[Warning: Contains graphic content. Reader discretion advised.]
The hatchback slowed as it approached an enormous wooden sign above a large, poorly made steel gate. Kuro leaned forward, eyes already pressed to the window.
"Welcome to Greyman," he read aloud from the sign as they passed through the gate.
"Neat sign your city has" Kuro said. "Though I'm not that excited to be living here."
The driver rolled his eyes. "Then why are ya here in the first place? I can do everyone a favor and take ya back if you want."
Kuro kept his gaze outside, his eyes dulling at the offer. "If only that was an option."
He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and read it aloud. "G-M 3rd Street. House number 10A. You know where that is? Since we're finally here, might as well tell you my designated location."
The driver's eyes widened slightly. "Wow, kid, you hit the jackpot. Third Street's got some of the best houses in the whole city. Your folks must be big shots if they found you a home there."
Kuro didn't respond. His eyes had locked onto something outside—a massive bronze statue, easily fifteen meters tall. It depicted a man in overalls, grinning widely at the sky with a straw hat perched on his head. At his right side stood a small bronze sheep. To his left, a larger statue of a pig. A tag at the base read: Philemon Vasiliki.
But it was the detail on the man's right cheek that caught Kuro's attention: a number, etched into the metal. 222.
"Hey, Mr. Driver," Kuro asked, still staring, "what's with that statue? And that number on his cheek? That name sounds... familiar."
A smirk crept across the driver's face. "That, my friend, is the man himself. Philemon Vasiliki. Founder of the Greyfly and—well—the whole damn Greyman City."
Kuro tapped his forehead. "The guy I was reading about earlier. The magic bug fairy tal—"
He stopped.
His eyes caught something horrifying.
A small brick house along the road. One wall was missing. Inside—
A pile of corpses. Men, stacked like firewood.
Their heads poorly severed and placed beside them in another small, gruesome hill. For four seconds, Kuro couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't even blink. It felt like an eternity.
As the car passed the scene, air finally rushed back into his lungs. He whipped his head around to look back. Men in full-body leather suits stood around the house. Their helmets had no openings—only glass patches for the eyes, and long tubes connected to reservoirs strapped to their backs.
Something rose in Kuro's throat. He slapped a hand over his mouth, willing himself not to vomit.
'What the hell was that? Was it even real?'
He looked to the driver, who seemed entirely unfazed. His focus was on something else,one of the leather men in front of the car, on his way to the scene, walking on the left side of the road, before the hatchback could pass him,he raised his hand signalling the driver to stop moving.
"Tell me you saw that!"he said while the leather man walked closer and closer to the car 'I'm certain it was real But... something like that...heads brutaly cut off....it can't be real-' as kuro was still in thought the driver spoke
"Use your right hand kid" kuro looked at the driver in disbelief,did he even care?,'use your right hand?, The hell?, You should be talking about those dead men,' . The leather man was right outside kuro's window, staring at him,....or at least that's what it looked like
He tapped the window. Three times....and the driver rolled down kuro's window, 'what in the world is? what does this guy want'. The leather man pulled out a piece of paper and a pen,and extended it to kuro
"take it" the driver said, again kuro wondered what was going on,but for some reason he trusted the words of the bald man who was driving him and he took the pen and paper.
The leather man sticked his head in the car window,his head only inches from kuro's, "Name" the man said...."full name", kuro hesitantly took the pen by his left hand,
As he was about to write his name, the driver coughed, kuro swore the coughsounded fake and perhaps it was, but none the less, kuro remembered 'use your right hand? ',he switched and held the pen in his right hand.
Poorly,he managed to write his name.
He gave the paper and pen back to the leather man,the leather man looked at kuro,then at the paper, after a while
he walked away to group up with the others.
Kuro felt a mixture of fear and confusion he was a little shaken, it was written on his face
The driver scoffed. "Ha! You people's reactions are always priceless. One of the reasons I love this job—watching folks like you freak out when they see the cleanup crew."
Kuro's eyes widened. "Cleanup? You mean this kind of thing happens often?"
"Yeah, but don't worry, kid. You'll get used to it after a month or two. Though, that cleanup was brutal. They're usually just one or two bodies. Guess those guys were pretty terrible people to get offed like that."
Kuro stared at him, stunned. "Usually? As in... this is normal to you people?! What are you, primitive beasts? What human would do that to another human? This is normalized?!" 'what the hell is wrong with this place'
He expected answers.
But he got something else.
The driver pulled up to a fairly nice house and stopped the car.
"Hey, kid." He turned around, smiling for the first time. "We're here."
"Welcome to your new home, Mr. Paddington."