The Roman Project: The Wronged

Chapter 11

Londen led them through the rundown neighborhood, green vines climbed up the brick buildings, and metal barrels were lit with fire. But, it also seemed... empty. Like nobody lived here - like it was dead.

Londen stepped onto the sidewalk and stopped in front of a red-painted restaurant. The large glow-wire sign was off and it looked closed. He walked up to the door and rapped on it three times, loudly.

He leaned towards the window, putting his hand over his eyes to see inside.

"I'm gonna check the back." He said, walking around the back of the building.

They followed him into an alleyway, garbage and rusty dumpsters surrounding them. They trudged a long way down until they came to a rusted metal door. Londen walked up to it and rapped on it obnoxiously. They waited for a minute before he started to knock again.

It opened a crack, a chain lock visible.

"What do you want?" A small voice said. It was a teenage girl's voice, and she must've been hiding behind the door.

Londen leaned closer, speaking quietly.

"Does... Nahveet Rajkumari live here?" Londen asked, he sounded a little confused.

The girl hesitated before answering.

"He used to." She still didn't show herself.

Londen frowned.

"Where is he now?"

The girl didn't answer.

Londen continued talking hurriedly.

"Because I used to be very good friends with him.I-I was wondering if he could help me."

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you." The girls' voice said and she began to close the door.

"Wait!" Londen jumped forward and shoved his foot in the doorway, stopping it from closing.

"Wait, just wait. Please." Londen said.

"Can you please get your foot out of my door." The girl said.

The sudden sound an older woman's voice came from inside.

Londen pulled his foot out of the door the same time it was opened by a woman who looked to be in her mid thirties to early forties with a tight blonde ponytail and a scowl. She placed her hand on her waist and as her face turned more sour as she said, "Not anymore."

Londen frowned. He knew this woman.

"It's Ona, right? I don't know if you remember me, but I used to live not far from here." Londen said, he sounded nervous.

She looked to be in her mid thirties to early forties with a tight blonde ponytail and a scowl.

"Yes, Londen, I remember you."

"Where he is now?" Londen asked.

"He's dead."

Jeen almost didn't catch the words because the woman said with such a hard and emotionless face.

"Oh. I-I didn't know." Londen looked disturbed, and shocked, but Jeen could tell he was trying hard to hide it. "What happened?"

Ona paused a moment. "Come inside." She pulled the door open wide for them to enter. They into a back room filled with metal racks stocked with beverages and non-perishable foods, and through a narrow doorway was a much larger emptier room.

As they walked in Jeen saw the girl who answered the door before. She had her arms crossed and her face was half hidden behind her black hair, but Jeen guessed she was somewhere in her late teens.