Dream Simulator {Discontinued}

CHAPTER 16 - The Fallen Secret Society

The arm that Arabelle worked on yesterday sat on the table, mocking him.

He knew that he had to get up and work, but what was the point?

Business had been ridiculously slow lately that sometimes, it wasn't even worth it to get out of bed anymore and sit outside, trying to sell to whatever customers were left.

As the endless days and nights came and went, the vendors and customers started disappearing all together. Some of his most esteemed customers practically vanished off the surface of the Earth.

And with Natasha gone, it was like the market had died. It wasn't as busy, cheerful and home - like as it had been before. Now, it was just the dark and dismal sublevels of the sewers where Sunto would live forever.

It didn't even smell like Penelope's freshly baked bread anymore; it only smelled strongly of garbage. Where did Penelope go?

Did she disappear too? 

He would love some of her mouth watering raisin bread right now. That always cheered him up.

There was some soft chatter coming from a couple booths down, filling in the eternal silence. They sounded like they were arguing, and it was obvious that the high, grating voice was coming from Renee. The other husky voice was a man's, but Sunto couldn't tell who it was.

Maybe it was a customer.

Sighing, he turned on his side to face the stained brick wall, the old cot creaking under his weight.

I should leave too. There's no use staying, and I have enough money to go wherever the hell I want.

Is my money enough for passage out of Society's clutches?

Shaking his head, he sat up and muttered "No, no, no".

Leaving wasn't an option for him, no matter what.

If he left, he might not ever come back. Leaving any of the four Cities is so dangerous, people normally get killed for it. If he died, he died. There was no more pretending after that, and his legacy would die with him.

The only reason why he decided to let Arabelle apprentice him is so that someone could carry on his legacy and knowledge. Plus, she was smart, strong, and very capable. But, she was too slow of a learner. By the time she learned how to build her own prosthetic limb, he would probably be thirty.

He wasn't eager to spend another eleven years trapped under the sewers.

Maybe I should have asked Micah to apprentice me. Probably would have been quicker.

Nonetheless, Sunto still liked Arabelle's intelligent company. Her stubbornness was cute, and it often made him laugh. And, on days like these, he loved to hear her voice. It was better than listening to his own groans, mutters, and grumbles all day.

When does she get off from school? Is she coming today? Is she bringing Micah? 

Micah hadn't shown his face in the market for a couple days, which was odd. Arabelle and her brother were always together, and for the last few days, she came alone.

Is he okay? Are they okay?

It wasn't his business to pry, but he wanted to talk about anything that wasn't related to how the market was becoming more and more of a ghost town.

An ear splitting scream filled the soggy air, making him wince.

Okay, not a total ghost town.

More screams started to rise from the booths around him, and he immediately got up from his squeaky cot and opened the tattered curtains that led to his booth outside.

What the hell is going on?

Stepping outside, everything seemed normal. He didn't see anybody; all of the vendors in the booths around him had completely vanished. But there was screaming. A lot of it.

And the smell.

Oh, the smell.

The familiar scent of suffocating smoke started to fill the air that he breathed everyday, making his heart race. Maybe someone had started a fire by accident.

But could it be that bad?

It was so hard to breath.

Whatever vendors and customers were left started rushing past his booth, all of them screaming and panting. As Renee ran past him, he grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

"Sunto?! What the hell are you doing?! Let me go! Run!".

Her hazel eyes were filled with panic as she tugged hopelessly against his strong grip.

"What the hell is going on?," he demanded, the air becoming more thick.

Smoke started to cloud his vision as more frightened people ran past him.

"O-Officials," she stammered. "They've found us. They're burning everything!".

Officials.

Burning.

That was all he needed to hear.

"Shit!," he yelled, jumping smoothly over the wooden counter and grabbing Renee's hand. "Come on!".

The two of them started running, and were unfortunately left behind. Everyone else already had a head start, and some were probably even climbing out of the sewers already.

How could he have been so oblivious? Was he really that tired?

Booths all around them were burning up in flames, their wooden beams falling over onto the rocky path that they ran along.

"Sunto!," Renee screeched, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist and holding him back as a tall and charred wooden beam came crashing down on the spot he would have been running on. It could have killed him.

There was no time for any thanks. He grabbed her hand started running again, both of them panting madly.  

Shouting came from all directions at once, and he couldn't tell if it were from the customers, vendors, or the Officials.

Breathing the air was absolute torture. They were running so fast that they practically needed barrels of air just to keep themselves going. But not like this. His lungs were burning up just like the booths. Just like all the exotic items everyone had on display. Just like the money they all had worked hard for.

My money. . .

Sunto kept it all in his booth, which probably had already caught fire.

No.

Letting out a scream of agony, frustration, and pain, he tugged on Renee's hand and forced his legs to run faster against the hot pavement.

Losing all of his money isn't what made him want to cry. It was knowing that his home had burned down, and no one would be returning, except for him. He had no where else to go.

The one person that he desperately loved probably wouldn't be returning to the ruins Sunto called home.

He might not ever see them again.