Chapter Text
July 20th, 20XX
0645
Regto had never considered himself “a part” of the Tribesfolk. Sure he had lived his whole life among them, and would die among them as well, but that was about the only connection he really felt. Most Tribesfolk were always gossiping, always pushing others down, always trying to win the favor of the “Rich folk”. It was a mentality Regto never really understood. He much preferred to keep his head down and get by as best he could. That didn’t mean Regto didn’t keep his ears open from time to time. As he went about his days walking around town, he always at least tried to stay alert to the rumors constantly going around between folks. Over the past week a particularly interesting one had been making the rounds.
It all started one night morning when Regto was on his way to work. As he passed through the little market in town, he noticed there were a lot more Apostoles patrolling the area than usual. It seemed everyone was all abuzz about the latest drop into The Pit. He stopped in front of one the stalls where some older men were chattering about the whole incident.
“Did you hear about that Alto Surebrec? It seems he finally went off the deep end.”
“They say he killed half a dozen people, including his own family!”
“I saw him get dropped down into The Pit last night. He looked like he didn’t have even a bit of remorse in those evil eyes of his.”
Regto thought for a moment about their words. He didn’t know Alto very well, but he seemed like a decent guy. Certainly, didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d go on a killing spree, especially against his family. In fact the only thing Regto really remembered about Alto was how much he cared about his family. The few times Regto had spoken with him he always ended up talking about them. Looking back the only time Regto had ever even seen Alto get violent was when some jerks tried attacking his wife when she was pregnant a couple years go.
Regto brushed off the conversation as he continued on his day. But his mind couldn’t let go of what he heard that morning. All throughout the day people were talking about Alto and what he had done. It was hard to tell fact from fiction when it came to Tribesfolk rumors. But the more Regto heard, the more worried he got about the whole thing.
But it wasn’t until the middle of the workday when Regto really started to get concerned. A couple of women nearby were idling chatting about the whole thing. The usual shock of the crime, the horror of those killed, the usual gossip. It wasn’t until they were talking about what was left that Regto tuned in.
“Didn’t you hear, when The Apostles found his wife, his son was alive!”
“I heard he looked him a demon when they found him. Eyes red, blood dripping from his arms, snarling like a wild animal.”
“Evil, just like his father. They should just throw him in The Pit and get it over with already.”
Regto felt a hint of anger inside him when he heard those words, but he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he knew Alto’s son; he had never even met the kid. But he knew he couldn’t have been more than 3 years old. He was just a little kid, and one who went through an intensely traumatic event. Calling him a demon was cold hearted, let alone condemning him to The Pit. He was probably tired and hungry and downright terrified right now. Regto didn’t consider himself much of a caregiver but he could at least see if the boy was alright.
-----
The day was ending; Regto and his coworkers were heading home for the evening. The moon was already climbing up into the night sky. Regto still hadn’t forgotten what he heard about Alto’s son. He wanted to at least check on the kid, but he didn’t have a clue where he might be. Maybe one of his coworkers had a guess.
“Hey,” Asked Regto, trying to be as casual as possible. “You guys heard about Alto and his family?”
“What a monster that guy, at least they dropped his ass in The Pit.” Joked one of them.
“His poor wife, she deserved better.”
Regto tried not to seem too suspicious. “I wonder what they’ll do with his house now that it’s a crime scene.”
“They blocked off the house, but it’s still standing if you wanna check it out.” He pointed South towards the edge of town.
One of Regto’s coworkers elbowed him in jest. “Wanting to get a glimpse of the grisly scene?”
Regto just waved politely and headed off South. With the sun already set it was getting awfully cold out; Regto wrapped his scarf a little tighter around himself. Moving at a brisk pace it wasn’t long until he reached the little shanty house on the edge of the village. There wasn’t a single light on; the whole street was nearly pitch black. All around the perimeter caution tape was hastily stapled up. In the dirt there was still remnants of dried blood scattered around. It really was a grisly sight to behold.
Slowly and carefully, Regto sneaked his way into the one room shack. It was so dark he could barely make out what was right in front of him. Reaching around he found a small candle on the floor which he lit promptly. The whole place was in disarray. Furniture was overturned, objects thrown around the small room. Everywhere smelled of death and rotting food. It was clear that the place had been in rough shape since long before Alto’s killing spree.
“Hello, is anyone here?” Called Regto. “My name is Regto, I promise I’m not here to hurt you.”
At first nothing. No noise, no movement, nothing but stale air in a dark, dank room. Regto kept his head on a swivel, looking all around him. Dirty clothes were strewn about in piles. The walls did nothing to keep out the cold night air; Regto could feel it seeping into his bones. Outside he could hear the usual drunk shouting and people fighting; it sounded so distant from where he was standing. He was surrounded by an eerie lonesomeness, accompanied by nothing but the suffocating stench of a life taken. He was beginning to think perhaps the kid really had been thrown into The Pit alongside Alto.
Just as Regto was getting ready to leave he heard a faint noise. It was so quiet for a moment he thought he was imagining it. A quiet rustle from one of the corners of the room. He turned around with a startle, holding the candle out to try and get a look.
“Who’s there?” Called Regto to the darkness.
As he moved closer to the corner, he began to make out something. Huddled in the corner was the shape of a small child. He was curled with his back against the wall, wrapped in a thin blanket. A mop of dirty white hair poked out from one end of the blanket. It looked more like some kind of stray animal than a human child. Regto slowly stepped closer, trying his best not to make any sudden noises. But it didn’t take long before the child noticed. He bolted upright, letting the blanket wall off his shoulders. What Regto saw in front of him make his heart sink into his stomach.
The child was skin and bones, so thin his shirt was slipping off his shoulders. His whole body was shivering. Whether it was from cold or from fear was anybody’s guest. His face was the only part of him that hadn’t wasted away to nothing; still with a bit of baby fat on his cheeks. Tried tear streaks ran down his face amidst the coating of dirt and blood and grime. Huge red eyes glared with a mix of primal terror and animalistic rage.
But the worst by far was the kids’ arms. From his fingertips to his elbows they were pitch black, almost like burn scars. Lines of oozing blood ran across them in wild patterns. Both hands appeared to be stuck in contractures into the shape of claws. His arms were twitching uncontrollably, making the child grit his teeth every few minutes. It was clear that they were causing him a great deal of pain.
“Are you Alto’s son?” Regto asked, still moving closer.
The child said nothing, just growling like a stray dog. With each step Regto took the growling got a little bit louder. Regto took the hint, stopping about 10 feet away from the child. He didn’t back away or react in any way. Instead he crouched until Regto was nearly eye level with the child.
“Those arms of yours look like they’re in pretty bad shape.” Regto kept his voice as neutral as possible, speaking just loud enough so the child could hear him. “I’d really like to get some bandages on them.”
The child just curled his arms closer to his chest, still gritting his teeth.
Regto paused for a moment, thinking about what to do next. He knew he couldn't let this child stay here in this house. He was either going to freeze or starve or something within a couple days. There was a Tribesfolk orphanage on the West side of the town, but he doubted they'd let him stay there. Even if Regto did manage to get him over there, once they found out he was Alto's son they were sure to kick him out onto the streets. He wouldn't be any better off than if he just stayed here. Regto knew the best thing was to get this kid a good meal, some basic medical care on those arms, and a safe place to sleep. Regto could at least help him with that for a night or two. Everything else could be worked out later.
“I’ve got bandages back at my house. Probably a lot warmer there than in here too.”
Still silence. The child just kept glaring and growling.
After a few minutes Regto reached his hand out towards him. “Look, I can see that you’re hurt right now. And you’re probably confused and scared and angry at the world. I know you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. But if you let me, I’d really like to help you. Do you understand?”
For a long while neither of them moved. In the pitch black and freezing room the two of them just sat and stared at one another. Regto, with kind eyes and as friendly as he could be. And the child, with terrified eyes and as intimidating as he could be. It was a stalemate, with each of them hoping the other would break first.
After what felt like an eternity the child was the one to break first, slowly beginning to let down his guard. The growling quieted and those wide red eyes began to soften. Very slowly, he moved to stand up. It became clear he had been hiding in that corner for a long time; his knees almost gave out the moment he got on his feet. Regto moved to stand as well. Still moving cautiously Regto moved closer until he was right in front of the child. He looked down at the child who had begun shivering violently once more. He took off his scarf and wrapped it around the child’s small frame.
“Can’t have you freezing before we even make it back!” Joked Regto.
Regto’s scarf was so big, and the child was so small it almost covered him up entirely. By the time it was all wrapped around him the child looked like someone had tried to tie him up in a swaddle. The child took the edge of the scarf and began to rub it against his cheek. It wasn’t long before he stopped shivering so much as well. The scarf wasn’t much, but at least it would keep him warmer than that thin old blanket would.
Regto turned around and crouched down once more so his back was facing the child. “It’s a long walk back to my house, here.”
He stayed in that position for a few moments but never felt the child reach for his back. Neither of them spoke the whole time, like they were both frozen in place. Finally Regto turned back around to see the kid just staring at him with a confused look.
“Never had a piggyback ride before?” Joked Regto.
The kid just shook his head no, staring with that same lost look in his eyes.
“Here, you put your hands on my shoulders to hold on. Then when I stand up I put my arms under your legs so I can carry you.”
Regto turned back around, waiting calmly once more. After another minute or two, the kid finally seemed to get the idea. As gently as possible, the child placed his hands on Regto’s shoulders. He winced with pain as he grabbed on but tried his hardest not to let go. Regto figured this was as close as they would get and hiked his arms under the child’s legs. He stood up slowly, making sure the child wasn’t going to go falling off the moment they walked away.
“Alright, let’s get out of here.”
Together the two of them headed out of the shack onto the street. It was awfully late out; the moon was high above them in the sky by now. It had grown quiet; the only thing Regto could hear was his own footsteps along the dirt road and the steady breaths of the child. They walked without any words. After a few minutes Regto wasn’t sure if the child was still awake or not.
“So kid, you got a name?” Asked Regto.
At first nothing. Regto wasn’t really expecting much of an answer anyway. If the kid didn’t know his name, or didn’t know how to talk, Regto could always give him a name. What mattered more was getting the kid patched up and safely inside.
“Rudo.” The kid was so quiet his voice was barely audible. “Rudo Surebrec.”
Regto paused for a moment, stunned. He honestly wasn’t expecting the kid to say anything for at least a few days, if not longer. The kid’s voice sounded the way he looked; small and weak and like it would shatter into a thousand pieces with one wrong move. At least he was able to confirm what he needed to. This kid really was Alto's son. Regto smiled and kept walking after a few minutes.
“Well Rudo, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Regto.” Replied Regto, although this time he knew he wasn’t going to be getting any response. He could feel the kid had fallen fast asleep already.
