Chapter 12: The Depth of a Rat

"Men are on the border of unifying the people and collapsing into a collection of the most dangerous apex predators the universe has ever seen."

Hawk Price, denizen of the underbelly of the city.

Sentenced for life on charges of genocide, torture, manslaughter, drug trafficking, kidnapping, and human trafficking.

A sentence to the Underbelly is akin to being thrown into a pit filled with rats that feed on one another for their own survival. Below even the pit, past the drains and delving several miles into the crust of the earth is the Underbelly, a living nest of those completely rejected from society. A fate deemed worse than execution by those too weak to learn how to survive in this version of hell. There is no law here, and only those who protect themselves and steal survival from those around them.

Hawk Price was thrown into this pit after being discarded by the so called humans that lived above. They had used, abused, and pinned all the crimes they could onto Hawk, not to say that he wasn't guilty of them. The Underbelly was the kind of place that some found to be a hunting zone, where the strong survive and thrive, and the weak become prey. True freedom existed only in the blood of those that would take it from you.

Hawk had heard of the Underbelly before he was tossed down here by the drug lords of the pit, they had said that only hell existed lower than it. He wasn't the type to let life kick him aside however, he instead wanted to be on the side doing the kicking, and with his will to live, he delved into the Underbelly.

The Dreamer's Juice, Heaven's Ticket, Mood Tube.

These are all names given by the people to the only respite those in the Underbelly receive. A miracle drug that sent many people on their own trip to nirvana, it was classified as a highly dangerous drug by the government and it didn't seem like there was any way to exterminate it from the city.

This drug was the real reason Hawk was sent to the Underbelly, he had been a pusher and seller for this drug for several years, working for and hopping from drug suppliers and crime lords alike. They say it takes one use to become horribly addicted to this drug, causing you to seek it out and hunt for it, making your life revolve around it.

Hawk refused to take it, he was a dealer, not a junkie. He intended to keep himself clean so he could keep his self under his own property, and not have to rely on someone for a fix. His bosses had other plans however, and despite resistance had forced Hawk to take the drug. They wanted him addicted, they wanted him wrapped around their finger, and they wanted him to be a slave.

Hawk wasn't affected by the drug.

He flew into a rage, ripping the people who tried to hold him down off of him, throwing them into each other before wielding piece of scrap as a knife and proceeded to cut, kill, and butcher everyone that had held him down. Slice after slice, he had felt no remorse as he sliced apart those that had tried to make him break his only rule. No, those that had forced him to break his only rule. They just weren't lucky. It turned out that Hawk was of the miniscule part of the population that the drug didn't break them down mentally and sent them on a trip lasting days.

Ultimately, Hawk ran out of gas, and was cut apart himself before being bound and gagged. He was thrown into a dirty courthouse practically owned by the bottom-feeding crooks, and sentenced to the Underbelly. An official sentencing was the only way for the massive metal gates of the Underbelly to open. The fresh meat was thrown in from above for the starving creatures that existed below.

Hawk thrived in this environment.

His only rule that he had in place to protect himself was broken, and by sheer chance he was spared the horrible fate that he could have been delivered to. He felt as if the world was looking out for him, and that all he had to do was live life the way he seemed fit and things would go his way.

Murder? It wasn't like he was a stranger to it, and now he was encouraged to do so without any chance of legal repercussions.

Stealing? As long as he didn't get caught, or there was no one left to catch him there wouldn't be a problem right?

Drugs? Dreamer's Juice didn't even seem to phase him before, and after months of contemplating he decided to give it another chance to see if he really was being protected by the world, or if they had just set him up to get rid of him. Even this time, he felt no change in his head, but he felt energetic. The same energetic that had happened when he was able to throw a fully grown man into another one and send them both flying. Adrenaline was the obvious answer to how that was possible, but after taking the drug, he was able to lift and throw several hundred pounds of metal with ease. It seemed to wear off quicker the more energy he used though, it was like a temporary power-up, an instant steroid.

With this discovery his life in the Underbelly became a breeze, he spent time amassing his drug pile, and plotting to make a cushiony life for him in hell. He traded drugs for knives, clothes, and food while trading lives for the drugs. A simple system and he found himself growing more and more greedy, but not for the drug and not for more materials.

He desired to have fun.

He had killed hundreds of people in his three years in the Underbelly, far higher than any other person living on the lonesome, and he realized something disappointing. He didn't feel as if he were killing humans anymore, these people snarled and fought back more akin to animals. They had lived in this cesspool for far too long and had lost what it meant to be civil humans. Hawk felt he was becoming more akin to a "Hunter" than a murderer. He hadn't seen any unique faces on the hundreds of corpses he had made. Fear of death, and fear of life, they were all the same. Struggling to survive without a reason.

They made him sick.

Not because of their lack of reason, because he was the same. He was killing to live, and living to kill. He stopped only killing those that stood in his way, or those he would gain a profit from killing. Hawk had decided it wasn't enough, he couldn't stand looking at the people who scurried around looking for a scrap of food or a hit of the Juice.

Two weeks. He was killing indiscriminately for two weeks before he was stopped.

His hovel of a home was disturbed by a large man that the people of the Underbelly had never seen before. He wore cybernetic gloves that seemed to integrate itself into a cybersuit that seemed like a completely different make. Everyone had kept their distance for a completely different reason however, the augmented rifle that was slung over this hulking figure's back.

Hawk had stayed where he was seated, no one would haphazardly barge into his home at this point, nearly everyone avoided him like he was a literal plague.

"What do you want, Robot?" Hawk was eyeing him up and down, ready to inject himself with Dreamer's Juice if necessary. It was something he hadn't had to do in months, he had learned how to not rely on the drug, and only use it in emergencies. This felt like an emergency waiting to happen, and he wouldn't hesitate if he had to, for this wasn't an animal staring him down, it was a man.

"Hawk Price, Correct?" The man made no moves for his weapon, nor did he make any aggressive movements.

"The one and only. Now again, whaddya want."

"My name is Sky." Sky had reached for his belt, and slowly pulled out an injector, and tossed it at Hawk's feet. "If you want to move up, take that, then meet me at the gate."

As quickly as he arrived, he turned and disappeared through the door-hole.

Hawk picked up the injector and looked it over, and it definitely wasn't a food tube. From everything he could tell, it looked like an injector full of Dreamer's Juice, and he already knew that it did nothing to him. To him there wasn't any risk of it killing him, if it was another drug there wasn't anyway it could be stronger than Dreamer's Juice.

He took the injector and placed it against his upper arm, and pressed the inject button.

Instead of just injecting a small needle the tube latched onto his arm and he felt several needles pierce his skin and he felt the substance flood into his body.

"This is wrong. No, it wasn't suppose to hurt-!" Hawk collapsed over onto the ground as he felt the substance course up and down his arm, it was like magma and it was escaping his veins into his muscles and bones. It flowed into his chest and pierced his organs, bring the feeling of them being shredded. He hacked up and vomited blood as it spread further down and engulfed his stomach and intestines.

"Tha- Bas-" *Cough* "Fu-" *Hack* "Tri-- Som-" *Vomit* "Hel-" Hawk was writhing on the ground now, and as he vomited, he spat out a lung that had been eviscerated. 'How am I even still awake?' He thought as he stared as his lung in horror.

'I'm actually dying.'

The substance reached the tips of his fingers and toes now, and Hawk just closed his eyes and accepted his fate, cursing his murderer. The lava seared his body, and the pain caused him to spasm constantly, but at least his organs seemed to be destroyed so he didn't have to vomit them up anymore.

'If my organs were shredded, what about my brain?' He figured if it had shredded all the others, his brain wouldn't be spared but seeing as he was still awake just assumed the world played a sick joke on him by only protecting his brain from the drugs over the years. That's why his head was clear with Dreamer's Juice, because of the world's cruel joke on him.

"If my organs are destroyed, why am I still awake?" Hawk opened his eyes to only realize the blood around him was dried completely.

'???'

"What?"