The all mighty disclaimer: I don't own Ace Lightning…if I did the show would be a God damn splatter-fest! SPATTERFEST YOU HEAR ME!!!!!

I would have put technobable in here (or is it mecnobable in this case?) but I just don't know the first thing about cars, so bare with me.

(Sorry about the stupid character names)

Ren's Story

The shrieks of the young boy next door made Ren wince as it permeated the thin walls of his bedroom. He had never spoken to the boy, but he had seen him outside his house before, often bruised and with a new scar on his arms or face, looking at him with a distant, broken gaze.

Often he just wanted to walk over to him and tell him that everything was going to be ok, to comfort him and wipe the tears from under his eyes, giving him hope and showing him that there was something to live for. There were so many children like the boy in their city; pain like his was everywhere, in the streets, in the orphanages, in the whorehouses, everywhere.

Yet Ren felt a special connection to this boy, as if he was obliged to protect him, and he didn't know why. Maybe it was because he had silently known this boy for so long, he was only a year or so younger than him, and even though he had wittiness the darkest side of humanity he was able to retain an air of soft, sweet innocence around him. In an odd way Ren saw him as a little brother.

Not being able to stand the boys cries any longer, Ren climbed out of bed and walked towards the kitchen to get a glass of water, he wasn't really thirsty, but it was something to do. His house was like most, linoleum padding covering up the concrete floors, thin walls, more plaster than anything, and fluro lighting. Yes, this was the slums of Illumine City, the part where the eternal day and protection that the light generators offered paled into an eternal twilight by night, and the creatures that inhabited it struggled day to day in an effort to survive it's hardship, clinging to what ever lifelines they had, whether it be love, family, or a hope of a better future.

Ren was lucky, he was much better off than most, and joy was not as alien to him, as he and his father often laughed and joked together, sharing a bond of love that even the destitution of the slums wasn't able to weaken. Ren's father was the local mechanic, which brought in enough money to keep them on there feet, neither of them squandering it on habits and addictions. Ren helped his father at his work, and that gave him the satisfaction of knowing he was contributing to the family, comparing it to how things could have been, life was pretty good.

Ren heard a few growls of irritation coming from the garage where he and his father fixed the machines that had been brought in for repair. Still in his boxer shorts, Ren followed the sound to find the garage light on and his father's legs sticking out from under a car they had been attempting to fix. It was in pretty good shape considering it was a slum car (the phenomena of a slum inhabitant actually owning a car was even rarer) it only had one hub cap missing and most of it's green paint work had yet to of been scratched off.

Ren smirked as his father growled again in frustration at this particularly tricky job. Ren kicked the man in the boot causing him to give out a small yell of surprise. His father slid from under the car with a concerned look which quickly shifted to irritation as he saw that it was his son who disturbed him. Ren noted that he was being to look more and more like his father in each passing day, sharing the older man's brown hair and dark eyes, but not yet his stubble.

"Ren!" his father growled, "I thought you were some drunken thug, you're lucky I didn't clobber ya!"

Ren rolled his eyes, "Same paranoid, workaholic old man as always," Ren teased in a voice that was a bit deeper than a ten year olds should be.

"Watch that mouth of yours, you need to show your dad some respect…and I'm not old!" Ren's dad replied defensively.

Ren chuckled, and then sighed, "Dad, I really don't think it was necessary to start this job at two O'clock in the morning."

Ren's dad simply shook his head, "Ren you're starting to nag like a woman! Your mother was just the same!" Ren felt no pang of pain or regret at the mention of his dead mother; neither did his dad. Ren didn't really remember her, and his father preferred to celebrate her memory rather than mourn it. Ren DID, however, take a bit of offense at being called a woman.

"OI! I don't much appreciate that!" he threw an old rag at his father.

"Thanks, I needed that," his father laughed as he used the rag to whip the grease off his face. "So, if you're not going to go to bed and you're just going to bug me, you might as well bug me while you're getting some work done, but hopefully not when you're half naked, so go and change into some overalls or go to bed!"

Not wanting to leave the friendly atmosphere of the garage and return to the somber darkness of his room, Ren grabbed some overalls off the bench and pulled them on.

"You can finish what I've started here and I'll change the tire," his father told him as he walked into the second part of garage to get a new tire.

Ren slipped under the car to find out what his father had been working on, shining his torch at the underbelly of the vehicle. Ren had spent his whole life around machines; he knew them better then anything else, and only his father seemed to have the same connection with machines as he did.

Before he could even pick up a spanner Ren heard some muffled yells and scrambling noises coming from the second part of the garage. His eyes widening he scrambled out from under the vehicle as fast as he could, hitting his head on the bull-bar in the process. Cursing loudly, he ran into the garage's second section, swinging open the door to find himself stepping into his nightmare.

His father was lying on the floor, his face so white it almost seemed to illuminate the darkness, deathly white. Those dark eyes of his were rolled into the back of his head and drool dripped from his mouth, then down the side of his face. On he stomach was a puncture wound were blood welled, his hand resting on top of it, desperately attempting to stop the blood from leaving his body during life, now nothing but a testament to that failed attempt.

Ren's eyes quivered at the site of it, and he felt his entire body being crushed by life itself, as if the sudden intensity and horror it had gained was two much for one boy to carry. Ren allowed the weight to push him to his knees besides his father's body, not even paying any attention to the fact that his life was in imminent danger.

The assailant, the one that had cut his lifeline, looked down at him through eyes filled with sadistic pleasure. One hand reached down to claim his newest prize, but as his finger brushed the boy's brown hair the attacker heard his fellows begin there chant. He wanted to take the boy, to hear his screams, but he didn't dare miss a minute of the ceremony that was about to take place. Growling softly, he turned and ran though the doorway that connected the garage to the street, nearly tripping over the fly screen door he had ripped from it's hinges.

Ren was unaware of all of this, of how close he had come from having his life taken, unaware of the impending massacre, to Ren, the only thing that existed at that moment was the body of his father. Oblivious to the increasing chaos outside, Ren rested his head on his father's chest, not blinking, his eyes still wide and disbelieving, and simply lay there, not wanting to believe the truth.