#monsterworld

It was a quiet night. Only sounds that you could hear were the rain outside, the grandfather clock ticking its time and the burning wood in the fireplace. Sorriso enjoyed these evenings. They were rare at these times. The university has been buzzing with stressed out students and teachers, and it didn’t help that the gangs in the city were at war with each other again. Every day he’d hear those grotesque tales of how someone’s uncle had been skinned alive or how a gang member was chopped to pieces and fed to the cannibals. The tension was all around the school, nobody wanted to hear those stories, and yet they always listened, and spread them further, like rats spreading a disease. Those stories should bother him. But they didn’t. Sorriso didn’t care.

He knew nobody from those stories. Sure, he knew the students, but that’s their grief, not his. He was just the teacher, not the shoulder to cry on when things get bad. He had enough work as it was.

He sighed and looked down on the papers that had been spread across his desk. The test season was on its peak and everyone wanted to get their grades as soon as possible. He didn’t mind grading these papers, but over the years, he had started to wonder if this really was all he was going to do with life. It’s been 7 years since he started at the University, and every day has been more or less the same. Teaching students, grading their papers, making pointless small talk with other teachers, go home and repeat. It was dull and boring, but it was all life he had.

That is until the doorbell rang.

This was odd, since nobody in the university in Sorriso’s knowlege, knew where he lived. He didn’t talk to his neighbors since they didn’t talk to him, and the mail already came today, and it would be a weird time for a package. He looked through the window and saw someone standing on his door. The figure was fairly tall, and was swaying slightly when standing. ‘Must be a drunk asking a way home’, Sorriso thought and sighed. Well, at least something was happening.

He got up and walked to the door. He tried looking through the peephole, but couldn’t see the figure clearly enough, so he opened the door.

In front of him was a tall man, almost as tall as Sorriso himself, leaning on his doorway. Dark, curly wet hair covered half of his face, and the other half had smudged makeup and dried blood all over, running down on his black beard and throat, which appeared to have a scar that went all around his neck. His clothes were dark purple and black, and his showing eye was piercing gold, with an iris that resembled a cat’s. It took Sorriso a moment to recognize who he was.

Zorion. The self-claimed king of crime, the one who started the crime war, and held the reputation in most cops he has corrupted onto his side. He was told to be ruthless, sadistic maniac who’s favorite passtime was to torture the poor devils who crossed him.

He had met him once before, by accident in a bar. Tho at the time he didn’t know anything about Zorion, and wasn’t aware that he’s the person you want to stay far away from if you wish to stay alive.

‘And now he’s at my doorstep.’

Zorion was breathing heavily, and at that point Sorriso noticed the man was holding his side in pain, and something dark was soaking through his clothes. 

He had been stabbed. 

“Sorry to barge in so late…didn’t know where else to go..” Zorion whispered through the pain before collapsing. Sorriso was quick to respond and caught him, and pulled him inside from the rain. He’d worry what to do with the criminal later. For now, he knew he had to stop the bleeding. 

‘But why should I be the one to save him?’ Sorriso thought to himself. ‘We’re only met once and honestly it’d be better for the city if he was dead.’

He looked at the mess of a man. He had been hurt, and he came to this house, far from the city center via foot, just because nobody else would’ve helped him? What about his minions? Employees? Allies? Were they all dead? Or were they so unreliable that if the boss was hurt, they’d finish the job themselves? So the best ally at this time was the man he got drunk with once at a bar?

It was sad, really. Sorriso shook his head and carried the man on to the couch and laid him there.