"Why isn't he moving? Is he… dead?"
"W-what?! Don't say such ominous things!"
"I told you not to hit him so hard… Now look what happened! Damn it…"
"Young master… Young master… What have you all done to him? Young master!"
"Why is this damn dog barking so loud? Already my mind is exploding… Do I have to shut his mouth as well…"
'Why is it so noisy?
Agh… My body. Why does it hurt so much? Did I get into trouble again?
Who the hell is screaming like a lunatic? What kind of mess did I land myself in this time? Evan is going to kill me this time for sure…"
Regaining consciousness, Keith slowly rose from the cold floor.
His vision was slightly blurred at first and his head throbbed like crazy. The sensation of some warm liquid trickling down from his forehead sent a wave of unease through him. As he checked, the sharp metallic scent of blood filled his nose.
"Blood! Is it my blood?" He blinked, struggling to piece things together.
Sensing that something was off, he looked around his surroundings. A club-like place- dimly lit, filled with music and the scent of alcohol.
However, the music wasn't as loud as expected. Instead of enjoying themselves, the young people gathered there were whispering among themselves, their gazes shifting toward an ongoing scuffle.
"Agh, damn… It hurts like hell… Hey! Does anyone know who hit me?"
Keith's voice cut through the whisperings like a whip- loud, defiant and unfazed. He was standing on a table, one hand clutching his aching head.
"Does he have a death wish?"
"Didn't he have enough?!"
Whispers rippled through the crowd, disbelief lacing their voices.
"Hah, you forgot my face so easily?
It seems like I have to refresh your memory, so you won't forget that easily." A well built teenager stepped forward with a sinister grin on his face. His gang followed, shoving aside the boy they had been beating moments earlier.
"Stop it, Abram. Leave him…" A teenager girl, strikingly beautiful but clearly distressed- tried to intervene. "You all are ruining the party mood."
Abram chuckled darkly. "Fine, let it be as my baby's wish. Afterall it's your day." Comforting her, he turned towards Keith. "Drop to your knees and bark three times like an obedient dog. I will let you off today."
Keith stared at him blankly. He didn't have much memory of how he ended up there or anything but the boy named Abram or whatever, clearly getting on his nerves. After years of boredom, someone dared to speak to him like that
He laughed- not a nervous chuckle or a forced scoff, but pure amusement. The kind that made people uncomfortable.
"Abram, was it?
I like your attitude, but you've picked the wrong opponent kid."
Abram's smirk faltered, his fists clenching, "You…"
Before Abram could act, Keith made his move.
A sickening crack echoed through the room as he drove his forehead into Abram's nose. Bone crunched against bone. Abram staggered back with a strangled gasp, clutching his face as blood spurted between his fingers, his eyes wide with shock.
Keith didn't give him a chance to recover from the shock. His hand shot out, grabbing the half empty beer bottle from the table.
With one swift motion, he shattered it against Abram's head.
Abram swayed, dazed, but before he could react, Keith drove his knee hard into his gut. The impact forced the air from Abram's lungs in a choked gasp, sending him crashing to the floor.
He curled inward, clutching his stomach, his body writhing in pain.
The room fell silent.
Abram's lackeys hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances. Their leader was lying on the floor groaning in pain.
Keith cracked his knuckles. "I don't have all night. Come at me at once- it will save me time."
His eyes were as terrifying as a wild beast looking at his prey with the intention to devour it fully. But the clueless ones lunged at him.
The fight was brutal but brief. Keith, despite his injuries, fought like a cornered beast- ruthless, unyielding.
One by one, they hit the ground, some clutching broken ribs, others too dazed to move.
"Please forgive us, Eric… Please…" One of them whimpered, voice trembling.
Keith exhaled, running a hand through his blood matted hair. "Hah… Eric?"
The name felt foreign, yet oddly familiar. He barely had time to process it before a timid voice called out.
"Young master…"
Keith turned and saw a boy right behind him. He wasn't with the boys Keith had beaten up, but the boy had visible injuries on his face and body.
Keith couldn't read his intention through the eyes, fear, relief or something else entirely.
"Young master…" The boy called out again.
"Y-Young master… Me?" Keith pointed at himself, perplexed.
…
The next morning
"How much did I drink last night to end up like this? My head… Wait, where is this place?"
Awakening from sleep, it was the first question that popped into Keith's mind as he stared at an unfamiliar ceiling.
Rolling over in bed, Keith observed his surroundings. The room was neat and spacious, exuding luxury. Paintings adorned the walls, and valuable antiques were placed carefully on the tables.
"Wow, nice room…" He commented. "Wait, why am I here anyway? Agh… my head… Why does my whole body hurt like hell?"
Frustrated, he pushed himself up and staggered toward the mirror- only to freeze in shock at his own reflection.
"What the…"
A complete stranger stared back at him. His appearance was a mess- a swollen right eye, a bandaged forehead, and bruises covering the face and body.
As he tried to figure out what's happening, a few sudden memories of the previous night flashed through his mind.
The fight with the teenagers.
Knock, knock.
"Young master, may I come in?" A familiar voice that he heard yesterday, came from behind the door.
"Come in."
As he expected, the boy from last night came in, holding a tray. His appearance was just as battered- if not worse than Keith.
For a moment, Keith felt bad for him. Unable to find the right words, he simply watched as the boy placed the tray on the table.
But when he turned to leave, Keith grabbed his wrist and shoved him against the wall.
"You… W-who are you? Where am I? Why do I look like this?" In a cold tone, Keith demanded answers from the boy.
The boy scoffed. "How do you expect to look after getting beaten up then?" He replied sarcastically.
"Huh!"
The boy's eyes darkened with frustration. "How many times have I warned you not to go? Do you listen? Am I some sort of punching bag for everyone? Whoever wants to come and beat me…
I'm done. Why should I sacrifice myself for someone who doesn't have a single bit of gratitude?" Tears welled up in his eyes as he yelled, his voice raw with emotions.
"And as for your question… Who am I? I'm Aiden. Aiden Chris, not some guy or bastard." His voice trembled with anger. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?
You think, I never quit… There is a limit for everything.
I really made a mistake by choosing you as my master…"
Keith was stunned by Aiden's response. He could feel the pain that the boy had held back for years.
"Sorry…" The word escaped Keith's lips before he even realized it. "I-I didn't mean to hurt your feelings… I was just confused for a moment.
Does your back hurt?" He asked, remembering how hard he pushed Aiden against the wall earlier.
Aiden scoffed, wiping his tears. "It doesn't matter. My whole body is throbbing anyway because of someone." Even though it sounded sarcastic, Aiden looked a bit calmer by the apology.
"Can we sit and talk?" Keith asked awkwardly.
They sat on the bed, however silence fell between them.
"What's in it?" To begin a conversation, Keith asked while pointing at the tray Aiden had brought.
"Hangover soup."
"Did you cook it?"
Aiden rolled his eyes. "Who else is here to make it for you if it's not me?" Annoyed, he shoved the dish into Keith's hands, almost like throwing it at him.
Keith chuckled, quickly finished the soup. "Were you serious about what you said earlier? About quitting?"
Aiden exhaled. "It was just an emotional outburst. Don't take it seriously." Then his gaze sharpened. "Remember one thing, YOUNG MASTER ERIC JONAS, if I wished to quit, I would have done it years ago.
We have been through hell together, so why should I leave your side especially in this situation."
"Huh!"
"Weren't you planning to show your claws to your enemies finally?" Keith blinked upon hearing it. "I will be with you, let's teach every single one a lesson.
Anyway, quickly freshen up. I'll bring something to eat." Without waiting for a response, Aiden left the room without questioning his young master's sudden change of behavior.
Keith sat there, his mind racing. "Eric Jonas… Why does that name sound so familiar?"
Thinking about it deeply, finally it clicked. "Darkness… Did I end up in that damn novel?"