"I had a dream, you know... of noodles... The actual dough noodles... It was loooong and hot."
The boy spoke through a hoarse voice that was barely audible, his face all bruised up. There was nobody to talk to, since the boy was a loner afterall. But there was a response.
"...What did it taste like?"
The boy closed his eyes for a moment, trying to reminisce about the taste.
"Like... when you lick metal... Ah, that's just my blood."
Bright red blood trailed down his cheeks from his mouth. He let out a pained groan, an ugly mixture between a cry and furious rage.
The boy lay sprawled on the muddy ground. Sweat trailed down his anxious face and mixed with the blood from his broken nose and teeth.
The voice slid through again.
"…You can't stay down here."
Zoey breathed slowly, eyes half closed. "Yeah, yeah, Pete. I hear you."
His broken nails scratched against the pavement until they found a small stone. He turned it over in his palm and grinned.
"Can't die yet, can I? Not before lunch."
Where did it all go wrong?
It all started when two rag tag kids were sitting on a wooden fence, which was placed between a broad and rough road and a flat desecrated land, filled with trash and wastage as far as the eye could see.
Well, most eyes. Not theirs though. People like them could barely afford to feed themselves, let alone take good care of their health and eyesight.
A river was flowing down the way through the flat land. It's surface grey and murky with waste floating on top.
The road led to a tall gate surrounded by dark grey walls on all sides. The gate itself was eerie and ominous, with an inescapable like darkness nested behind it.
There were colourful flashing lights escaping from the tall walls frequently, lighting up the grey skies once in a while. It was as if happiness was promised on the other side with no worries, struggles or strife.
But no, of course not. You'd be a fool to think of such a thing. Want happiness? Well, go get a stimulant or something. Nothing's free.
Anyways, back to our conversation.
"Come on, this is an easy one."
Zoey looked at Peter's general direction expectantly, waiting for him to answer.
"Really? Easy one? Your questions rarely have an easy answer."
Zoey chuckled as he started unwrapping a bag of bread with small patches of Mold here and there. Throwing a furtive glance at the crows above. As if responding, the crows cawed back at him.
"I'll be disappointed if you cannot answer this one, Peter. Even our distinguished guests here can answer it."
Peter raised an eyebrow, which promptly hid behind his muddy hair.
"He can?"
They both slowly turned their heads towards a... well fed... man. He was sprawled on the road to his side, struggling to break free from the ropes tying his hands and legs together.
He made a muffled scream, trying to communicate through the cloth lodged into his mouth.
"I believe he's trying to say, 'I'll kill you both the moment I get out of these ropes!' but, I don't think that's the answer, Zoey."
Zoey tilted his head with a thoughtful expression.
"No no, he definitely said 'Please kick me in my family jewels. I am currently aroused by two beautiful teenagers and need a form of relief.' Should we help him out?"
The man paled and proceeded to slowly bring his knees to his stomach. Which wasn't quite difficult, considering how far his belly was protruding from his body. He flinched, feeling the rope tighten around his wrists and ankles. Suddenly, the man felt like he didn't want to participate in this conversation any longer.
"Well, I never said he would answer correctly."
Peter sighed, giving up what tiny hope he had of the man answering one of Zoey's philosophical questions correctly.
"Alright then, let me guess, it's money, isn't it? The key to greatest powers, whatever it may be?"
"Hmm... Close but not quite. Two chances left. Would you like to try again?"
"No, I wouldn't."
Zoey grinned so wide that his yellow teeth started to show, and two slits appeared across his cheeks to accommodate space for a huge smile.
"The answer is madness. Anyone can be wealthy, but wealthy and powerful? It's logically impossible to be both without madness. That's just how it is."
Peter looked at Zoey, then rolled his eyes and leaned back.
"Uhuh right. Then by your logic, we should be filthy rich by now and have those big "burgers" in the posters. Since, you know. We always end up doing something crazy because of you."
Zoey threw his head back and burst into laughter. Then he had a coughing fit. His broken body wasn't really built for laughing.
His left ribs especially hurt, since that was where he was kicked by the esteemed guest. He replied to Peter in a stifled voice.
"Well, who knows? Only time will tell. One day we could go from mining all day, straight to having our own soft beds with a big room temperature controller for us to sleep in."
Peter brought a palm to his face and sighed. "Your idea is stupid. Imagine how much more rations we could buy instead of a soft bed."
Zoey chuckled lightly and shook his head. The man on the ground seemingly got scared by his laugh and shook a little bit.
"Once again, you're missing the point my dear friend Peter. Oh well, you will get it eventually."
He then got off the fence, deciding that he didn't have the appetite for his Mold of bread for now.
He wrapped it back carefully, but not before hesitating and tearing off a small piece.
Peter let out a frustrated groan, suspecting that this whole charade of Zoey's is just a way to tease him.
"Aaargh... What point is there to even miss?! You don't make any sense!"
Zoey chuckled and untied the loose end of the rope which held the highly distinguished man to the fence and threw it over his shoulder. This way he'll be able to drag him with ease.
The heavy man protested by squirming like a worm. He did not like the idea of his expensive garment being dragged across the bare road. Tears welled up in his eyes, as he made a whimpering sound of plea.
Zoey looked back and gave him a polite smile, he then responded with a hint of subdued mockery in his voice.
"Don't worry Mr. Plump! We have already taken all the precious stones out of your pockets and garments while you were sleeping like a log here. There won't be a single scratch on them. You can trust us!"
For some odd reason, Mr. Plump did not trust them at all. Zoey continued regardless.
"Plus, we were even considerate enough to leave you with your clothes on for a comfortable ride back home."
Peter quietly scoffed and muttered under his breath.
"The only reason you left him with clothes on is because we can't sell them in the market since it's too conspicuous."
Zoey looked at his wrist and made a panicked expression, acting as if the numbered strap on it was an expensive wristwatch.
"Goodness! look at the time already. We've really got to get going before we get penalized."
Zoey didn't understand why, but rich people liked to look at their wrist and tell the time a lot, even though such a thing was useless, since time was just segmented to everyone as units.
Peter tilted his head slightly and asked him. "And what time is it, if I may ask?"
Looking towards the insurmountable walls, Zoey grinned. "You sure may. It's time to get our l-long awaited rewards."
"You just stuttered."
"What?! No, what would I stutter for?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe you're scared to meet him?"
Zoey stayed silent for a while. He then gritted his teeth and responded in a subdued tone. "I'm just excited. Matter of fact, I'm so excited that I'm getting cold feet at this very moment."
Peter and Zoey both laughed as they made their way to the walls.