The Poor
"Day 35. I was almost captured today by a swarm of them. They are getting more ingenious and desperate by the day. Trip wire hidden in the sewers. I cannot risk another chase down there again..." Daven said into his recorder.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reliving that moment. It smelt like a backed up septic tank. The water tensed his calf muscles as he tried to run through it. His fancy white collared shirt had turned into a brown and green monstrosity that locked in the smell of his new environment. The solid metal tube offered little hope, stretching farther than he could see in the dark. All it did was amplify the squeaks of the rats.
"He went this way!" a voice echoed from behind.
Light started to come around the bend. Daven ran for it, splashing water everywhere, afraid The Poor caught up to him. He took a few more steps and tripped over a wire just above the water. He flipped over head first, gulping a mouthful of the disgusting water. He gagged on its putrid taste and looked around for an exit. A little farther down was a ladder. Salvation was found.
Daven opened his eyes again. He was safe. Holding his recorder, he was tucked inside a cardboard box. His knees burrowed into his chest and his arms kept them tight together while he held the recorder up to his face.
"If I don't make it, I just want to say I'm sorry for what I did. I should have never flaunted my wealth, especially at the expense of The Poor. Wiping my ass with hundred dollar bills and giving it to them was not my finest moment. I learned my lesson and humbly ask you to take this sincere apology into consid…"
The box caved in with a foot punching through the top, smacking the recorder out of his hand. He reached for it in the dark until he was dragged out of the box. The Poor had caught up to him. Surrounded by dirty men with missing teeth and various degrees of balding, they took turns kicking him with their wet shoes. Daven tried to protect his head while the blows kept coming.
"Please! I'm sorry! Please!" he said in-between kicks.
"It's too late for that. Nobody messes with The Poor!"
They kept kicking well after his eyes closed and his body went limp. Pedestrians walked by and some stuck around to watch, but nobody tried to save Daven. His fate was sealed. There was only one rule in this city. Don't mess with The Poor.
