Hey, well this is my first Durarara story. I hope its alright... If people like it I will continue, if not then, I guess I don't have to.
Disclaimer: Hey this is BlacksNature, and I do not own Durarara, if I did Izaya would be in the spotlight more often. :P
Full Summary:
Three levels too deep. Distinct sections where life flourishes. The rich above ground, the poor, abandoned below. Rivers run swiftly. In the crevices water falls.
Down, down, down. Liquid slips to the boy who can't speak. Socially awkward is he, venerable, abandoned. Below the surface he struggles reaching high, towards the ceiling he looks knowing above there is sky. Where the young man thrives as his father provides all he ever needs. He's never one experienced betrayal, but always felt the heartache of being unloved. When two people meet. Who were never meant to know the existence of a world, never experienced. It is the moment when rich and poor clash when societies are formed. So separating barriers is how to we form the earth. One cannot be selfish, scapegoating the weak. One must stand for what is right and destroy the distinct sections. For we are three levels to deep
Ikebiko was a large city separated into three distant levels. Top level also known as level one was above ground, it was filled with terrifyingly tall towers of steel, small apartments, living complexes, roads and people. At the centre of the city was a large park, with a main attraction being the beautifully designed water fountain, the water shots out towards the sky, falling back into the confines of the concrete container. The water flows down into small incisions, dipping and sinking below the surface. Winding in canals cut out of the stone walls of the underground tunnels, flowing to the second layer also known as level two where the orphans and the homeless stay. Within caves down below the city level two is located. The caves are illuminated by glow worms and the Hikari crystal. Water then flows deeper underground into the lowest and darkest level where criminals reside, this is called level three. The air is thick of blood, death and decay in these levels. Level three is known to hold the filth of the city, anyone and everyone who has committed a crime ends up in the dark confines of level three, it is said to be the darkest and cruellest place in the city, a place full of death and evil.
Shizuo stumbled through the alleyways, pushing over trash cans and glancing behind him, trying to catch a glimpse of his attackers. Following the nasty sneers and cheers of the men after him. Filth, they were filth from the underground. Filth that somehow managed to get to level one. This was not good, not good at all. He squeezed his way through tight, narrow passages, his clothes covered in grime. Most day's lady luck was on her side, but today was different. Shizuo stumbled into an alley with nowhere else to run, spinning on his heal he turned to face his assailants, defiance clearly writing on his face. He refused to hurt them, as it could have dire consequences. The men got closer their grubby hands reaching for him, he stilled and stifled a yell of outrage as the man griped his wrist. The man's grip tightened, constricting like a snake that has finally caught its prey. Shizuo's eyes growing wide in shock when his shirt was torn to shreds. The man's rough hand groping his member, laughing when an involuntary moan escaped his mouth. His attacker brought him closer, connecting their lips, forcing his slimy appendage into Shizuo mouth. 'That's it, this suckers gonna pay' Shizuo thought as he chomped down on the man's tongue. The guy pushed him away in shock, pulling a blade from his side pocket and began tearing at his flesh. The sharp pointed edges of the knife biting into his soft skin tearing out chunk after chunk. Carving cruel words into his flesh, the pain becoming unbearable as he let out a scream of raw agony. Shizuo watched as a young man popped up from the ground below. His vision fading in and out, as the last thing he witnessed was the silent movements of the young man knocking his assailant's unconscious and the distinct colour of blood red eyes.