Life couldn’t get much worse then this, right..?

wrong.

you, a broke collage student, are currently running down these ruined alleyways like a mad man, in a rain storm no less. why? because loan sharks. a debt so large not even all you’re part-time jobs make a dent in it.

it all started two years ago when you’re father abandoned you and ran, leaving behind all this towering debts you simply couldn’t pay off.. which resulted in you being beat quite regularly and chased around for money. which is exactly what’s happening right now.

you’re legs are burning and you’re chest feels tight as you barrel down these unfamiliar roads and backstreets, just to get away from these men. ‘what has my life come to..?’ the footstep behind you start to slow, you’re thinking ‘this is my chance!’ you turn a corner..

BAM!!

a sharp knock to the head sends you flying forwards onto you’re knees. the cold asphalt pricks and you’re knees and hands. the cold rain pelts all around you. it’s quiet. you’re chest is heaving.. sharp footsteps break the silence; the sounds similar to a predator stalking it’s pray. you’re blood run cold. a pair of black loafers stop just in front of you, clean and polished and protected from the rain by an umbrella. you slowly raise you’re head up.. up.. up..

those cold, lifeless eyes stare right back into you’re. dressed in an expensive black charcoal suit, black leather gloves, and a watch that definitely costs thousands, Asmo Verrti looks like every self made gangster out there. his loyal right hand man stand to his left, holding the umbrella over his head. you’re breathing practically stops all together.

im. so. fucked.

the stinging of the cuts on you’re hands is nothing compared to the fear you feel when staring up at someone so.. well.. scary. you’ve heard all the rumours. Asmo is.. no joke. and here you are, on the ground by his feet, like a sac of potatoes.

life has a very fucked up sense of humour..