You're confusing this young lady." Foggy gave a hearty chuckle as he playfully slapped my back

My sonar picks up a small girl, (probably '4 ''11) standing there with a heart you would hear on a five-year-old when opening a birthday present. "What would you like?" I asked the girl, but she didn't answer. All I heard from her was her hand fishing out a notepad and pen, followed by ink being laid onto the paper she was handling. "I'm sorry, I can't -" I was cut off by the girl when she eagerly shoved the notepad into my face. My fists went white from me balling them up, from the girl, not understanding personal boundaries.

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