Warning: Very dark scene.
Skip if some of this things may trigger you.
Reader's caution is advised.
(discrimination, verbal bullying and physical violence)
--------The alleyway reeks of wet garbage and other filthy waste. A group of unwelcoming and shady people occupied this place.
"They really put this miserable place together, don't they?" Mallory thought to himself.
Mallory felt their eyes following his every step, thinking they could pounce at him at any second. But foolishly, he shook off his fear and only tried to ignore them as much as he could.
A hooded middle-aged man blocked his way. He was holding something behind his back and spoke harshly. "A friend told me there was a faggot in this town. Isn't that disgusting?"
Mallory gritted his teeth in anger, wanting to kick the stranger. But he noticed more men surrounding him in his peripheral vision, their faces visible. Loathing Mallory, just for simply existing and being himself.
He was petrified, realizing it's the barbaric folks Mortimer was talking about in the hospital. He quivered and desperately looked around to find a possible exit.
"Why don't you speak up, Queer?" the teenager in the back reviled and pushed him to the filthy ground. Mallory glared back at the teenager as the middle-aged man grabbed Mallory up by his jacket, his arms around his neck, almost suffocating him. "What's wrong, Nancy boy? Too much of a pussy?"
Prioritizing his anger, Mallory's stubbornness and tomfoolery thought he shouldn't be backing down. He bared his teeth and asked. "What fucking problems to you have with me, assholes?"
A bald man scrunched his face and mockingly glanced at his group. He faced Mallory and pulled Mallory's hair. Mallory yelped and grimaced as the bald man spoke.
"The problem? The problem is that you are a fucking freak of nature." The bald man belittled cruelly.
Mallory bared his teeth angrily. "Freak? Who you calling freak, cow fucker-"
A strong punch in the gut halted his speech. He lays down on the ground, wincing from horrible pain in his stomach. The bald man held him by the hair painfully, and shouted at his ear.
"Sinners like you disgust me. This is what you get for defying traditional values!"
Mallory refused to cry even though he wanted to. He was used to this kind of inhumane treatment, but this is much worse. He won't give them the satisfaction of showing weakness. Over his dead body.
"Fuck you, old man." Mallory growled hoarsely.
The Russian man kicked him in the ribs. Mallory fell to the ground with a loud thud, hugging his broken rib bones. This must be what it felt like to be Malcolm from Clockwork Orange, he thought.
A wrinkly hand held his chin up by force as Mallory glared with fear for his life, confusion, and great anger mixed inside his eyes. "Let's see how much of a fighter you are then, slut."
The bald man pulled a sharp knife, grabbed some of Mallory's hair, and slashed it off. Mallory felt a stinging cut in his cheeks, but the broken ribs was given more attention. It was too unbearable for him.
The bald man pulled up the remaining hair to cut off, but a sound of footsteps echoed to the alley disrupted his task. They all collectively looked at the shadow figure holding a bright cigarette in between his index fingers.
"Let him go." The chilling voice commanded, quelling a tremendous feeling of wrath.
Mallory had a sudden surge of strength, and attempted to run to the man in the shadows by instinct. His dark fur jacket was quickly grabbed, so he removed it and rushed off desperately. He tripped, crawled, and grabbed the newcomer's leg.
The street light's dim lights had revealed Mallory's poor face ruined by bruises, eyes bloodshot from tears, and his bleeding lips. He looked up to his savior, his eyes begging for pity. Mallory squinted and almost bursted into tears of joy as he realized it's Don.
Don responded with his trembling hand gently stroking Mallory's cheeks,
followed by the boom of a tender yet emotionally restrained voice.
"What have they done to you, my love?"
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