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Scars Ch. 1

I'm walking. I don't know how long I've been walking. Just like how I don't know how long this unending rain has been going on. I'm walking down a dirt road, my tired feet dragging against the wet, hard floor. The only thing covering my body is a wet and ragged shirt and pants. My fatigued eyes look out into the distance; not a single sign of a nearby city in sight.

I clench my stomach as my belly rumbles painfully for nourishment. My tongue licks my rain-beaten muzzle to quench my dry mouth. It feels like eternity since I last tasted food or liquid. My stomach howls painfully again, antagonizing me over my inability to eat. All I can do is walk, walk..., and walk.

I can barely remember why I began walking in the first place. But then the memories resurface and I shun them away, trying desperately not to think back to that moment...that nightmare. My life...what made it so awful, what did I do to deserve this, what sin have I committed.

As my thoughts take my concentration away, I trip on a rock and fall to the ground hard. I push my exhausted body up and continue onto my way, wherever it takes me, I don't really care...I just want to find a place to rest.

---

Chris was at his computer, finishing the last of his online homework. Chris was a straight A student, and now that he's in college, he's set himself for the big leagues. He turned off his browser; the only thing keeping his room alight now was his TV, which was set on the channel 4 news. The reporter was talking about some story about this politician getting snappy at a guy at a press conference; nothing new or out of the ordinary in the city of Midna.

Midna was a somewhat large city, nothing too special about the place. Just like Chris, just a regular 20-year-old dingo. Chris moved here after getting into Midna University. He got himself a cheap apartment to stay in that was close to the school. He wasn't alone of course; his childhood friend, a panda named Patrick, lives right next door to him. While not at school or doing homework, Chris and Patrick, along with some of Patrick's friends, would play poker. For now, Patrick lay sleeping on Chris's couch, a half drunken bottle of vodka cuddled in his arms.

Patrick was a drinker...and a pothead...and a bit of a jackass, but to Chris, Patrick was his most loyal friend. Chris practically thinks of Patrick as family, not like Chris's real family cares about him. Chris's parents were happy to see their son leave home and off to college, more time for themselves. The only person in his family he really talks to is his sister, who lives in Riverdale, a smaller city north from Midna.

Chris gets up from his chair and stretches; he looks over to the window, still drizzling like mad outside. "I hope it gets better soon" he thought. Chris has school tomorrow and coming into the classroom smelling like wet dog is the last thing he wants to happen.

Chris taps on Patrick's shoulder. He shuffles a bit and opens an eye to Chris. "Sorry buddy, I got school in the morning," Chris pats Patrick's shoulder. "And you have work."

"Come on dude," Patrick whined, giving me a drunken, puppy dogface.

"Sorry man," Chris said taking the vodka away from him, Patrick tries to take it but Chris gets it out his reach. "Get up before you piss all over my couch again."

"Kinda too late for that," he whispered, getting up.

"What?" I asked placing the vodka in my freezer.

"Nothing," Patrick said heading for the door. "Hey dude, don't forget about our game with R.J tonight."

"I won't," I said. I heard the door slam and stretched my arms. "Guess it's time to hit the hay."

I went walked over to my bedroom, took off everything except my underwear, tucked myself into the covers, and fell asleep.

---

I finally found it...civilization. I forced my body to move toward the city. The lights on the building were so illuminating, so spectacular. My drained eyes looked at the lights, never blinking. I soon passed a sign, not a single glance towards it. The letters M and D caught the corner of my eye, but I could look away from the enchanting light before me.

My ears catch the faint noise of cars, blasting their horns at each other like two wild dogs protecting their territory. I soon reach the city. The cars buzzing past me, splashing puddles of water onto the sidewalk. People in trench coats and umbrellas walk past each other going to their own different destinations. I walk around, looking at all the different looking buildings that surround me. I soon find a quiet little alleyway. I walk clumsy towards it; lie down on a pile of trash bags and drift off to sleep.

"Drake what have you done!?"

"It had to happen Lucan, you know the laws."

"No....why Drake?"

"She died the moment you broke the law."

"NOOOOO!"

I wake up from the nightmare. The same nightmare that comes to me whenever I pass out from exhaustion. My breathing slows down as I remember where I am. The nightmare will never leave me alone; it tortures me to no end.

My stomach makes another angry growl as I whine in painful hunger. Death will come to me soon if I do not find something to eat fast. I look around, sniffing at the air to catch the slightest scent of food. I catch something. I stand up and follow my nose to the scent of food. The scent gets closer and I come to a trashcan.

I open the lid and duck away as a cloud of flies soar out of the trashcan. As I open my eyes, I find what I'm looking for, a pizza box. I take it out of the trashcan and open the box to find three pieces of pizza still inside. One of the slices is half eaten, but my lust for food ignores that fact and I quickly devour the food.

I drop the box as I fall to my knees and vomit onto the ground. I huff profusely as tears of defeat race down my face. I pick myself up from the ground and walk back to the pile of trash bags. I stop as I see a man grabbing the bags and throwing them into a garbage truck. As the last trash bag is thrown in, the man gets into the truck and leaves.

All I am left with is the cold, hard ground. I crouch against the wall, shivering from the cold rain, still pouring down on me. If hunger didn't kill me, hypothermia would. Frankly, the will to live is slowly leaving my body. I close my eyes tightly and try to sleep again, praying the nightmare spares me this one time.

---

The alarm clock buzzes in Chris's ear as he lifts his arm out of the covers and smacks the alarm clock to the ground, silencing it. Chris gets out of bed and walks into the bathroom. Chris looks himself in the mirror; a drowsy looking dingo stares at Chris, copying his movements. After a quick shower, Chris gets himself dressed in his regular cloths, a white polo shirt and black jeans.

After a fast look at the mirror again, Chris rushes out the door and out of the apartment. The rain has stopped, but the puddles are still scattered around the street. Chris runs out of the apartment, stepping on a puddle. The water splashes onto a wolf who's crouched down next to the dumpster. Chris doesn't notice and continue sprinting to school.

Chris gets to class right as the bell rings. The teacher taps the board with a long ruler. The entire class, Chris included, begins writing down notes as the teacher gives his lecture. After the lecture, the teacher starts asking questions to random students.

It isn't long until the teacher calls on Chris. Chris stands from his seat and answers the question effortlessly.

"Correct," the teacher said. Chris sits back down. The rest of the day was taking notes and answering questions. The bell finally rang, Chris gathered all his books and papers and quickly leaves the school.

As Chris walks back to his apartment, he stops at the entrance. Chris turns to an alleyway next to his apartment. There, lying on the ground, barely alive, is a wolf. Chris dropped all his belongings and rushes to the man.

"Hey, can you hear me," Chris yelled. "Come on, open your eyes!" Chris looked around to find anyone, but the sidewalk was empty and only a few cars passed by. Chris grabbed the man and carried him by the shoulder. Chris was not a strong individual, but the man's fragile state gave Chris the boost he needed.

Chris carried the man all the way to his apartment door. Chris took the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Chris carries the man into his apartment. Inside, Patrick was sitting on the couch, vodka bottle in hand, watching TV.

"Hey dude," Patrick said, taking a swing of vodka. "You have to watch this fucking game show, these people are fucking idiots dude."

"Patrick help me out man!" Chris yelled. Patrick turned his head to Chris, the half dead man against Chris's shoulder.

"Oh shit," Patrick jumped off the couch and goes over to Chris. "Who the fuck is this guy?"

"Just help me get him to the couch," Chris said. Patrick grabs the man and takes him the couch. Patrick lays the man onto the couch. Patrick turns to Chris.

"Okay, before we do anything," Patrick said. "Who is this guy?"

"I found him half dead outside the apartment," Chris said.

"So you just decided to bring him to your house and lay him on the couch I regularly sleep on!?" Patrick said dumbfounded.

"I'm not going to just let him die out there Patrick," Chris said.

"Fine, fine," Patrick said. "What do we do with him?"

"I don't know," Chris said. "He looks starved, maybe I can make some food for him for when he gets up."

"Oh great now we're making food for him, fan-fucking-tastic dude," Patrick said.

"I'm the one making the food," Chris said. "You can continue getting drunk and high."

"I kinda lost my bong yesterday," Patrick said, rubbing his head. "Hey wait a minute."

Patrick goes over to the guy, still unconscious on the couch. Patrick lifts the man's body and grabs the vodka bottle still on the couch under the man's back. Patrick takes the top off and takes a swing.

"Hey, since your already cooking, can you make me some meatloaf dude?" Patrick asked.

"I'm not cooking a damn thing for your drunken ass!" Chris said from the kitchen.

"Jeez, didn't need to get so testy," Patrick takes another swing of vodka.

---

I half open my eyes, everything is so blurry. I clutch some sort of leather with my hands. "Where am I?" I ask softly.

"Hey dude I think he's awake!" a voice yells.

"Patrick stop shouting in my ear I can hear you," another voice says. Suddenly, a large person appears in front of me. I still can't see clearly, but I can tell the person's head is right in front of mine.

"Hello Mr. Homeless fuck," the voice said. "Did ya have a nice little nap on my couch?"

"Patrick get your panda ass out of the way," a voice said. "And it's my couch by the way. Hello, can you hear me?"

"Y...yes," I gasp out as response.

"What's your name?" the voice asked.

"L...Lucan," I said.

"It's nice to meet you Lucan, my name is Chris," Chris said. "And this is my friend, Patrick."

"Sup," Patrick said.

"S...so hungry," I said.

"I made you some food," Chris said. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I think I c...," I try to stand, but I lose balance. Chris catches me and sets me back on the couch.

"Here, I'll go get the food," Chris said. "You stay here with Patrick."

Chris leaves to the kitchen. I sit there as me and Patrick begin a lengthy staring contest. "So...how long have you been homeless?"

"I don't know," I said. "I've lost count on the days."

"You smoke weed?" Patrick asked.

"No," I said. "Do you?"

"I smoke a bowl when I want to," Patrick said.

Chris comes back from the kitchen with a bowl of meatloaf. He hands the bowl to me, a grab the spoon in the bowl and start eating the food.

"Is that the meatloaf I bought for myself?" Patrick asked.

"Oh give it a rest," Chris said. "R.J called me; he said he wants to see you at his house for something."

"Oh shit I almost forgot!" Patrick said running to the door.

"He also wanted to remind you to turn on your fucking phone," Chris said as the door slams shut.

I keep eating the meatloaf as Chris takes his focus from Patrick back on me. "Th...this is delicious," I said.

"I'm happy to hear," Chris said. "You must be extremely hungry. How long have you been out there next to that dumpster?"

"Just a day, maybe two," I said. "I just got to this city and found shelter here."

"Well you're lucky I found you," Chris said. "Most if not all of the people here in Midna would've let you rot in that alleyway."

"You're not like them," I said, finishing the last of the meatloaf.

"No," Chris said. "And Patrick may act like an asshole, but when you get to know him, he's actually a nice guy."

"Thank you for the meal," I said, handing the empty bowl to Chris. "I guess I should be going now."

I stand up, still a little lightheaded. I walk over to the door and open the door. "Wait!" I heard Chris call out behind me.

"Hmm," I looked back. "Yes?"

"You don't need to go," Chris said. "I mean, you can stay here if you like."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"You have any idea where you'll go when you leave?" Chris asked.

"Chris was right," I thought. If I went outside again, I'd just starve all over again, but I can't just stay here and leech of this guy. And then there's them, what if they're looking for me at this very moment.

I'd be putting Chris in danger if I stayed here. "I don't know," I said.

"Don't worry," Chris said. "You can sleep on the couch. And I have enough food in the fridge for two."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah," Chris said smiling.

I sigh. "Okay then," I said, closing the door. "Is there any rent I need to pay?"

"This place is cheaper than it looks," Chris said. "And no offence, but you don't look like a guy with money."

"Yeah," I said rubbing the back of my neck.

"Well make yourself at home Lucan...um do you have a last name?" Chris asked.

"It's Gates," I said. "Lucan Gates."

Chris outstretches his hand to me. "Nice to meet you Lucan Gates," Chris smiled. "My name is Chris O'Connor."

"It's good to meet you too," I said shaking Chris's hand.

---

Deep in a forest, a small village sealed off from the rest of the world. A wolf walks to a house much larger than the rest. The man knocks on the door.

"The password," a voice says behind the door.

"Vives gladio," the man said. The door opens, the man walks inside to be greeted by a rat.

"Welcome back Drake," the rat said with a ruff voice. "Did you find him?"

"I have," Drake said. "He is living in a city east of here. The city is called Midna."

"Midna?" a female voice says in the shadows. "That's what I call dumb luck."

"He should have died of starvation," the rat said. "Your brother just loves to play with life and death, doesn't he Drake."

"I could say the same for you rat," the vixen said coming out of the shadows to reveal herself. "Nevertheless, we can't just let him continue his little vacation."

"No we can't," Drake said.

"Why don't you send me," the rat said. "I'll drag that little deserter by the tail all the way back here, but hehe, a limb might be missing, maybe two."

"I've already decided who I'll send," another voice boomed. Drake, the rat, and the woman both look behind them to see a raccoon walking to them, a wicked smile across his face, his hands behind his back; two swords dangle on his sides. "Drake your brother left before being promptly punished for his crimes."

"His crime was what again?" the vixen asked.

"He abandoned his guild and broke a fundamental law," the raccoon said. "Both are punishable by death." The raccoon turns and walks away, the rat walking with him.

"Are you really going to let them kill him Drake?" the vixen asked outraged.

"I can't do anything Tonya, you know it as well as I," Drake said. "He abandoned the guild."

"Did Lucan abandon the guild?" Tonya said. "Or did the guild abandon him?"

"Lucan knew the laws of the guild and still broke one of them," Drake said walking away. "He deserves everything given to him." Tonya is left standing there, a stressed and worried look on her face.