It doesn't matter if it is day or night above the ground. Nobody cares about those cycles when they can't see the sun or the moon to tell them when to sleep or rise. The underground city is always in the dark, with lanterns doing their best to light it up as much as they can. It does very little. For most of the city's inhabitants, that doesn't matter. They have come to know the darkness. They can see fine in the low light and some of them prefer the dark and think of it as an old friend.

On this particular day or night, for no-one in this city knows what the sun or the moon are up to at this moment, a short man with dark ebony hair walks along the streets. He has a look on his face as if he's bored with everything around him. His eyes roam the area. A few others are out and about, doing whatever it was they were doing in this shitty place. He doesn't care. His eyes stray to the roof of the giant cavern, his expression never changing. After a few moments, he looks forward again, the smallest of sighs leaving his lips.

A tall beautiful woman with light red hair rushes out of the building on his right. Her eyes search the area and land on the man. She runs up to him, grasping onto his shoulders.

"Please. Help me." She whispers, eyes full of fear as she glances back at the building she had come out of. The man, unfazed by her frantic actions, stares at her dirty hands on his shoulder. A silent, deep growl escapes his throat. The woman follows his gaze and takes her hands away from him, but does not step away. Now that her hands are no longer on his shoulder, the man looks up at the woman. His eyes narrow. She is beautiful in a way he had never seen before. She seems otherworldly, but… was her hair… pink? He has grown up in this city and knows some colors will appear much different under proper lighting. Although, proper lighting is rare in this underground city.

"Please. We all need help. We want- I want…" The woman trails off as the man's eyes turn towards the door she had run out of. Feet stomp up the stairs behind the door, anger evident in the noise. The woman turns back to the man with a plea in her eyes.

"I just want to go home!" A laugh rises into the air as the door opens again.

"My dear, you are home!" A large man with a fresh black eye exits the building, smiling like a devil at the woman and smaller man. He walks over to them. The ground rumbles when he steps. He throws one of his large arms over the woman's shoulders, causing her to flinch. Yet, she doesn't try to run away. Instead, she leans away from the man as much as possible, sending the dark-haired stranger a pleading look.

"I apologize about my wife, good sir. She's a little, well…" The man trails off, pointing to his head and making his finger circle the air.

"It runs in her family, sadly, but I do my best to take care of her." The shorter man glances in-between the two, his expression giving away nothing. She glances up at who she had hoped to be her hero but looks away from his bored expression when their eyes meet. The woman's shoulders sag.

The woman's husband, as he said he was, glares at the quiet man in front of him. He doesn't seem to be buying the charade. His eyes notice many little and large things. Things that make the situation seem much different than what the man says it is. Obviously, the woman does not want to be with this man. Also, neither of them wears a ring. She seems trapped. Kidnapped, most likely. As the stranger looks at the woman's hands he decides that she isn't the one that gave her 'husband' a black eye. That leads him to believe that there are more peoples monster has control over. And at least one of them doesn't want to be there.

"Why don't you head back inside, dear. I'm going to talk to this gentleman, here." The large man speaks through gritted teeth as a horrid smile stretches his cheeks. He squeezes the woman's shoulder. She flinches as the large fingers and nails dig into her skin. Her eyes dart around the area, muscles tensing as if she's preparing to run. Then, she sends a defeated look to the stranger and walks back to the building. The stranger's eyes meet the taller man's.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak of this to anyone. You understand? My… wife, that it." The taller man sighs and lets out a humorless chuckle. "As I said, she's…well, crazy. We….I don't let her out of the house much because she always causes a scene. You understand, right?" The stranger has the same bored mask on his face, eyes not even blinking once as he stares at the bigger man. After a moment, the taller of the two lets out a large grunt. He leans over the smaller man, his voice dropping lower and quieter as he speaks.

"Listen, I've got many rare, beautiful ladies in that building. You've never seen anything like some of the ones I've got. They're not from here and I can promise that you'll never see anyone like them elsewhere." The man smiles down at the smaller man, "Some boys, too, if you're into that." The dark haired man arches a brow, almost unnoticeable. Although disgusted by this monster who calls himself a man, he maintains a cold mask.

"I'll give you half an hour for free. Then you walk back out here like nothing happened, alright?" The large man says. His maniacal grin widens even more, though his eyes turn into slits. The smaller man knows he could walk away or fight this disgusting human being if need be. He glances behind the taller man, considering his options. Then, a thought strikes him like a slap across the face. He thinks of someone important to him who was in a situation like the tall woman stuck in that building. Someone who could've used a savior like this years ago.

The short man meets the bigger one's eyes. He nods once. The large man seems to deflate in relief. He laughs and swings his beefy arms around to pat the smaller one on the back. The force almost sends him flying forward, but his feet stay planted on the ground.

"Good man. Call me Zak. I don't need to know your name. We'll never see one another again, anyways." Zak says as he leads the stranger to the door. He opens it and they walk past two doors on either side of them, then down a long set of stairs at the end of the hallway.

At the bottom is another hallway that stretches further than the short man can see to his left and his right. Zak says nothing about any of the other doors and instead opens the one right in front of them. The shorter man's eyes widen at how many people are in the large room. Some of them are tied up, but others aren't. All of them are laying on the floor or sitting against the wall. Many of them have bizarre colored hair, intricate art over their bodies, or dark skin. Darker than anyone he'd seen living in the underground. He wonders if this is what people look like on the surface. He'd never heard of anybody looking like any of these people before. He'd never been to the surface but knew people who had and none of them had mentioned such strange looks. These people seem alien to him.

His eyes sweep the group and he makes a mental note that Zak's 'wife' isn't there. The man's gaze lands on a woman who looks more beaten than the others. Her wrists and ankles are tied together by rope. Blood has dried in her hair, contrasting the bright blue color. Part of the left side of her head has been shaved and there are cuts on it like tally marks. Blood also runs down her chest and legs. A scrawny man leans over her as she lays on a small mat on the floor, but his head snaps up when he hears Zak cough. The woman with the blue hair doesn't move her head, but her eyes meet the stranger's gaze. She looks back and forth between Zak and him, her eyes displaying a hate-filled glare as they land on Zak.

"Why isn't she cleaned up yet? We have a guest!" Zak snaps at the skinny man. The man tries to sputter out an excuse but Zak, the obvious boss of the two, turns to his guest.

"You'll have to excuse this situation. We had a bit of an accident earlier." Zak says, absentmindedly reaching his hand up to feel the bruise forming around his left eye. In the lighting of the room, the dark-haired man can now see that it isn't only a black eye. Zak's entire left side of his face will soon be one big bruise. The shorter man hides a smirk at the thought. His grey-blue eyes flicker back to the blue-haired woman on the floor. He sees a fire in her eyes. He looks at her hands and feet that are both tied up. There are many bruises on her body, but the one on the knuckles of her right fist catch his interest. He glances back up at Zak and then back to the woman. Compared to the large man, she is a twig. This time, the stranger can't help the small smirk that finds its way onto his lips.

"Never mind that," Zak waves his hand around in the air, "Where's my little maid? We need a drink for our guest." As he speaks, a small boy wearing an apron and a long black skirt comes out of a door to their left. He keeps his gaze on the floor as he pours a cup of water out of a small pitcher. The stranger stays still for a moment, shocked by how young the child is. He couldn't be more than six years old. The child glances up at him, holding the cup up higher as his gaze returns to the floor. The man takes the cup as Zak strokes the child's green hair.

"You're doing good, little maid. Keep it up." The child bows his head and moves out of the room as soon as Zak gestures for him to do so. The stranger's eyes follow the child as he leaves, his jaw clenched shut. The stranger glances back to the blue-haired woman, seeing her watching the child leave as well. The man doesn't know if he's ever seen eyes full of such sadness. Once the door closes behind the child, her eyes return to their flames as she glares at Zak.

"The maid isn't an option. Needs to get a little older first." Zak says as he starts to gesture towards the others in the room.

"But almost any of these…" He trails off, not needing to finish the sentence. Almost all the eyes in the room refuse to look at them. The stranger takes his time looking, but his gaze lands on the blue-haired woman who stares straight back at him. Her eyes almost seem to be challenging him. He can imagine what she's trying to say. Touch any of these people and I will fight my way out of these ropes. And through those monsters who call themselves businessmen. I will fight through the pain of all these bruises and broken pieces of myself and I. Will. End. You.

"That one." The stranger nods towards the woman. Zak widens his eyes but is quick to covers his surprise.

"Oh, no. You can't have Isilya." Zak spits out her name, shaking his head at his guest.

"She's too feisty, so she is only allowed to serve… certain people." Zak smirks with a sadistic look in his eyes, "Besides, after the accident we had today, you might break her. Any of the others are fine, I guarantee." The stranger thinks to himself as he listens to Zak speak. Or she'll try to break me.

"Would that be a problem?" The shorter man says, turning his icy gaze to the large man at his side, "If I broke her?" The large man blinks, then a smile crawls its way onto his face as he turns to look at the bruised woman on the floor. His eyes flash with what can only be described as madness.

"Actually, that wouldn't be a problem at all. Not at all. " Zak snaps his fingers. The scrawny man looks up from cleaning the blood off of Isilya and stands up at attention.

"You heard our guest. Go get her cleaned up and out of those ropes, then bring her to the master room." Zak turns back to the door they had come through earlier, gesturing for the smaller man to follow him. "I'll show you where you'll be enjoying your next half an hour." The dark haired man continues to stare at the woman on the floor.

"Keep her tied up." The man turns to Zak, who smirks, then laughs out loud. Zak snaps again. The scrawny man nods, showing that he understands.