A young boy of no more than seven crested over the bleached dune, heaving in exhaustion from the arduous climb up the deceptively large sandy hill. The boy had no time for rest as the chain that pierced out of his chest and wrapped around his body and left leg was tugging him back down whence he came. With a strained grunt the boy took hold of the chain and heaved with his whole body until finally, attached to the other end of the chain, a large mass was pulled to the dune’s crest. The mass was just as long as the boy was tall and as wide as he was broad, though the mass’s actual contents were hidden under the many layers of chain that encased its whole length.
Finally, with his chained burden no longer pulling him back down, the boy released it and slumped backwards letting himself catch a much-needed breath. He laid there gazing at the black blanket of night watching to see if any star would rise from the bone-white sands to fill the cosmos, but for another night, like all the ones before it, no such star rose.
After his moments reprieve the boy got up and scanned across the dead desert. Much to his surprise, off in the distance the pitch of night was pressed back by the warm glow of a town. With a heavy sigh, the boy tugged the mass of chains close and began his long trek.
With little more than the guiding light to fill his mind the time washed away with the desert winds. Hours ebbed by slowly as the boy limped along, his shallow footprints quickly painted over by the rough gouge ripped through the sands by that dragging mass. With time, even those deep gouges would wash away as the desert, too like her denizens, is wont to forgetting.
It was a quiet affair but the boy eventually found himself at the mouth of some small half buried ruins. The town seemed completely dead, half tumbled, and nearly fully crumbled obsidian structures of smooth walls and impossible twisting architecture had glass doors and broken windows barricaded shut with black charred wood. The only signs of life were the occasional glow of eyes that watched him from across the barricaded windows. In the whole town there was but one building whose door remained accessible, the warm glow of that light which guided him all the way here shining through the mostly intact window. The decision was simple enough and the boy limped into the building awkwardly finagling with the door so that he could drag in the chained mass as well.
“Welcome! Welcome! It ain’t too often to get guests round’ here. If ye had some karma to share perhaps I could even spare some wares of me own.”
The young boy turned to the voice, gazing past the mass clutter of piling grey paraphernalia was the large looming form of a man whose head hung upside down and resembled that of a fox. The man’s gleaming white suit was punctured through to make way for a small chain about thirteen links long that rose to his breast pocket where the chain ended in a bland coin purse. “I may be a Coin, but my trades are always fair. What do ya say Kid?”
The boy’s eyes locked onto the coin purse that drooped ever so slightly out of the foxman’s breast pocket and his expression soured. The boy didn’t respond to the Coin, merely choosing to scour the contents of the mass piles of colorless nonsense. “I’s got just bout anythin’ a kid like ye could want. Swords, cars, cards, and dolls. I’s got the lot. Ye an animal kid? I’s gots the whole kingdom stuffed, fluffed, and hanged by aisle three. I could sho-“
The boy apathetically interrupted the Coin, “I’m thirsty.” The boy broke his gaze away from the useless gadgetry and stared intensely at the Coin, daring him to deny the boy. At first the Coin stood uncertain but quickly the reversed head frowned. “Ye fancy yerself a fleshstalker Kid? Ye look human enough so maybe ye hasn’t wandered round’ nough’ yet, but I’s say ye get out of that now while ye can. I don’t want to hurt no kid, my karma hurt’n nough’ as it is, but if you even so try for my blood it be the last thing ye eve-“
Once again, the boy interrupted the angered fox as if the Coin hadn’t even been speaking “Water”. The simple word stopped the Coin’s threat dead in its track. Eventually the confused fox recollected himself enough to articulate “…what?”
The boy replied with still nary an emotion coloring his voice “I’m thirsty, I want water.” The Coin stood unmoving in incredulousness before bursting into an uncontrollable fit of explosive laughter coming out as a strange animalistic yip. The boy narrowed his brows in anger before unhooking from his belt a watering can with two spouts pointing in opposite directions. One of the spouts pointed straight up as if a feather in the wind, and the other drooped heavily downwards as if bending from overwhelming weight “I can pay.”
The Coin could barely respond through the bouts of side-splitting laughter. “It aint’ matter how much ye got Kid, I can’t sell what ain’t real!” another shock of humored yips interrupted the fox “Water! Oh that’s a good one, how old are ye Kid? Die yesterday or somethin’?”
The boy merely frowned at the Coin and without another word took his watering can and began walking away. “Wait!” The boy stopped and turned back to the fox “I aint’ lieve’ in no water but I know someone else who did.”
The boy turned to fully face the Coin trying to maintain his glower, though the boy’s interest was easy to see through “Who?”. At this the Coin smiled “Nothin’ free in this world Kid. A bit of karma goes a long way to loosen the lip though ye catch?” The fox licked his lips as he hungrily gazed at the boy’s watering can.
With a sigh the boy approached the Coin requiring a harsh tug on his chain to pull his burdened mass closer and allowing him to cover the distance between them. The boy once again took out his watering can and placed it on a small clearing of a nearby table. The fox watched as one of the watering spouts drooped incredibly heavy and the other stood tall “Wouldn’t happen to be good would ye Kid?” The coin received his reply in the form of a simple raising of a questioning brow. “How does a kid even get this much bad anyway? Shouldn’t ye be judged or somethin’ with this much?”
The boy ignored the fox’s interrogation and began straight with haggling. “How much?”. Seeing as he wasn’t going to get any answers, the Coin brought out a bleached bone scale with two-coin purses, one black and one white, balancing on either end, the scale leaned ever so slightly onto the side of the white purse.
“I want five pinches bad.” The fox spoke assuredly. The boy’s face scrunched in contemplation “You’ll go negative.” At this the fox’s face saddened as he looked down at the hardened child, though the visage appeared foreign to the boy “I’s was bein’ considerate to ye.” The boy shook his head, stating instead “You’ll take three pinches.”
The fox stood baffled “Ye want to give less!? Have ye seen yer balance!?” The boy locked eyes with the upside-down eyes of his negotiator “Accept the offer.” The coin raised his arms placatingly “Alright, whatever, yer funeral kid.”
With the deal struck, the boy took his watering can and poured three pinches of a black liquid from the drooping spout of his watering can into the black pouch on the Coin’s scale. As the thick black liquid pooled out of the can's faucet, the liquid hardened into small black coins that clinked harshly into the black pouch.The Coin’s scale adjusted in balance so that the two pouches were a little more evenly balanced though still with the white being heavier, while the drooping spout of the boy’s watering can rose an almost imperceptible amount. The boy latched his watering can back onto his belt, then glared up at the Coin “Now out with it.”
The Coin didn’t wait in giving the boy what he wanted “Few weeks ago this woman came in-“ the fox scratched a clawed finger across his forehead as he tried recalling back “She was a wine, bout' twenty seven links I would guess. She wanted a siphon, so I’s made a joke bouts’ water and she got all ggresive’ with me. Told me that water was real. Anyways, she said she was lookin’ for Justicia. Guess if ye want to lieve’ in the impossible may as well go all in.” The Coin shrugged in exasperation. “We ain’t talk much after that. She bought a siphon from me, paid with good and everything, then after that she left abouts north twenty west.”
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The boy gave a curt nod in thanks and wasted no time in making his way out to the road, though just as he was leaving the Coin called out once more “And here’s a little extra free o’ charge. Try not to idle round’ here too long. A Judge be makin’ their rounds soon and they aint’ no Justicia.”
The boy didn’t even glance back as he exited the establishment. As the door swung closed behind him, he immediately heard sliding locks followed by the heavy hammering of placing barricades. The boy searched through his pockets in search of his compass but before he could find it, he was interrupted by the gong of a large unseen bell. The young boy’s head kicked up to see across from him at the other end of town, a tall fat figure painfully hunched over and draped in impossible black garbs that trailed far behind it like a tail. A single white wing jutted out the back of the beast like an incredible pearl flag almost glowing against the backdrop of that empty night sky. Slipping out of the black garb of the hunched figure was a thick neck buried under layers of folded fat that ended in a flat snow feathered face. On the face of this creature was a wicked fanged beak marred in scars and aged sinew; but most telling of all was the blindfold that wrapped all about the giant head, and on that blindfold was the faded ink of a pair of drawn eyes. The boy and the creature locked eyes, the ink of the blindfold actually twisting and morphing to focus on the child.
The boy reached for his watering can and the Judge, for it could be no other being, was about to step forward before it was distracted by a frail old man that ran out towards the Judge from one of the dilapidated ruins. The frail man collapsed at the covered feet of the Judge. A chain with a single link connected a camera to the withered man’s chest. “Oh Judge thank goodness you arrived, I don’t deserve to be here. There must have been a mistake, I’m a good man, I’ve worked hard, done well. Look, look, see for yourself.” The man’s frail shaking hands presented a film reel with a long trailing line of white film on one side and a single black frame on the other side. “See? I made a mistake, I know I did, but I’ve repented this week I have, I’ve grown. Please Judge, please save me!”
The inky drawing of eyes dragged down to the pleading man. “You have come for final judgement?” The old man fervently nodded in affirmation. “Yes, yes, I’m sure as you read my balance, you’ll see that I am a good man.” Out from the Judge's black garbs slipped a large, taloned hand that reached down and daintily lifted the film reel out of the man’s hand, resting it upright on its own open palm. The film reel easily toppled over to the side containing the white film and the inky eyes of the Judge’s blindfold glowered. “Are you a thief?”
The old man’s eyes blew open to massive saucers “I’d never no I-“ The Judge quickly interrupted, “No soul has so much good, You’ve robbed from your fellow denizens” The old man shook his head fervently “No I-“ “You take what is not rightfully yours.” The old man’s eyes began to water, small tears washing away a heavy film of dirt down his cheek “No this is me, if you read the film you’ll see-“ The Judge let the film reel drop to the ashen sands below and reached for the old man’s chest “You are a sinner.” The Judge’s taloned hand moved through the man’s chest as if no flesh barred its path. Muscle fibers along the Judge's arm tensed as it took hold of some thing within the man; and then slowly, it pulled back dragging the chain out from the man’s chest. As the Judge pulled, the old man’s body completely froze. Attached to the end of the chain was a little grey ethereal thing, it had no tangible form, but upon its wavering surface was the silently shouting visage of the old man. The grey form clung to the man’s body in desperate rejection of freedom. Just as the last of the grey thing was about to be wrenched asunder from it's corporeal home, a piercing geyser of black water severed the Judge’s arm. The arm fell lifelessly to the ground and the wavering grey thing frantically crawled back into the old man.
The Judge whipped its head to the origin of the geyser where it saw a young boy wielding a double spouted watering can that pointed dangerously at the judge. A long chain trailed out of the boy’s chest. Now unraveled from his body, the chain travelled all the way to the other side of town where the mass of chains was wrapped around some unidentifiable source. Though unraveled as it was, the chain no longer fully encased the mass revealing a small pair of feet sticking out the bottom. The judge smiled at the glaring boy “Unquestionably a sinner. Child, clearly repentance will be lost on you. The only thing left now is… punishment.”
The Judge lunged at the small child easily clearing the grand distance between the two. Undaunted, the boy quickly whipped his loosely hanging chain forward. The Judge easily caught the chain and pulled heavily, dragging the boy forward to be met by a second taloned arm swiping forward. The boy batted the attack aside with his watering can, but he didn't see the third arm shoot out of the black garbs. Thick, hooked talons sunk harshly into the boy's shoulder, and then with all the weight the Judge could muster, it smashed the boy into the sand.
A small pull back was all the Judge gave before it threw its head forward ready to skewer the small child with its beak. The boy just about tilted his head out of the way and swiftly wrapped his chains around his enemy's beak. With a pull on the chain, the Judge's head was tugged forward and the boy made a grasp for its blindfold.
Panicked at the boy's ploy, the Judge let it's whole body fall onto the child stealing his wind and with the brief reprieve used the opportunity to unlatch and jump away. The boy let the Judge go, though his chain was still wrapped around its beak.
The inky eyes of the Judge narrowed reaccessing the child. The boy didn't give the Judge long as he poured a single drop of black dew out of the weighed faucet of his watering can and into his open palm. The black dew writhed and flexed before forming into a bullet of black water that he threw towards the Judge.
The Judge dodged into the air, its pearly wing carrying it impossibly high, nearly invisible against the night sky if not for that brilliant wing. Then the Judge dove downwards, five taloned limbs poised offensively. The boy managed to strike true with another black liquid bullet but it did little to divert the attacking raptor. The Judge crashed straight into the boy, all five limbs piercing their talons deeply into soft flesh. The incredible momentum that the Judge carried drove the two into a roll that the Judge exited with throwing the boy's wounded body into, and through, some nearby ruins.
The Judge noticed that during their roll The boy managed to wrap his chains around the Judge's body one more time but it mattered not. The Judge could see; as the boy struggled to stand himself back up, a splattering of holes across his body staining his muted clothes red, bruises and cuts filling in the rest; that this surprisingly stubborn child was on his last leg.
The boy took a few sharp painful breaths, he could feel his ribs pressing harshly against his lungs. He stumbled over the crumbled ruin walls swaying dangerously, and when he reached down to pick up his dropped watering can his vision swam and he almost didn't make it back up. He hardened his vision on the mischievously grinning Judge and then slowly began to pour generous dollops of black liquid into his open palm. When he got to the twelfth dollop and the liquid overflowed out of his hand hissing against the sand beneath yet still he poured, then the Judge stopped smiling. The boy continued on until he reached twenty strong dollops and he clenched his fist.
From the horizons of nothingness a towering flood of liquid so dark and grand it was like the night sky itself fell down to fell this foe. The Judge tried to leap away but a tug from the boy and his chains brought it back down. The oceanic might of the wave plunged forward, crashing into the Judge before swirling about and spinning again once more, twisting and flailing into a violent vortex that grabbed hold of the boy's loose chain and swirled it around and around the crumbling Judge.
When the water finally settled down, the Judge was half-submerged, disoriented, and cocooned in chain. The boy sprinted through the thick water as if it wasn't even there and upon reaching his captured opponent, quickly ripped the blindfold from the monster’s face. The Judge immediately collapsed into a pile of bone white sand and simultaneously, as quickly as it had appeared, all of the black water evaporated into nothingness. The boy felt an irritating itch from his chest as a new link broke out, elongating his chain.
“You saved my life.” The boy’s attention was brought back to the camera man. “Th-thank you, I don’t know how I could possi-“ The boy seemingly unaffected by the gracious man interrupted “How did you do that?” The Camera was confused “Do what?”
The boy growled in annoyance “You made water.” The Camera was befuddled, he didn’t know how to respond to the strange child. The boy quickly ran out of patience waiting for a response and harshly grabbed on to the man’s chin pulling him close so the boy could scrutinize the tear tracks that ran from the old man’s eyes. The boy huffed with frustration “Open your mouth.” The man was about to ask why but as his mouth opened the boy quickly snatched the man’s tongue and painfully tugged at it to look. At this, the boy’s face furrowed into great aggravation “Damp.” He let go of the man and glared at him “When did you die?”
The old camera man crawled away from the angry boy, a little fear mixing with the awe "si-six days.”
The boy scoffed, “Don’t waste your own water like that. You’re just inviting fleshstalkers.” The boy turned away from the camera man and began the long slow process of rewrapping his chain around himself and his carried burden. The old camera man simply watched in unbelieving silence but as the boy finished and began walking away the man called out “Th-thank you!”
The boy stopped briefly “If I knew you were just a rookie, I would have never wasted the karma.” The boy marched off northwest into the night.