Inferno Valley

"Tarsus," the patriarch turned to face his eldest son. Aber's silver hair and piercing, dark eyes were an intimidating combination, but Tarsus stood regal and tall, awaiting his instructions. "I've had David prepare Emmeline for you tonight." A smile spread across the young man's handsome face.
"Thank you, father." A moment later a pretty young girl with dark hair and skin emerged from behind a silk curtain. She was dressed in an elegant fuchsia robe, leaving very little of her figure to the imagination. Tarsus took her delicate hand into his own and placed a gentle kiss upon it. The girl blushed, it wasn't often that her clients were handsome, young gentlemen, and Tarsus was renowned for treating the ladies at The Green Dragon with respect. She lead him out of the candle-lit room.

Aber then turned to his younger son, Mordecai. His superior frame towered over the boy, who in his young age, only stood at around five foot four.
"Mordecai," his voice was void of any emotion, and although Mordecai was used to it, it still shook him to his core every time. "Please make your way to your usual room, my son." Mordecai puffed out his chest, trying to appear taller and larger like his brother. His dark hair shadowed his child-like face as he tried his best not to crack under the overbearing pressure of his father's presence.
"Yes, father."

The young boy made his way up a flight of well-polished, marble stairs and into a mirrored lift. Even the lift itself was nicely decorated, with the mirror having a gold trim, and the floor covered by a maroon carpet. The boy sighed, staring at his reflection in the mirror as the lift began to rocket toward the top floor. His pure, brown eyes were clouded by the expression of boredom on his face. Mordecai, at only fifteen, was not permitted to visit any of the working girls on his trips to The Green Dragon. His father liked to think of himself as a man of honour, and although David Cassidy wouldn't care if he was visiting the ladies, Aber insisted that he waited until he was eighteen.

Tarsus had been allowed to spend time with the girls for two years now, and as a tall, handsome man with a strong, muscular build, the ladies loved him. Mordecai was jealous of his brother in a way that most younger brothers envy their older siblings. His envy was often overpowered by unwavering respect and love. A loud beeping sound rang in the boy's ears as he reached the highest floor of the building. The doors opened, and he stepped out.

The room that Mordecai was ordered to during Aber's meetings was at the far end of a hallway. The walls were painted a deep crimson, and it was lit by candles, which cast flickering shadows around the space. The room came equipped with a large, bubbling hot tub, that Mordecai often relaxed in. There was a mahogany desk with drawers full of coloured pencils and paper so he could write or draw when he became bored. The young boy was sure that his father wasn't aware that there was also a wine fridge, but more often than not he would sneakily drink a bottle by himself. Since he was alone, there really was no limit to what he was allowed to do in his own private room, however as the years passed by and he grew older, he became more bored, and lonely. He had considered asking his father if one of the working girls could stay in the room with him, simply for some conversation, but he knew that it would never be allowed.

Minutes rolled by, and turned into tedious hours. Mordecai lay on the bed, his desk scattered with screwed up pieces of paper and pencils. An empty bottle of merlot lay at the foot of the bed. He sighed heavily, sometimes Aber and David's meetings could last for a whole night, and he and his brother had occasionally spent the night in The Green Dragon, much to Tarsus's delight. It seemed like tonight would be one of those nights. Through the window, Mordecai could see a few stars, strong enough in their brightness that they shone through the light pollution from the surrounding city. He closed his eyes, letting alcohol fuelled fantasies swim through his mind as he drifted further into unconsciousness. It was at this moment that he heard the booming sound of a door slamming shut in the distance.

He snapped out of his wine induced coma, turning over in the velvet bed sheets. It was not often that he ever heard anyone come up to the top floor, unless it was his father coming to retrieve him and bring him home. The boy waited, but his father didn't come for him. He then heard what he could only imagine was a muffled sobbing noise. It sounded high-pitched, like a young woman. The next noises that came sounded like pleading. He could hear a deeper voice too, it sounded angry and threatening. The young boy's heart began to pound heavily as he was made alarmingly aware that not all clients treat the working girls with as much respect as Tarsus did. He was not often in the practice of disobeying his father and leaving the room, but he was young, rebellious, and drunk. He leapt from the bed with determination, and followed the sound.

Mordecai's legs were shaking as he tiptoed down the hallway. The voices became much more clear as he got closer. "Please, no more tonight, I'm exhausted." The begging voice sounded different to before; less like a woman, more like a child.
"I paid good money for you, now shut up and strip down."
"Please, I'm in pain..." The young voice was interrupted by what sounded like a hard smack. The sobbing continued, so did the shouting. Mordecai could feel a churning in his stomach and he couldn't tell if it was from disgust or fear. He managed to pinpoint the door of the room where the voices were coming from. His trembling fingers reached for the door handle.

He hesitated, scrunching his eyes tightly, the thought of what his father would do if he knew that he had left his room entered his mind. To disobey Aber was a crime against the family. The young boy sighed, defeated. He was bound by family honour, bound by fear. Slowly, he turned away from the door to leave, dragging his feet as he paced a few steps in the opposite direction. "No, please!" The child-like voice screamed from behind him. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was his own morals, but like a magnetic current, something dragged Mordecai back to the door. A crime against the family was nothing compared to a crime against humanity, and that's what he could hear inside that room. He grasped the door handle, pulled it down hard, and shoved the door open.

His eyes widened and he failed to stifle a gasp at the sight he saw inside that room. Staring at him in pure shock was a large, grey-haired man, who was grasping the arm of a tiny boy. The boy's white shirt was torn open, revealing the entirety of his slim, bruised body. The fear in his eyes was like nothing that Mordecai had ever seen before. "Who the fuck are you?" The older man spat, releasing his grasp on the young boy, who in turn fell limply onto the mattress below him. He stumbled over to Mordecai, obviously much drunker than he was. "I asked you a question, you little fuck."
"What are you doing with this child?" the teen could feel his his palms becoming moist, his head was spinning and adrenaline coursed through his veins, powering his body to stand tall, and confident.
"What's it to do with you?" The man grasped the collar of Mordecai's shirt, lifting him almost off his feet. His blue eyes glared down on him, his breath flooding the boy's nostrils with the scent of liquor. "I paid for him, I can do what I want with him."Mordecai looked over at the child, his bright eyes were beaming up at him, coated with tears, red from the pain. The teen turned back to the man and smirked, he reached down into his jacket and whipped out a long, shining knife with a red handle, holding the knife up to the man's eye. He froze immediately. The colour drained from his plump face, and his brow softened.
"I'm Mordecai Fyre." The boy's words burned into the man's ears, searing into every fibre of his brain. He began to babble incoherently. "You know that name, don't you?" The man released his grip on the crisp shirt, pushing Mordecai back and dropping down to his knees. His body convulsed and his fat hands clasped together with a disgusting, wet sound as he begged on the cold ground. "If I ever find you in here again, I'll have my father cut every vile part off your body one by one, do you understand me?" The man continued to mewl, pleading with the boy. "Now get out." Mordecai swore that he had never seen a person move so quickly, and within the blink of an eye, the man was gone. The name Fyre truly struck fear into the hearts of men in Inferno Valley.

Collapsed in a crumpled heap on the dirty mattress, the child lay, still shaking from the ordeal. He and Mordecai shared a moment of painful silence, broken only by the child's stifled whimpers. Mordecai's rigid posture softened, his brow furrowed in grief at the sight of the poor boy. "Are you ok?" his voice broke as he asked the question, he already knew the answer. The boy's face was covered by his ruffled, blonde hair. His tiny hands were scratched, and his wrists were heavily bruised. Mordecai moved closer toward him, wincing when the young boy shuffled away from him in terror. "It's ok, I won't hurt you." He edged closer still, noticing sore, red marks on the boy's neck. The teen gently set himself down on the mattress beside the child, tenderly placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. He flinched, but eventually melted into Mordecai's kind touch, as if he had never felt a gentle hand in his life.
"Thank you," the boy's voice came out meek and quiet, yet so genuine. He lifted his face up, and his textured hair fell back to reveal his sweet, innocent face. Mordecai's mouth hung open, the boy's eyes were like no eyes he had seen before. One was an intense, radiant blue; the other a deep, emerald green.
"What's your name?" Mordecai asked, cautiously.
"Arthur."
"How old are you?"
"I'm ten." Mordecai thought that he looked much younger. He had the body of a six or seven year old, and the face of a five year old.
"And that man, what was he...?"Arthur hung his head and the boy decided to stop asking stupid questions that he already knew the answer to (even if he wished that he didn't know). "Come with me." Mordecai offered the child an outstretched hand. Arthur took it reluctantly, and the teen led the small boy back to his room.

Arthur's tiny feet padded against the carpet as he entered Mordecai's private suite. The grip on the older boy's hand tightened dramatically as the child took in the spectacular view of the luxury room before him. "Have a look around if you'd like," Mordecai smiled sweetly, watching as the small boy darted over to his desk, playing with the coloured pencils between his fingers as if he didn't know what to do with them. "Yeah, this room is practically all mine," he boasted, walking toward the bathroom in the hope that Arthur would follow him and he could show the child his hot tub. Of course, the young boy ran after him, being careful not to stray from his side. "So this is my hot tub," Mordecai bragged. The sound of the raging bubbles startled Arthur, who hid behind the older boy for safety. "It's ok, look!" He reached out and stuck his hand in the warm water. "Try it." Arthur stepped up to Mordecai's side. He steadily placed his hand into the tub, letting the water envelop it in a warm hug. He looked relieved at the pleasant sensation, as the heat from the water caressed his soft skin.
"It's nice." Mordecai grinned at him smugly.
"Pretty great, isn't it? Wanna get in?"
"Can I really?"
"Sure you can!" The teen turned around the face the wall. "It's ok, I won't look whilst you get in." Arthur scanned the room suspiciously, checking every corner to make sure that he was safe before he reluctantly shed his ripped shirt, which fell in a heap on the tiled floor. He crawled on his hands and knees up the silver steps that led up the side of the tub, and delicately lowered himself down into the water.

The child winced as the warm, turbulent water swallowed up every cut and bruise on his slender body, exaggerating his pain for a moment, before it died down, and the water soothed him. "Ok, can I turn around now?" Mordecai called,
"Yes!" Arthur turned to face Mordecai, and Mordecai turned to face him, but the child's stomach dropped when he saw that the teen's shirt was unbuttoned. "W-what are you doing?" he stuttered, moving back against the edge of the hot tub. Mordecai's face was painted with an expression of pure confusion.
"I'm giving you my shirt," he stated, raising an eyebrow. "Yours is ripped, and I have loads more, plus I have a jacket here." He discarded his clean, white shirt and dumped it on the sink by his side, ready for Arthur when he came out of the water.
"Oh," the relief in the child's voice made Mordecai feel uneasy.
"They really haven't been kind to you here, have they?"
"No." The two both fell back into silence, overwhelmed with the situation that they found themselves in.
"Well don't you worry!" Mordecai exclaimed, "I can help you, just wait until my father hears about you, you'll be out of here quicker than that fuck-head in your room earlier."
"Really?" Arthur's eyes lit up, brimming with hope.
"Sure, my father is kind of a big deal, so I can normally get whatever I want, as long as I ask him."
"Do you mean it?"
"I promise."

Mordecai was pleased with himself. Not only had he managed to face his fear and heroically save the child, but he had truly experienced the power of his family name for the first time. With the name Fyre behind him, he knew that he had the authority to do anything that he wanted. The feeling of importance boiled within him, searing inside him like a burning explosion of lava. He felt as if he now knew what his calling in life would be. He could really help people in Inferno Valley. First Arthur, then the whole city. He looked over to the child. "Wait, hey!" he cried, "why are you crying!?" The young boy wiped bitter tears from his eyes, and an unknown emotion began to build within the teenaged boy. It was a fierce feeling, a protective feeling. In that moment Mordecai knew, that he needed to do whatever it took, to make this child happy, and save him from the hell that he lived in.

The two boys talked, and laughed, and drew pictures until the sun began to rise and dawn was upon them. "I'm sorry, Arthur," Mordecai told him, his voice filled with sorrow. "You have to go back now."
"I don't want to." Arthur began to sob lightly, his tiny body was draped in Mordecai's oversized shirt as if it were a dress. The teen pulled the child into a loose hug, being careful not to put pressure on any of his injuries.
"I will save you, I promise." The two lingered in the embrace for a long time, dreading going back to their lonely rooms.

Mordecai used his strength to remove the clingy child from his waist. He reached into his jacket pocket. "Here," he offered, taking the red-handled knife and holding it out toward the young boy. His eyes glistened as he admired the expensive weapon carefully. "I want you to borrow this."
"Why?"
"To protect you if somebody else comes to hurt you before I can save you." Arthur grasped the handle of the blade, his arm faltering under the weight of it. "You have to be gentle with it, and make sure you hide it well."
"How do I use it?" The boy asked,
"You see this red bit here?" Mordecai pointed to the handle, and the child nodded back at him. "Stick in right in to a man, until you get to the red bit. When you take it out, the rest of the knife will be red too. That's how you know that you've done it right." Arthur smiled up at him sweetly.
"Thank you," his pure eyes dazzled in the flickering candle lights on the hallway. "Do you promise that you won't forget about me?"
"I promise." Just like that, both boys turned and made their way back to their separate rooms, filled to the brim with excitement for what was to come later that day.

It was already mid-day by the time that Aber came up to Mordecai's room to collect him, and by that time he had managed to tidy up all of the mess that he and Arthur had made the night before. Aber reeked of whiskey, and the bags under his eyes indicated to his son that he hadn't had much sleep. Mordecai thought that maybe his father's obvious hangover was the reason why he hadn't noticed that his shirt was missing from underneath his jacket. The two stopped on the fourth floor to gather Tarsus, who strolled out from his room looking just as dashing and smart as when he had walked into it. The three stood in complete silence for the entire journey out of the building.

A sleek, black limousine with blacked out windows pulled up outside The Green Dragon, and a valet opened the doors for the three Fyre men. Mordecai took one last look up at the top floor before he got into the car, and they drove away. The car journey back was full of anxiety. What would happen when father found out that his business partner was trafficking a child for sex? Would it cause a war? Would Arthur be hurt in the process? These thoughts tumbled around inside his head, giving him a pounding headache to match his pounding heart. All the while Tarsus and Aber conversed about something or other, Mordecai could barely pay attention.

He could feel his stomach churning, it was a deep sensation right in the pit. He was feeling cold and clammy, every hair on his body stood up on end, and little bumps formed on his skin. Mordecai groaned as the saliva in his mouth began to thicken, "pull over," he mumbled. His father and brother looked over at him in confusion. "Pull over!" he barked. Immediately the driver slammed on the breaks, causing Aber and Tarsus to fly to one side. Mordecai tugged at the door handle and fell outside, completely emptying the contents of his stomach onto the pavement. He panted heavily as he managed up the last bits of the vomit, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Cai?" he heard his brother's concerned voice coming from inside the car.
"What's wrong with you, son?" Aber's deep voice bellowed. Mordecai's heart was pounding, he wasn't sure exactly what had come over him. His head was spinning wildly as he pulled himself back into the car, and he knew that it was now or never. He slammed the door behind him and the driver stepped on the gas, the sound of the engine humming filled the back of the car once again.

"Father, Tarsus, I have to tell you something." Mordecai clenched his hands into tight fists, preparing himself for their reaction.
"Spit it out then."
"Mr Cassidy is..." he gulped in anticipation. "He's selling a young boy, for sex." The car went silent, but Aber's expression did not change. It was as stone cold as ever.
"How young?" Tarsus asked,
"He's ten."
"He's ten! What the...!" Tarsus was enraged, his face went red, and he almost jumped up out of his seat, but Aber raised his hand up, and he immediately calmed down and sat in obedient silence. Aber leant forward, his dark eyes staring straight at his son's face. Mordecai tried his best not to crack, his glistening eyes gazed back at his father in confusion. Why had he not reacted? Was he not angry?

"Tell me son," he demanded. "How exactly did you come by this information?"
"I...I... I heard screaming and crying down the hallway, so I left the room to see what it..."
"You disobeyed me?" Aber interrupted, his thunderous voice echoed around them, and Tarsus leant back and looked at the ground.
"Does that matter now? I found out that..."
"Do you really think that there's anything going on in that establishment that I don't know about?" Aber questioned his son, his emotional range raising to mildly disgruntled. Mordecai shrunk back into his seat, his mouth hung agape.
"You... you knew?" He held onto his bottom lip with his teeth, trying desperately to keep them together, to not let a sob escape. "But father, why? Please stop this!"
"Simmer down Mordecai, I'm warning you."
"Fuck, what is this!? Are there more children there? Are the girls there against their will too!?" The teen was way past the point of calming down. "But Father, I promised him that I would save him, I promised!" Tears spilled from his eyes and he became hysterical. He grasped at his hair with frustrated hands, and his voice broke as he cried and wailed at his father.
"You should never make a promise that you can't keep, son. Your punishment for disobeying me will be having to live with the fact that you've broken that promise. Learn from it." As the car pulled on to the private lane that lead up to the Fyre Mansion, Aber signalled the driver to stop. "That and you'll never return to The Green Dragon again." The car pulled to a halt and Aber opened the door. "And you'll walk from here."

Mordecai was pushed out onto the road, his face burning with rage at his father. The one who had always protected him, the one who had given him everything and anything that he wanted, had done so off the backs of abused children. He collapsed onto the stones below him, the image of Arthur waiting for him was branded into the back of his mind. This was the moment that changed him. This was the moment that caused him to see his family for what it really was. The reason that people always gave them so much respect was because they were truly monsters. Dragging himself to his feet, Mordecai used his passionate anger to power him forward along the road. He broke into a sprint, determined, at the cost of a beating, at the cost of further punishment, to change his father's mind, for Arthur.