The last thing I remember was being pushed down a hole.

I was inspecting said hole because it had appeared in my back yard where it hadn’t been before. I dropped a large rock in it… I never heard it land. Next thing I knew, a pair of hands hit me square in the back, and then, I was tumbling head long into the hole I had been inspecting. I must’ve knocked my head pretty hard, because when I woke up I couldn’t see the hole, I could barely see a thing at all. So now, my eyes have adjusted, I’m on this mattress and this whole tunnel of junk, and that’s how I got all the way down here.

The short eleven year old boy in orange pajamas stretched as he finished his story to his new audience, which consisted of an ugly old rat, a fish skeleton, and a dead cat. Standing up, he smoothed back his dark brown hair, and squinted at the fork in the tunnel of broken junk.

“I could go left...” The boy told himself, “Or right. Both tunnels are dark and creepy, so I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

The boy looked over both tunnels for a few moments before turning left.

“I’ll go left,” he shrugged, “left is always right.”

Deeper and deeper the boy ventured into the tunnel, dark pressing hungrily upon him, smothering life’s light, all warmth, all joy. The boy's face remained unperturbed as he cautiously walked beside moist objects underneath his bare feet.

But then the darkness spoke.

“What foolish wretch dares enter my territory?” The booming voice hissed.

The boy stopped, staring blankly in the direction the voice had come from.

“I’m not a wretch.” He said, seemingly unoffended, “I’m a child, I fell down a hole.”

“State your name child.” The voice demanded.

“Boy.” He shrugged, “I think… that’s what most people call me. I prefer to be called Navy”

The ground trembled as an enormous monstrosity moved forward. It’s grotesque face covered in patches of black mold, its brown eyes were coated in cataracts, bulging, yellowed, and bloodshot. The thing sneered, revealing craggy rotten fangs.

“You say you fell down a hole Navy boy?” The thing smirked, its breath was foul like the inside of a septic tank. But Navy’s passive face didn’t even twitch.

“So what’s your name...sir?” Navy asked politely.

“I am Sorren, the lord of the Underearth Realm.” The foul thing boomed, standing tall. “I own everything and everyone here.”

Sorren summoned a ball of purple light, illuminating his grotesque features and hollow face. Those glazed eyes were alight with a hungry sort of greed that would send shivers up any man's spine.

But not Navy. He just stared curiously up at Sorren with his big dark blue eyes.

“So is Navy your real name?” Sorren snickered.

“Does it matter?” Navy asked, “Either way, I like my name. Navy is my favourite color of blue.”

“If you like blue so much why are your clothes orange?” Sorren asked.

“They aren’t orange,” Navy blinked, “they’re blue.”

Sorren blinked, perplexed by this answer.

“I am neither color blind nor a fool.” He scoffed, his lips twisting back into a sneer. “Your clothes are orange.”

“I am also neither color blind or a fool.” Navy replied in his same passive tone, “I want blue pajamas, so I say they are blue.”

“That’s not how that works,” Sorren huffed, growing rather irritated, “color is the way light breaks up and reflects off objects. You cannot change the color of an object by simply saying it’s a different color.”

“But blue and orange are just words,” Navy shrugged, “it honestly doesn’t matter if it’s said one way or the another, for it is simply a shift in perspective.”

“The way you see things doesn't change the way the world is.” Sorren growled.

“Of course it does,” Navy said, “perspective changes what the real world is to you.”

Sorren clenched and unclenched his fists, this child was obviously not listening, and didn’t understand that reality was a harsh cold world, where only the powerful and elite reigned supreme, and those too weak and idiotic to realize that floundered... or perhaps he did and was simply denying the facts and replacing them with such opinionated fantasies.

Sorren felt he had to teach the young boy right, it wasn’t something Sorren just did, he didn’t particularly worry for the boy, the boy belonged to him now, and Sorren always made sure to take great care of his belongings.

“I think I’ll keep you,” Sorren chuckled, “you’re quite amusing.”

“But I want to go home.” Navy stated bluntly, “I fell down here by accident remember? You really need to listen better.”

Sorren ears twitched, Navy was surely just scared to be in a new place. Although his face and tone had remained uncannily passive for the whole conversation. But a young child such as him must’ve certainly been incredibly intimidated by how grand Sorren was. It wasn’t unusual for children that age to act stronger than they were, it was all part of their ignorance to the real world.

“Why don’t I at least give you a look around before you decide to leave?” Sorren offered, smiling softly in order to seem a little less harsh, men of his stature often came off as cold and hard headed, but Sorren knew how to speak with common folk.

“But if I still want to go home, will you let me?” Navy asked.

“Of course.” Sorren said, hiding his irritation, not only from Navy’s persistence but also his complete lack of reaction.

Sorren extended a huge grime coated clawed hand, Navy took it without hesitation or change of expression. His hand was so small compared to Sorren’s, he was only able to hold on to the middle of Sorren’s first two fingers. Sorren guided Navy through a perilously stacked horde of bones, jewelry, toys, and a host of other old decrepit items crawling with rats and insects. Whenever there were particularly muddy stretches in the tunnel, Sorren would pick Navy up in case there were any sharp objects hidden underneath that would cut the boy’s feet. A child so naïve and fragile would surely die from infection if cut by the hidden dangers.

Navy’s expression remained as unreadable as always, as if he was far off in another land, but his eyes were sharp, clear, and alert. The contrast of this expression made Sorren greatly uncomfortable, it was like the look a child's parents gave when they were waiting for the truth. Sorren tried his best to stare directly ahead, ignoring those burrowing blue eyes.

Soon, Sorren brought Navy to an enormous city of stacked junk and garbage, wet mud sagging dangerously under the weight of the sheer amount of it. The makeshift houses gave off a dull luminescence, cutting the pressing darkness ever so slightly. Nothing in the repulsive city compared to the towering castle however, a hideous heaping marvel of trash. It must have had some sort of support underneath the masses of animal bones, toy husks, and empty food containers. Patches of multicoloured mold snaked around the place, and what the inside could have possibly looked like was beyond anyone’s guess.

Despite its revolting appearance, Sorren gazed upon the mess with an expression of utmost smugness and pride as if the castle were made of the finest wood and the mold of silver trim. Sorren shot a sideways glance at Navy as if expecting him to be envious. But as always, the boy remained unreadable.

Creatures similar to Sorren fought amongst the muck, diving for stray cans and doll heads with manic desperation, it was only then Navy’s expression changed in the slightest, he seemed mildly confused at the squabbling things. Sorren stamped his foot and snarled at the creatures, who quickly scattered. It irked Sorren that the others had distracted Navy, now he was looking around at the other creatures rather than Sorren castle. Sorren gave Navy a slight nudge to urge him to move along. Only a few moments later did they both stop again. A small creature, maybe only a little smaller than Navy, had grabbed hold of the boy’s pajama sleeve, stroking the material longingly.

Sorren gave a low growl, trying to pull Navy back, the other beasts were too unpredictable, and could seriously hurt the young child. But the young thing didn’t react, she was in awe with Navy’s simple orange pajamas. Navy didn’t recoil, he left his arm up so the young beast could still hold on without pulling his arm too hard.

“Do you like that?” Navy asked softy, his tone sympathetic.

The creature nodded, staring at Navy’s sleeve as if it were made of gold.

Navy patted her hand, gently brushing it off, he then slipped out of his shirt. Sorren shook his head in disbelief, what was the boy expecting? He wouldn't receive any back but being exposed to the harsh cold of the underground world. Navy handed the small beast his shirt, and for the first time, smiled, a warm heartfelt smile.

“You can have it.” He said, “I’m sure you need it more than I do.”

The young beast looked at Navy, very slowly taking the pajama shirt as if expecting him to snatch it back from her. Once she had it, she paused, then bolted off, Sorren facepalmed.

“Now you’re going to be cold.” He groaned, “At least she’s used to it, you could freeze to death.”

Navy shrugged, expression once again, unreadable. Sorren rolled his eyes, Navy was beginning to be extraordinarily irritating. It reminded Sorren of someone he once cared for, who had given his coat to a poor child in the middle of winter, he had gotten sick, as all he had on underneath was a simple t-shirt. Navy was like that child, and just like said child, he didn’t know any better.

Going inside the castle revealed it to be just as horrendous as the outside, it was simply a little more organised. Bones lined the walls like one is, upside down cardboard and plastic containers mimicked tile floors, it was simply a mess. Sorren looked down at Navy expectantly. Navy was looking around placidly, and yawned. Now whether the yawn was out of boredom or simply just exhaustion, only Navy would know, because Sorren took it as an insult.

“I take you to my city,” Sorren hissed, “out of the kindness of my heart, and you’re just being an ungrateful little-”

“I only wish to go home,” Navy said calmly, “I told you that at the very beginning.You need to open your eyes, and listen better.”

Sorren was breathing heavily, nostrils flaring, eyes burning with rage. He took deep breaths, and slicked back his oily brown hair. He refused to lose his cool because of some selfish insolent brat. He had a plan… one that would make Navy have to stay.

“Fine,” Sorren said silkily, “but we need to play a game first, you win, I’ll let you go, you lose, you’re mine!”

Navy nodded placidly, Sorren twitched when they made eye contact, it was still impossible to read Navy’s expression, it was as if that small little face was permanently passive and blank, it was uncanny...Sorren ignored the shiver that prickled up his spine, and lead Navy to a large room in the castle basement. There were two rather nice looking doors side by side at the end of the room. It looked like a sort of gladiator ring.

“The game is simple,” Sorren sneered. “behind one door, is a pack of rabid wolves, and behind the other, is a starved lion. You fight one, and win, I’ll let you go.”

Sorren superseded a laugh as Navy looked at each door back and forth. Then Navy, in his rare change of expression, gave Sorren the snarkiest ‘Seriously?’ expression his little baby face could muster.

“You expect me,” he rephrased, “an eleven year old, to fight two kinds of apex predators, one of which will gladly have me as a midnight snack, while a pack of them are barking mad?”

“It all depends on your perception of reality,” Sorren shrugged mockingly, congratulating himself for his clever trap, “you could call it quits, and stay.”