A boy wakes up inside a room — a cold, small, and damp room. As he opens his eyes, he feels the uneven mattress beneath him and a faint pain in the back of his neck. He sits up, breathing with difficulty due to the moldy, rotten state of the environment.
Before standing, he brings his hands to his head. Disconnected fragments flash through his mind: muffled voices, an intense light, pain in his chest. But everything vanishes in the blink of an eye, as if his memory were wrapped in a thick fog.
He looks around the room: the walls are stained with moisture, and there are strange marks — like scratches made in desperation and haste — along with a few almost-erased symbols near the right corner. A camera hangs from the ceiling, apparently turned off, pointing directly at the bed where he had been lying. The boy shivers.
He gets up slowly and walks toward a torn curtain, stained with dried blood and slashed open, partially covering the window. But when he pushes it aside, he sees no light — only a poorly nailed wooden barricade, blocking any view of the outside.
With few options, he goes to the door and tries turning the handle. It's locked… but the structure looks old and unstable, as if it had been there for a long time. He steps back, takes a deep breath, and kicks the door with full force. It crashes to the floor with a dry thud, raising a cloud of dust that makes him cough. But at least now, he can breathe a bit of "fresh air."
As he steps out of the room, the boy finds a long corridor lined with several identical doors on both sides, numbered from 0 to 100. He stares at them for a moment, intrigued. His mind is a whirlwind, trying to recognize the place… but everything feels like a gray blur.
They're going to kill us!
Leave!
Arthur!
Those words are the only things he can remember clearly.
After walking for a few minutes, he sees a door numbered 02, slightly open. With slow, disoriented steps, he approaches it and peeks through the gap. A strong, putrid smell invades his nose, making his eyes water… truly, it was not a place anyone would want to be. Shaking his head, he tries to dispel the stench and pushes the door open — it creaks loudly as pieces of wood fall from the frame. What he finds inside is a pile of gutted, deformed corpses — dried blood mixed with an amalgamation of flesh fused together. It is a stomach-turning sight.
The boy freezes, his mind blank at the vision. His eyes narrow, his skin crawls, his lips tremble with the sensation of imminent danger. His senses sharpen — enough to make him run as fast as he can.
He runs without stopping, as if there were no tomorrow. Each step is clumsy, as though he has forgotten how to properly touch the ground with his own feet, and because of that he ends up tripping on his heel, falling in front of an open doorway.
"D-damn it…"
It's the first thing the poor boy mutters since he woke up — a voice full of anguish, confusion, fear… and pain from something he may never understand.
Struggling to get up, he uses a rusty doorknob for support and pulls himself out of that hellish place… only to be greeted by the miserable sight of a decaying city: cracked streets, unhealthy buildings on the verge of collapse. People in critical conditions — some living on the streets, others drunk, high, with nothing to do but shorten their lives with pointless escapes from reality.
Walking through the streets and alleys, he observes how the homeless survive in such conditions. Some beg for food, others fight for it, while others simply stare into the void… a land without life or soul — the purest juice of human decay.
"Please, help me… I haven't eaten in days…"
That's what he hears before turning around and seeing a homeless man grabbing his clothes, pulling him, clearly drugged on something.
"I don't have anything."
His tone is short and rough, without any real intention to hurt or offend. His mind is still trying to process everything that has happened so far.
"Why are you all like this…? Why… GIVE ME FOOD!!!"
The homeless man lunges at the boy's neck, squeezing hard while screaming and spitting everywhere, drawing the attention of others. Some shrink back in fear; others hope the boy gets killed so they can steal whatever he has.
A cold chill runs down his spine.
As he struggles to break free, another person appears.
WHAM!
The homeless man is kicked away, rolling on the ground in pain.
"What did I say about attacking people, Luci?"
The voice is feminine, sweet, gentle… yet at the same time, carries an obvious lack of patience, an authoritative tone, and a conviction that would intimidate anyone who didn't know her.
"Forgive me, Miss Alice… I didn't mea—"
He's cut off as the girl — Alice — throws a bag of supplies onto his chest.
"There. Food for two whole weeks. Share it evenly with everyone."
Grabbing the bag, he opens it immediately and begins devouring the contents with desperation. It's heartbreaking to watch, knowing he attacked out of pure, miserable hunger.
The boy remains on the ground, coughing and rubbing his neck. When he looks up, he notices Alice's appearance.
She is slightly tall. Her pale skin contrasts with her long black hair, highlighted with slightly bright dark-purple tones. Loose strands frame her face, emphasizing her deep sapphire eyes. She wears slightly baggy dark pants with rips at the knees and thighs; a loose leather belt with silver buckles; and on top, a fitted black turtleneck sweater marked by wear… or by fights, perhaps.
On her feet, medium-length boots with loose laces and thick soles. Her look is finished with a brow piercing and a septum ring — definitely someone who stands out in that place.
"Finished your little break?"
The boy startles, quickly standing and stepping back while clenching his fists. The girl, however, doesn't seem armed, nor does she seem intent on attacking him — she simply observes. Still, he remains wary.
"Where did you come from, kid?"
She asks, eyeing the marks on his body, his clothes — completely different from the usual style around here. Her expression mixes distrust and curiosity.
He glances at the crowd piling around the food — some sharing, others trying to steal everything for themselves.
"GIVE ME THAT, YOU BASTARD!"
A man yells with a shrill voice, pushing people aside to snatch the supplies from Luci's hands.
"Let go! We have to share it, or everyone will starve!"
Suddenly —
POW!
Luci takes a strong punch, collapsing in agony on the cracked, filthy street.
"I SAID GIVE IT TO ME! I HAVEN'T EATEN IN WEEKS… no… MONTHS! AND I'M GOING TO MAKE UP FOR IT BY EATING ALL OF IT!!"
He shouldn't have done that.
With swift movement, Alice grabs the man's right arm, lifts him slightly, and delivers a kick that throws him to the ground. She plants her boot on his back while twisting his arm with force.
"Do I need to repeat it? Share. The damn. Food. Now take it and give it to Luci. He knows how to divide it equally."
She twists his wrist just a little, making him groan before letting him go.
The man looks at Alice with fear and hatred… but also respect. She was the one with the best conditions around here — and the one who helped everyone equally.
"What a shitty situation… Why is everything so… rotten? What happened here…?"
The boy asks, finally managing to speak something other than short, emotionless phrases.
Alice narrows her eyes and steps closer. She leans slightly, one hand on her hip, observing him closely.
"Why are you so surprised by this city's reality? Ah… you're not from here, are you?"
He stares for a moment before answering:
"I… don't know. Everything's so confusing…"
The boy runs his hands through his ashy-white hair with blood-red streaks forming a gradient down the back.
"I woke up inside that structure over there. Smelled like shit… not to mention that pile of corpses that made my head throb. I can't even think straight…"
He points toward the building.
Alice listens, watches the context, and lets out a soft, almost inaudible chuckle. Her posture eases, becoming more welcoming.
"Mm-hm… I get it. Must be horrible, right? Waking up like that, not knowing where your family is, or why you were there. You must be starving too, am I right?"
The boy nods. A strange sensation of… comfort floods him. It's bizarre, but he can't help it.
"You at least remember your name?"
Alice asks while helping Luci distribute the remaining food, doing her best to avoid more fights — a curious contrast to her earlier aggression.
"My name…? I have a name, right? Everyone needs one…"
He pushes his mind as far as he can, and the same flash returns:
They're going to kill us!
Leave!
…
Arthur!
You're taking that name, right?
"My name… is Arthur…"
"Kinda simple, considering your situation. My name is Alice. Nice to meet you, Arthur."
Alice spends a few minutes helping the residents, and once everything calms down, she turns to him.
"Sorry, Arthur. There's nothing left for you… unexpected circumstances. But hey, why don't you stay at my place? It's simple, but it works. And you can eat properly there."
Her expression resembles that of an older sister taking care of a younger brother who just caused trouble.
Arthur feels wary and hesitant — and he had every reason to. He had just escaped a strange place filled with rotting corpses; now he sees a city in ruins, a broken and filthy side of society… and a stranger is offering help? But the confidence in Alice's expression, combined with his own condition, leaves him with few choices.
A double-edged sword.
"Judging by your face, I'll assume that's a yes. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you…"
Alice says, grabbing Arthur by the wrist and dragging him toward her home. At the very least, it was one less thing to worry about… for now.