Cruel World

It was a cruel world.

Those who dwelled in the dark fought for the top, the harsh ways of their world were simply a struggle for power. Lust and greed tainted the air, blackening their side of the wall. Only those who fought their way to the monarchy could have a taste of the other side. Everyone desired, longed, and lusted; except him.

Harlem resided in the shadows, so dark even the other nocturnal spirits could zero in on him. It was the perfect space for him, he could hide away without a fight. A way for him to ward off even the brightest spirits.

Harlem had long ago decided that he didn’t want to rule, he hadn’t had the greed nor lust for power. And that was used against him. The torturous magic-bounding chain around his throat left scars that weighed heavy on his shoulders. He was enslaved, tugged about like a guard dog as the dark spirits fought for ownership. It was known among the dark realm that those who could blend into the harshest shades of black held incredible power.

What a pity, he thought to himself. It was a waste of magic, the dark realm was no place for him. He’d much rather blend into the grey hues of the border. No one paid them any heed and left them to scratch their way up. 

Harlem breathed a gruff breath, sitting back at the edge of the dark realm. He had resided alone there ever since he had escaped, watching chaos unfold on his side of the border. He wondered when it would all end. Who would lead the realms? What kind of tyrant would rule with a selfish iron fist.

His pondering was interrupted abruptly as he felt a touch on his forearm. Harlem leaped up and back a few feet, dropping into a predatory stance. His eyes scanned, noticing a thin outline around the figure. They were a quarter of a shade lighter than him. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

Harlem’s dark eyes flickered a bright blue as he assessed the potential adversary. The man flashed his pale fangs as he sent a sinister grin to Harlem. “We mustn’t dally now, friend. Her highness awaits your presence in court.” Harlem tensed immediately. The last time he had been sent to the court, he was bound to a man who’s only care was for magical ability.

Harlem stepped back, he was a fetcher. The fetchers worked for the current monarchy, collecting those that the royals wanted. Their bloodstream was tapped into, power from those they killed running through their veins. They were the embodiment of destruction.

His fang nibbled on his lip as he contemplated what to do. His shoulders fell in submission, if he was going to get away, he’d have to do it by the kingdom. “Alright.” Harlem’s jaw clenched as the bright smile seemed to widen, the fetcher gripping his arm as they apparated within the kingdom.

Harlem fell back with a grunt, damned fetchers. An oak wood room kept him confined, only a window giving him a view of the bordering wall. The fetcher had already taken his leave, leaving Harlem to his thoughts. He knew it wasn’t fairly hard to escape from the kingdom, there weren’t many threats in the grey area part from the fetchers. If he remained silent enough, he could perhaps find his way back.

Glancing to the door, he tried his hand at it, opening it a crack and glancing his shining azure eye out. Fetchers guarded each corner of the hall, stoic faces wary. Shutting it, he concluded the door was not an option. His gaze fell back to the window, it was a 50 foot drop. His only chance at not falling to his death were his powers which hadn’t been in use for decades.

I’d rather die than be tied up like an animal again. He concluded if he managed to survive, the sound would no doubt alert the fetchers. Harlem didn’t dwell on the chilling thought, I just need to get the hell out of here. Three steps back and next thing he knew, Harlem was airborne.

His arms crossed, eyes shutting as he willed a force field. He felt electricity surge in his body as a blast was expelled from his wrists. Harlem bounced back from the shot, his spine hitting the wall painfully as he felt himself fall through. A gasp of pain left him as he turned onto his front.

“What the—”

“Oh my sun! Are you alright?” He felt a touch on his back that sent pain ricocheting through him. Harlem growled as he twisted, feeling his body reform. He leapt up, stretching.

It dawned on him only then. He was in the light. Harlem stumbled, a hand latched onto his as it pulled him to regain balance. The bright girl gazed at him with concern etched on her face. “Who are you?” He spoke, bemused.

“I’m Belle, but enough about that, are you alright, how did you get here?” She glanced around for wounds, dark green eyes searching.

Harlem looked back to the wall that had already patched up his mess. “I’m fine and I suppose I broke through the wall..?” It was more of a question rather than a statement and she looked at him in awe.

Grasping his hand, she dragged him along. Trudging behind he surveyed the light as the grey shifted to a brighter setting, nearly blinding. His skin felt hot in the light, the dark wasn’t meant to mingle. Perhaps this was for the best, he wondered. The dark was a wicked place, perhaps if he adapted to their ways, he could dwell here, a simple life.

“This is my shade.” She smiled warmly like everything else in this foreign land. Harlem sat down, chewing on his lip as his eyes glanced around noting the stares sent his way. Some were baffled like him while others glared. Understandably so, he was different, a foreign idea. Nobody liked different.

Their whispers met his ears, drawing unease from him. “Who’s that? Why is he such an ugly shade?” One girl snarked.

“What is that thing?” A male stepped back warily.

“Why is it with Belle, is she in danger?”

“Oh my sun, we must help her!” The group consulted each other with nervous gazes.

“No need! He’s a friend!” Harlem felt Belle hold his shoulder reassuringly. He watched as the group gave tight smiles, nodding after sparing the large male a nervous eye. Harlem, breathed out, at least he could confide in one person. That was more than he’s had in a very long time.

“Don’t pay them any heed, they’ll come around to a newbie eventually.” She offered with a sweet smile. “I had never gotten your name, by the way.”

“Harlem.” He tried to replicate the lip quirk, inevitably flashing his bright fangs. A gasp was heard from meters away but he tried to ignore it, focusing as an excited gleam glowed in Belle’s forest eyes.

“You have fangs! I’ve read up so much on the other side of the wall, it’s such a fascinating realm. Terrifying to say the least, but oh so thrilling to read about!” It had only occurred to Harlem, he’d never known what was on this side. He was on unknown land but this was a risk he’d be willing to take. This was the first time he had any form of companion.

Harlem hummed, images of the wicked ways of his realm flickering through his mind. This was his chance to start anew. He looked back, her bright smile widening.

“I read all about the slaves, the power, the victory. How I wonder what it’s like. We all do!” His spine tensed. His nerves began shaking as his head tilted. “I want that. I want to know what it’s like Harlem.” 

Her hand gripped his arm. Eyes turning dark. This was not the same girl he had met at the border. He moved back, stumbling when he felt his throat tighten, his strength suddenly drained. A burning sensation holding him still. Harlem reached his hand up as he felt it. The chains locking him in place. “You’re mine now, slave.” He felt dread hit him, as he suddenly became aware of how powerless he was in this realm.

The light and the dark, both were equally as wicked. The only difference was nocturnal and diurnal. In this world everyone wanted to be at the top; all powerful. And he had finally succumbed to it.

The world was truly a cruel place.