Rent

The humming of a machine fills a dank bland studio apartment. The white paint of the walls are chipped and reveal a pale yellow underneath, the carpeted floor has numerous stains stretching the entire length of the room. The only items in the apartment are an old refrigerator with brown stains running down the doors, a microwave that sits on the floor, a bed that come off the wall supported by two metal bar keeping it rooted in place and a thin mattress placed atop it, under the bed are a canvas bag and a small wooden chest. One wrinkled poster and a clock lay on the walls.

A young man lays on the pathetic mattress, staring endlessly at the ceiling, his eyes are of a bright red hue, he wears a simple black long-sleeved shirt and worn unsaturated jeans. He brushes his long green hair out of his eyes as he tiredly glanced at the clock.

"Have one of them killed the other finally?" He looks back to the ceiling.

The sounds of a couple yelling at each other begin resonating from the apartment above him.

"Screw that thought." He jumps off the bed and slips on a pair of red sneakers, before turning to the black iron door of the apartment he snatches his bag.

When he opens the door, a large asian man stands there to meet him.

"Oh, how wondaful! Your rent is due today mr.Akuma." The rotund man has a gleeful tone before snapping back to his usual moody attitude as he hands Damian a card.

"I don't need you to remind me, Feng Po." Damian takes the card and reads it.

"In case you forgot your last payment was almost three weeks late." Feng scouls at Damian.

"Whatever, you got it in the end. Isn't that what matters?" He pockets the card and yawns.

"That's not how this works, I let you stay in my place and in return you pay me on a regular schedule." He glares at Damian before walking to the next door.

"What a stick in the mud." Damian starts making his way through the streets.

This is HighSpire the city of renewal, it gets its name from the tall towers, most notably the tower in the center of the city, its name blood spire. Of course only the wealthy folk, we call rich bloods, go in there.

All along the street are the sick, the dying, and the homeless. If you can't work you're as good as the garbage that floods the alleys. But the people rather starve to death behind these walls than even risk the chance of being rend apart by the monsters that lurk outside. There's a type of people that are considered even lower scum than the street crooks, and they would be the blood hunters. The only people who like them are the blood lusting corporate big dogs.

As Damian approaches a large gate he passes by many people who give him side eyes. A squared individual wearing some sort of metal armor and holding a spear in one hand and a rifle in the other approaches Damian.

"Still looking to throw your life away?" He looms above with overwhelming height.

"I still have a life to throw." Damian looks up at him unimpressed.

"I'm surprised we haven't found you dead in ally yet from all the lip you give everyone." He turns and signals to another guard.

"As if you guys even patrol this area." Damian walks past him and towards the giant metal gate that's beginning to open.

The side of the wall is like an entirely different world, demolished cities and forests slowly reclaiming the land are of the most common sight, you'll get the occasional flesh fields which are anywhere and are spawn pools for the hell beasts, it got its name from how it covers the area in a fleshy pink substance.

This is more my kind of local, if it wasn't for the fact the monsters never sleep, I would prefer to live out here. Damian opens his bag and takes out a pair of navy blue fur sleeves, slipping them on they cover his entire arms and the claws reach out past his hands.