Turning Saints Into The Sea

Chapter 1

~Chapter 1~

She could hear his footsteps descend the staircase to her prison. The place she has been kept for God knows how long. She was only taken to this place when she was bad. She looked up, wishing she hadn't. He slapped her hard across her pale face, making it burn, leaving a crimson color. This time, she hung her head, not looking up, not wanting to see the man who had the same hair color as her, same skin tone, same genes.

Grabbing her by her short dark hair he gave her, she was drug over to the wall, knowing that if she made a sound it would be worse. She learned that years ago. It was all just routine, whatever he did to her no longer hurt, she learned to control her pain and lock away with her emotions. As he chained her up he grabbed the whip, again. Lashing her back until she passed out from blood loss he walked back upstairs, leaving the door open as usual.

Once she awoke she quickly made her way up the stairs to go to her "normal" room. The walls were dull, never painted, a simple bed, a small lamp in the corner on a cheap desk, a few books atop it, a tiny dresser containing the few clothes she owned, and some tattered curtains over her barred windows. Looking out one of the windows it seemed that it was just about time to start making dinner by the way the lanterns looked. Even without sun in the underground the lights adjusted slightly at certain times, allowing some observant people to know what time it was.

She walked down to the kitchen, grabbed some potatoes, greens, onions, and some spices to make some soup. While slicing the vegetables she accidentally cut her arm, it didn't bleed much but hypnotized her at how it felt, she wanted more. After making more cuts along her arm she rolled her sleeves back down, hiding them.

Once the soup was done she scooped some into a bowl for him and placed it on the table. He sat down and ate the soup, not with content per say, but with routine. Sit, eat, sleep. Routine. He nodded, indicating that she could eat. Grabbing a small bowl, she sat across from him, slowly eating her soup. Suddenly the man got up and splashed her with the boiling hot liquid.

"You stupid bitch, how the hell could you make such a disgusting meal. Now, make me something more palatable."

She nodded her head, got up and went back to the kitchen. As she was trying to think of what else to make there was rapping at the door. He took her down to the basement, chaining her up again, this time tying a cloth over her mouth tightly.

"Make one noise, I will make sure to make you regret ever being brought into this world."

When he was finally upstairs she let tears cast down her face. He would never see her cry, but when she was alone she let it out, never making a sound tho. Still not making a sound she heard the front door open. On the other side were two men and a young woman.

"Who the hell are you? What do you want?" her father asked coldly.

The taller man walked up and punched the abusive man in the face, making his nose gush blood.

"What the fuck was that for you bastard!?"

The taller man simply punched him more causing him to fall to the ground. He then put his foot on the other's chest, making sure he couldn't get up.

"Mr. Hayashi, do you know how hard it was to find you?" he asked rhetorically.

"Who the hell are you punks?"

"You know Mr.Hayashi, there is a bounty on your head. Somehow you have managed to make a lot of enemies in the higher ups" a shorter man came up, looking around the room. "What a dump..." he sneered as they picked up the man up and threw him into a carriage, making sure he couldn't get away and received their bounty as the man was taken away from them.

"Did you guys notice something strange in that house?" the girl asked.

"What do you mean?" the taller one counterd.

"There were two bowls in the house, but we only found the old creep inside. No one else."

"She's right, something in there wasn't right..." the shorter one started heading back into the house.

The group looked around the place, ready of anything they might encounter. The shorter man approached a door, slowly opening it to reveal stairs that led to darkness below. Cautiously descending the flight he made way to a light switch. Turning on the dim light he could see a figure facing the wall.

"Oi" he said approaching the figure. Getting closer he was able to see that it was person. She was chained down, head hung down, blood on their clothing. Quickly, he grabbed a pair of keys on a table by the doors, rushing to un-cuff the girl from the wall. "Oi! Guys get down here!" he called out.

"Hey, what is it bro?" the girl came down with the other man.

"She needs medical attention..." he removed a cloth from around her mouth. She was unconscious. He felt for a pulse, it was there.

Grabbing the girl up in his arms him and the others ran out of the building, using their ODM gear for an agile trip. Finally the building came into view. The man holding the the girl ran inside and laid her down on the couch. After a few seconds the girl regained her consciousness. Sitting up she backed into the corner of the couch, trying to back away from the people in front of her.

"W-who are you? Where am I?" she asked in a soft voice.

"You're in our home, several blocks from where your house is" the tall man answered her.

"What did you do with him?" she asked.

"We took care of him, you'll never see him again" the short redheaded girl answered.

Tears welled in her deep purple eyes, she was finally free of him. Free of the man who had kept her imprisoned her whole life.

"Th-Thank you, thank you all for saving me..." she sobbed.

"Tell us...how did you get mixed up with someone like Mr. Hayashi?" the taller male asked.

"He...he is my father" she looked down at her hands.

"I see" the other man stood up, motioning to the other two of the trio. "We have a mission, come now let's get going."

Just before the group left, she grabbed onto the shorter one's sleeve.

"Please, don't leave me alone..." he looked at the girl with surprise before his face reverted back to it's normal bored expression.

"We'll be back" he reassured the young girl, knowing what was in store for today. But unaware that he would never see her again.