Origin of Chaos: Legend of The Red Tiger

Huff!

Huff!

   "I-I… can't lift it anymore… I'm too tired…". A young boy with spiky brown hair muttered, panting heavily.

   His body was severely malnourished, with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes. His limbs were incredibly thin, and he looked more like a skeleton than an actual person.

   The only piece of clothing around his body was a tattered knicker, leaving his upper body bare, revealing the deep scar on his back. 

    Hung around his ankles were two thick shackles, each connected by a heavy black chain.

   The shackles had small, sharp spikes in between them, which kept poking him whenever he walked, and his legs profusely bled from the wounds.

  In his bony hands was a thick black and green box, which kept oozing out a strange green gas.

   There were other slaves like him in the room, some even in worse shape than him.  Nonetheless, no one bothered to glance his way, simply going about their own business while shaking their head in fear and pity. 

Bam!

   The box slowly slipped from his bloodied hands, falling to the ground with a loud bang, which echoed in the air.

   Although the box didn't look too heavy, each one weighed about 100kg, which was a lot more than the boy could carry with his exhausted body.

   "Now what do we have here? A lazy one." A man in bulky grey and black armour said, slowly walking towards the boy.

   His face was covered in a transparent oval helmet, which was meant to protect him from the gas permeating the air.

   "Awww… did you say you're tired?" He muttered, faking an expression of concern.

   "P-please… just… a little water." The boy muttered in a coarse voice, his head facing the ground.

   Although he already knew the man would refuse, his throat was severely dry, and he was growing desperate.

   "Water? You want water even though you haven't finished your work for today?" The man scoffed. 

  "Don't worry… I'll give you a lot of 'water'" He said, his lips curling into a sinister smirk.

   The boy immediately started shivering in fear when he heard his words, however, he couldn't find the confidence to even reply.

   His heart sank even further, as the man pulled out a small baton from the side of his armour.

Blitz!

   The baton crackled with electricity, and from the tip, a thin, jagged whip swiftly bursted out, crackling violently.

    "Yeah… except it'll be my whip drinking, and that water will be your blood!" The man shouted, raising the whip to flog the boy. 

   "Leave him alone." However, just as he was about to swing the whip, a loud voice suddenly reverberated across the room, and the man subconsciously halted.

   "Huh?" He muttered in disbelief, before turning his head to where the voice came from.

   The other slaves standing in the way quickly cleared out, revealing the one who spoke to the man.

   It was an average-height man with short, black hair, and pitch black eyes.

   His eyes locked with the man's, but he didn't falter in the slightest, boldly maintaining his ground. 

   Just like the rest of the slaves, he was severely emaciated, however, his condition was a lot worse than the others.

   His body was riddled with scars, some from burns, electric shocks and other injuries. There wasn't even a dot of clear skin on him, and a good number of the scars were still fresh. 

   His face wasn't excluded either, and an especially prominent scar ran down from his left eyebrow to the side of his chin.

   The shackles around his ankles were almost thrice heavier compared to the others, he also had two thick fetters hung around his wrist, however, there was no chain connecting them.

   Despite the spikes stabbing mercilessly into his body and the small pool of blood around his feet, he appeared unfazed.

   He was carrying three similar black and green boxes, which he held nonchalantly with one hand.

   "How dare…. you?" The armoured man muttered, his body trembling in anger. He tightly clenched his fists, and a low clanking sound echoed in the air, due to the metal armour.

   'He'll attack… anytime now.' The black haired man thought, narrowing his eyes. 

   'He always attack first with his right fist, so all I have to do is move to the side.' He thought, clenching his fist in preparation.

  "A useless dud, try to order me?!" Just as he predicted, the man charged at him, with his right fist pulled back for a punch.

    'Now!' The scarred man thought, swiftly dashing to the side.

   However, his body was just too slow! Despite knowing where the man would attack from, his movements seemed like blurs, and he could barely react to his speed.

Thwack!!

   Within seconds, the armoured man closed in on him, delivering a powerful punch to his abdomen.

   'Shit!' The scarred man thought, as his body was sent flying, with blood spraying out of his mouth.

Bam!

   The boxes in his hand scattered on the ground, and his body bounced repeatedly on the ground, before finally coming to a halt at the other end.

   'Ugh… I didn't think I'd get hit this time.' He mumbled inwardly, coughing out blood from his mouth. The wounds in his body were already piling up, and he doubted he could survive for a few more months like this.

   'But… I'll live, I need to...' He thought, slowly rising back up on his feet. He wiped off the blood at the corners of his lips, before turning back to the man, with a deep frown on his face.

    "Ohh, that punch would have drilled a hole in any other slave, but look at you, getting back up like it's nothing." The armoured man said, his brows furrowing into an annoyed frown.

   "I can understand why you're treated 'specially', You really are something, aren't you… Alexander."

***

Kindly support this novel by sending power stones and golden tickets, I'll really appreciate it. Also, don't forget to drop reviews, so I'll know your thoughts on the story.