before the beyond | ziall boyxboy

0.5

SONG OF THE CHAPTER: Submarines- The Lumineers

CONTAINS SLIGHTLY GRAPHIC DESPCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE

;

The hills were draped in a watery mist that clouded the view of young, pre-pubescent boys and girls being marched through the valley and to the arena. Their eyes wide and fearful, legs coated in scratches from stinging nettles and goose bumps, hands clasping one another as the huge structure came into view. It was surely daunting and their bodies slacked and cowered in worry and fear, clutching one another for the slightest protection as the large men continued to push them forward.

Some of them had been taken from their homes Under Town, their parents either away at work or too weak or drunk to save them when their front doors were slammed over and their kids dragged away with nothing but tearstains left behind on the carpet. A few were tricked and came from higher class areas of the city, their parents deceived or their bodies snatched on their way home from school; either way, becoming a runner was their fate.

The sun was slowly rising, and Louis watched with watery eyes as the kids were taken past the outskirts of the Horan's property. His heart clenched the same way it had since he was a young boy at the sight, it was all too common and though he should have been used to it, it was undoubtedly the worst thing he saw.

One time, when he was pushing on eleven, he woke early to the sounds of whistling and had ran straight to his condensation covered window in curiosity. It was a scene that stuck with him for years, haunted him though the nights and tugged at his mind during the day. A girl was weeping, her hands wrapped around the body of a boy who could be no older that seven, whose golden hair that had been matted with blood and a leg that was twisted in the most uncomfortable way. The sound of a gunshot had startled him so much he whacked his forehead again the glass window with a painful clang, but now the girl had fallen back with wide eyes and a lack of life. The group of kids stared on in utter fear and were frozen in shock, though their footsteps crunched across the frosty grass as the men leading them pushed onwards; leaving the two lifeless bodies behind to be cleared away before the sun rose fully.

He hated the business, the whole idea of runners and the way people reacted to the sport was something he loathed a whole. However little impact he had on everything, he hoped sincerely that Niall would be able to do something to help the kids, the innocent kids who lost their childhoods because of power hungry rich men and women who had nothing better to do than watch malnourished teenagers risk their lives against their will for entertainment.

Rubbing his eyes with one hand and yawning lowly into his other fist, the lad gathered his wits just enough the draw back his curtains fully and turn away from the misted figures who were walking to an inevitable life of sadness and struggle. He always felt guilty when they brought in new kids every few months, knowing that in a few years they would be the ones on the telly with no hope.

He stumbled through the doorway of his bedroom after dressing himself in the usual semi-smart attire he was required to wear as Niall's personal assistant. The house was silent apart from his footsteps that echoed against the high ceilings and bounced off the thick, frost tinted windows. The weather had dipped significantly over the last few days, with September rolling in and summer being left behind. Louis smiled to the cook as he passed the kitchen, seeing the ageing man who had been there since before he could remember mixing up what looked to be some sort of cake batter. The man sent him a grin before turning to the oven and fiddling with the knobs.

Louis knocked his cold knuckles against the thick wood of Mr Horan's office, needing to collect any papers for the day to give to Niall at the correct times. It swung open to reveal a worn out and wrinkle prone Mr Horan, who mustered he slowest of smiles before moving back into the room.