before the beyond | ziall boyxboy

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Song of the chapter: Staying Up- The Neighbourhood

CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE

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The dusty earth was whipping up sand and tiny stones against their ankles, bare feet slapping against the ground in skin cutting slaps and occasional skids. The trainer watched on, eyes flitting from runner to runner; one hand clutching the whip tightly and is waiting to use it. Zayn kept running, feeling his thighs shake and his chest ache from the exercise, Liam was ahead, running far more stable and keeping his pace far easier than some of the others. He had been fed more recently, which had gone almost unnoticed by the other boys at meal time, who scoff down their food without more than the thinnest glance at the other plates. Will was beside Zayn, their elbows occasionally knocking and their heaving breaths wheezing together in the dusty air.

The clump of around forty boys came to a halt, lining up in their teams facing the huge wall that separated this area of the training ground form the chaos and serenity of the city.

"Payne!" The trainer yelled. Beckoning the boy closer, who complied with his head down. The all too familiar crack and slash of the whip being struck down on the boy's back echoed through the courtyard, Zayn wincing to himself as he watches Liam barely flinch, his back muscles contracting and his skin splitting from the lashes. It happened four more times before he is shoved to the ground and the next boy is called up. The whipping continued, every lad having a gashing back from the several strings on the whip and the sharp blades hung on the end. The group gather once again, running the circuit of the courtyard once again. "Tonight, boys, Mr Horan's son will be attending. He's never been to a run before so we're going to show 'im the best run of 'is life!" The trainer shouted at the boys, who all seem to let out a nervous huff of air at his words. "Now, in!" He finished, cracking his whip against one of the boy's legs as they ran back to their rooms beneath the arena.

;

"I used to know the owner's son," Liam muttered, the room was dark and the clinging air of anxiety was almost the norm as he spoke out. "Before I came here, in school." And the other boys in the room all shuffled to see him in the dim area, "His name was Niall and we always hung around together, mind you we were only seven, but he was nice. Nothing like Mr Horan."

"How did you end up 'ere if you were in school?" Will asked, school was expensive, and poorer families sent their sons to become runners with the promise that they were sheltered and fed and educated, which wasn't entirely true.

"I came here at about twelve, I was scouted at the school sports day when I ran and my parents thought that this was some elite running school; they barely glanced at the brochure." He breathed out, shifting slightly to ease the pressure against his back, "I used to show off to all the other little boys about how fast I was. I hope my parents realise I'm a runner now and watch me slowly waste away in front of their eyes." He sneered, almost to himself, with a grimace.

"Would Mr Horan's son recognise you?" One of the other boys mumbled, they were always quieter but had a knack for knives; with dark skin and blazing brown eyes.

"Could do, if the cameras are on me long enough," He shrugged, "When did you get here, Will?"

"Me? I think I was around nine, uh, and I lived Under Town with my brothers and sisters since our parents had gone out one night and never got back. Some huge blokes rammed through the door and dragged us out." Will explained, drumming his fingers against the sab on his knee with the slightest smile, "My younger brother, Harry, escaped though. Sneaky lad, he slipped out their arms and sprinted through a crack in the houses they couldn't get in."

"How old was he?" Zayn whispered, their voices had quietened considerably as they opened up,

"Four at the time, the baby of the family." He chuckled to himself. "If we ever get out of 'ere, look out for a kid with dimples and the name of Harry Styles."

"That sounds like some posh name." Liam scoffed with the slightest smile, "He's probably strutting around the city in a suit and tie with a girl on his arm with a name like that."

"I bloody hope so." Will smiled over to the doe eyed boy across the room. Zayn looked at his feet, his worn out and blood stained toes wiggling slightly as he shuffled into a comfier position. He would give anything to spend another day with his dad, run to the ends of the earth for another hour with him, and risk his life for another twelve years for another hug.

;

The team emerged from their room later that night, bones clicking and cracking as they stood and hobbled on soiled toes towards the bathrooms. Relieving themselves and attempting to rinse their wounds before the run, burly guards watching with a slither of pity in the corner of their stony eyes. The boys couldn't be older than twenty two, most of them younger.

Liam felt the healing gashes spanning his back rip open as he walked, seeping with blood and possibly puss if they were infected. He was not too worried, If the wounds were bad enough or looked bad on TV, a doctor would be called in and you would be treated; which he longed for Zayn to have as he watched the boy. His back was layered in slashes from the whip earlier that day, the backs of his legs sliced and diced into an angry red from where he had tripped during training.

It stung. It stung a lot, and Zayn hoped that by enduring this pain he wouldn't be so bloody and puss dripping, Will was hosing down his back, from his neck where his hair gathered, to his ankles that had spots of blood pooling around them.

"This can't be legal," The blonde muttered, shaking his head at the sight of Zayn trembling with pain and the raw wounds that crossed his body. It was the same every time, blood and muck seeping down the plug after the fifteen minute clean up before a run; they had to look their best for the public. By best, they meant with the least dirty wounds and dripping blood as possible to make it look like they weren't ran until they collapsed and whipped until their skin split and their eyes stung with tears that were not allowed to fall, but just tough boys.

;

His hands were clammy and the watch on his wrist felt as though it was burning in every ticking second against his skin. His blazer was slightly ill fitted and his trousers an inch off long enough, but he was there. Sat at the glass table, alone, in the pristine white room that did nothing to hide the blush on his cheeks and the sheen of sweat lining his forehead. He had worked so hard for this, so much harder than any or the other candidates, who were born into a fortune of education and money.

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A/N: It's around half the lengh of my usual chapters, but there was nothing more I could add so... sorry? We learnt a bit about Will and Liam here, which is important and more about how everything works in that world.

QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: Thoughs so far on the book, predicitons?

SHOULD I CONTINUE??

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