In short, hell is no longer a destination. Alonso is already there.

     "And here we go".

     The bag is violently dropped onto the floor of some foreign building. On the outside, a group of greedy pigs awaits their new merchandise. From Alonso's perspective, the light at the end of the tunnel has finally revealed itself. Once he sees the opening he immediately tries to run out of there, but due to his legs being chained together he has to dig his nails into the ground to crawl out. 

     "He looks like a goddamn snail!"

     Unfortunately, that description wasn't far off from reality. Alonso's fingers are completely red by the point he peaks his head out of the damp bag. Due to the physical and mental beating he just took, Alonso doesn't even bother looking at his surroundings. Realistically, he has no chance of escape. However, that doesn't stop him from dragging himself towards freedom.

     His abductors joke and mock him. They point their chubby fingers at him and laugh their asses off at the little boy.

     Right now, the only noise that Alonso hears is a high-pitched shriek at the back of his ears. He can feel this noise course throughout his brain and the very back of his ears. Any loud noises only amplify the banshee in his head and with the men howling like hyenas, the pain is unbearable. Although for the moment, he can't feel anything.

     The pitiful little boy crawls forward, or what seems to be forward. Right now, Alonso can only see red. Not since all he wants to do is kill these men, not that he has the guts to do so, but the blood has dried over his eyelids. Causing him to only see patches of the outside world. Maybe, this turned out to be a good thing. Even though death, gore, and overall destruction every day---that doesn't mean he's emotionally and spiritually ready to face the world in all of its cruelty.

     After what felt like a lifetime Alonso finally begins to regain some notion of the situation he's in. 

     Where am I? What happened? Who are these people? What do they want? Is this all of my blood? What's going on? What's that on my ankles? W-why am I in so much pain!?

     With no warning, Alonso begins to scream out in pain. A tsunami of memories from the past couple of hours drown him. With those memories, the pain also becomes very real. A mixture of drool and blood leaks from the side of his lips and drips onto the floor. Each and every movement now feels like he's taking a swim in lava.

     The pigs that surround him stop smiling and just scowl at him. They talk amongst themselves and finally one approaches Alonso.

     "Shut up!"

     The man grabs Alonso by the ankles and flips him upwards. He blinks multiple times but he still can't manage to clear his vision. That is until one of the men grabs a bottle of alcohol and pours it over his head. Alonso instantly shouts in pain and scratches at his eyes. 

     Of course, the men laugh at his anguish. If there was a positive to that, it was that the alcohol did wash away the dried blood.  The negative? Now Alonso's face feels like the devil's personal playground.

     "C'mon kid, that wasn't so bad", the man who poured the alcohol chuckles, "Here, lemme clean you up". The old, bald, and perverted man begins to clean the boy's face with a piece of dirtied cloth. After he's done, he can't help but giggle like some sort of child.

     "I can already tell he's gonna sell for a lot".

     Sell? What does he mean, sell? Who is he? W-why is he smiling like that?

     The old man stands up, "Put him in the cages, we've still got two days until the next auction. Make sure he's well-fed and taken care of, okay?"

     Auction? What? W-WAIT WHERE ARE THEY TAKING ME!? STOP!

     Alonso's lips flap but nothing comes out except a quiet shout for help. Without any strength or that fire in his eyes, the men are easily able to lift his limp body and take it for a stroll. Alonso desperately scans the building for any exits but to his despair, he sees none. All he sees is a long hallway with cages on both sides. Inside of those cages are people of all ages. Some look used to their surroundings, their eyes have faded into a dull color. Some, just like Alonso, look around in fear and confusion. 

     "Here we go!"

     The men finally stop in front of a cage. One of the men, a tall fellow grabs the set of keys from his pants and opens the cell. With that, they toss the child in with no regard to his safety. 

     Alonso lands on the concrete with a loud thud. The men snicker and giggle like girls as they walk away. The little boy watches them until they're completely out of sight. But not out of mind. 

     "What's up?"

     Alonso hears the voice but doesn't react to it. Instead, he constricts himself into a fetus-like position and just stares into oblivion. The fire that tells him to keep fighting has died out and all the little boy wants to do is go to sleep for a long, long time. 

     His cellmate is a young boy of the same age. His hair hasn't been cut in years and his body is covered in years of ash. His clothes are many sizes too big for him but that doesn't seem to bother him. In fact, none of this seems to bother him. Despite all the disgusting acts against humanity that surround him, he doesn't seem alarmed at all.

     "Oh, they broke you", he sighs, "That's boring, I was hoping they could give me somebody fun to play with".

     Finally, Alonso slightly tilts his head to face his cellmate. Through the corner of his eye, Alonso can see the smirk his cellmate has.

     "Oh!" he laughs, "Never mind then, you're already doing better than some of the other people they brought in here, good for you".

     Alonso doesn't say a word.

     "Then again, you do look a bit more beat up than the others", he inches closer, dragging his bloody knees as he does, "Do you want me to take those chains off?"

     The best Alonso can do at the moment is a small nod.

     The cellmate gives him a thumbs up and drags himself towards Alonso's ankles. With his thin fingers, he begins to play around with the chains. 

     Alonso twitches when he feels his cellmate's ringers graze his injuries. He bites his lip and looks anywhere but at the source of his pain. 

     Suddenly---

     "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!"

     Alonso finally manages to squeeze out a full sentence, albeit he sounds like an old man scraping sandpaper against this throat. Or in this case, a banshee with an extremely sore throat.

     The scared boy flops away from his cellmate and stares him dead in the eyes. It takes a couple of painful attempts until he's able to speak.

     "W-w...what are you doing?"

     "Oh, well I saw your ankle was like a squishy ball, so I poked it".

     Alonso tries to form a scowl, "W-what? Why?"

     His cellmate shrugs, "I dunno", he innocently says, "I just sorta felt like it".

     Alonso tries to control his breathing, but with the combination of the situation itself and the glimmer of...something in his cellmate's eyes, he just can't. His heart drops even further than before, each time his heart beats a small sensation of dread spreads through his body. 

     Even on the floor anybody could tell Alonso is bigger in every way but from the way his cellmate glares at him, it's hard to tell who's the dominant one in this relationship. 

     "Also", the cellmate says, interrupting Alonso's inner monologue, "I lied, I can't do anything about that lock. I'm not that strong!"

     For some reason, he begins to laugh at his, "joke?"

     "Oi! Marco, time to work!"

     A deep voice from down the hall calls out, immediately shutting everyone up. Any screams or cries for help are nullified by the voice. The people who were crying for their god sprint back towards the wall. Complete and utter silence fills the hallway.

     The cellmate, Marco, cracks his knuckles.

     "Well, I gotta go", he walks past Alonso, "If you're still here when I'm back, let's talk. You look a bit more interesting than the other guys".

     The tall man from before walks into the hallway and stops at their cell. He unlocks it and leads Marco away. Before he completely leaves the hallway, he gives Alonso a smug smile. Whatever plans he has for the little boy, they aren't family-friendly. 

     As soon as the man leaves, everybody continues their wailing. Alonso would join them, but unfortunately, he doesn't have that luxury. Instead, he takes deep, shaky breaths to try and calm himself. He tenses his entire body---then relaxes. He does this a couple of times until he feels ready to face reality. 

     I can't believe I panicked this badly. C'mon dude, you've gotta do better than this.

     When he opens his eyes, the light has finally returned. A faint light, but light nevertheless. 

     Okay, okay...damn, my head hurts, he squeezes his eyes, don't think about that right now. Analyze the information given to you, take it all in. What did mom say before?

     In his mind, a mental image of his mother appears. But---

             Wait, how does she look like again?

     The image in his mind begins to distort. 

                                                                                                       She has black hair, right? No, it was blonde...

     Agacia fades away, only leaving a black hole in his mind.

                                                        I forgot how my own mother looked like.

                                          If that can happen to me, does she remember how I look like?

                                                             Does she even want to come back?

     Alonso shakes his head, "No, don't think of that right now. Just focus on how to get out of here". Once again, he scans his surroundings. 

     The air within the building is filthy. The sun that does manage to shine through the windows illuminates the amount of dust in the room. The constant screaming and crying make the room feel like an indoor jungle. In short, the room isn't much better than the bag Alonso was stuffed in.

     "That looks like it hurts".

     The gentle voice comes from the cell right beside his. Alonso carefully moves his neck to face whoever said those words. When he does, he lets out a sigh of relief.

     "Don't take this the wrong way", his voice slowly becomes more fluid, "But I'm so happy you look normal".

     The person he speaks to, a young girl, smiles, "I'm happy to hear that", she looks at his ankles, "How'd they get you?"

     "I-I can't remember yet. Everything happened way too fast. I-I think this was my own fault", Alonso looks at her, "I'm sorry if I come off as dense---but what exactly is this place?"

      Her face hardens, "An auction house".

     "A-auction? Like, like for slaves and stuff?"

     She nods.

     Alonso understands immediately, "How long you've been here for?"

     "I was captured four days ago", she scowls, "I didn't listen to my parents and wandered towards the Northern Mound. Gah, I'm so stupid!"

     Alonso cringes at her sudden explosion of emotion. 

     "Oh, sorry. You're probably in a lot of pain right now".

     "No, no you're fine".

     "Especially after your encounter with Marco. Jeez, I've only been here four days but I can already tell he's a nutcase. Maybe he belongs in a place like this", she immediately smacks her lips, "What am I saying, I'm just being rude at this point".

     "Marco, huh? So, what's up with him?"

     "From what I've heard he's the only permanent resident of this place", she says, a hint of sadness in her voice, "And well, you can assume what his main job here is...anyways, just in the past two days, he's brutally beaten up four people that were tossed into that cell. It seems he took pity on you since you were already injured".

     Alonso nods, "Well, how nice of him", he pauses, "...has anybody tried to escape in the past two days?"

     She nods, "Yeah, but", she points towards the hallway. Since Alonso was carried he couldn't see what was underneath him. But now, he sees what was hidden from him. Perhaps, that was for the best.

     The floor of the hallway is painted red. Little chunks of what was a human now lie on the floor. Alonso tears himself away and exhales to relax.

     "Okay, so it won't be easy".

     "Well, your positive attitude will get you places. Probably not out of here, though".

     Alonso can't help but scowl, "So you're just planning on staying here until you're sold like cattle?"

     The girl can't help but be a bit shocked at the sudden change of attitude. She looks away from him and towards the hallway. Her eyes settle on a circular object, one that once belonged to a skull.

     "What do you expect me to do? Maybe if I get sold off to a kind gentleman I can escape from him", she ponders, "I'm not strong enough to break these bars and I'm not dumb enough to get killed right now, either".

     "So you're just going to wait and hope for the best?"

     "Well, yeah?"

     "What's your name?"

     "...Lisa".

     "Okay, Lisa", Alonso squirms towards her, "Listen here. You look like a nice person and even if I do forget about you someday, I won't be able to today. So, I'm giving you a chance to escape with me. Sound good?"

     Lisa is stunned by his sudden statement. So shocked that she doesn't even realize she's laughing until she's crying her eyes out. 

     "Don't take this the wrong way", she wipes away tears, "But there's no way in hell you're making it out of here, at least not without being bought".

     "Last chance", Alonso states.

     Lisa looks into this boy's eyes. Just a couple of minutes ago he looked as if here were about to piss his pants and cry for his mommy. Now, he looks ready to take on the world. 

     She scoffs, "Sure, why not".

     "Happy to hear it".

     "So, what's your first step to freedom?"

                                                    Alonso can't help but smile, "Watch this".