13 - Shift

Inside a luxurious, gold plated mansion sat shelves. Lots and lots of shelves racked with an uncountable amount of medicine bottles. A layer of fog seemed to coat the inside of the building, preventing anyone from seeing anything more than a meter away. Terror suddenly flooded Kakó’s entire being, urging him to run.

As he approached the end of the aisle, he noticed that there was no exit; simply another shelf that was, similarly, covered in small, glass bottles. Kakó quickly turned around eager to find another way out only to realize that the aisle behind him had been replaced with another shelf.

Jumping in fear, Kakó looked around him, noticing no way out. The shelves inched closer, causing the glass bottles to clash into each other. Desperate, Kakó looked for any way out, however the shelves were easily ten meters tall. Suddenly, the shelves stopped. However, the bottles didn’t. Glass rained down on Kakó like rain, causing him to curl up in a ball and close his eyes. Quickly, the sound of glass faded, causing Kakó to peek open his eyes.

There was blood everywhere. Startled, Kakó fell backwards, only to realize that there was blood there too. It covered his hands, sticking to them like syrup with the consistency of honey. He tried to wipe it on the floor, but that only made it run up his arms.

Again, he turned around; but this time, he saw a spear aimed directly at his face. A crimson spear that smelt of iron. Holding the spear was that noble: Dysosmos. The one that had Nazarius…

Kakó suddenly had the urge to puke. However, before he got the chance, the spear pierced through his mouth. “You little bastard! You killed him,” Dysosmos roared. Kakó wanted to refute, but he knew he couldn’t. It was all his fault.

Suddenly, a crowd of people both familiar and unfamiliar surrounded him, disgust etched into every single one of their features. “Murderer,” they chanted, “murderer!” Blood started to flood the room. First it could barely cover everyone’s feet, however it soon rose high enough to leak into the crowd’s throats. Despite this, not a single one stopped chanting until they were completely submerged.

Eventually, Kakó was the only one left. However, considering how fast the blood was rising, that wouldn’t be true for long. Seconds later, the blood seeped into his tongue, the taste of iron lingering pungently in the back of his throat. It filled his nostrils, preventing him from breathing.

It soaked into his eyes, his ears, his skin. Every part of him was soaked in blood, from his head to his toes. The blood formed an image, an imprint in his brain.

Nazarius. Nazarius was dead because of him. It was all his fault. He was a murderer.

Kakó’s eyes snapped open as gastric acid rose up from his stomach and out of his mouth. Kakó had no idea where it was all coming from: after all, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.

Licking his lips, Kakó realized that he needed water. Badly. Slowly, he got up off of the puke-covered ground and sneaked into the kitchen as quietly as he could. From the kitchen, he could see that his parents’ lamp wasn’t on, so he creaked open the front door as quietly as possible and briskly walked outside.

Immediately, the cool, fall breeze tickled Kakó’s nose, though the fresh air hardly made him feel any better. After carefully closing the door, he turned right, his gaze aimed at the sky. Something about it made him feel so small, his actions so unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

His bare feet slapped against the brick road, the sound bouncing off the houses and echoing back towards him. Other than that, the night was quiet.

With shaky breath, Kakó wove throughout the winding roads, occasionally having to take a detour thanks to the earthquake from a few days ago. However, due to the constant changing of routes, Kakó soon found himself in an unfamiliar area.

“Dammit, where am I,” he muttered under his breath. “I do not know.” Kakó stumbled forward at the sudden neutral voice that popped up behind him. Trembling, he turned back around, a humanoid shadow barely visible in the dim moonlight entering his vision. “Who are you,” he stuttered.

The shadow shrugged. “I do not know. Enough questions.” Hearing the sharp change in tones, Kakó flinched backwards. The figure reached to its side, its slender, firm arms grasping something, causing a metallic shrill to echo through the street. “Now then, if you would be so kind as to not move, I will do my best to make it quick.”

…

Compared to the hard, uneven floor, the bed was unimaginably comfortable. But, for some reason, Megálo felt even worse than when he woke up with twenty splinters in his back. It had only been a day since Ándras had vanished— no, technically it had only been around eighteen hours. However, this fact didn’t make Megálo’s heart slow down even a little.

As his eyes glared at the ceiling unmoving, a hushed knock echoed on the door. Adrenaline spiking, Megálo practically jumped towards the door and quickly opened the door. However, instead of the dirty blonde ice cube, the freakishly tall man from earlier sat in the doorway, a grim look painting his face.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Ah sir, did ya ever find Ándras,” Megálo asked while doing his best to not look nervous. In response, Pierre only pursed his lips. “I’m afraid,” he began, “Ándras has gone missing. Likely taken by the enemy.”

Megálo’s pupils shrunk. “What?” Pierre didn’t bother repeating, feeling as if it wouldn't change the situation. “I’ve got business to attend to now, mainly reports to make. But, since Ándras is technically MIA, I first needed to tell you that, until told otherwise, you have been temporarily promoted to the rank of Sergeant Major. Congratulations,” Pierre finished as he unenthusiastically tossed a badge towards Megálo. However, before Megálo could even object, Pierre walked out of the room and shut the door, leaving Megálo with nothing but his thoughts and an undeserved trophy.

…

The sea sparkled blue as its waves crashed onto the tan, sandy shore. The beach was covered in all manner of life spanning from crabs that magically stood on the sides of slippery rocks to terrestrial primates that lay on top of multicolored towels. In the middle of a hill that separated the beach from a city sat a black, paved road that ended in a large circle that was periodically dotted with white boxes. The sun’s rays floated through the sky as a four wheeled vehicle lacking a roof stormed down the road at an unsafe speed as unusual sounds blared from inside.

“Woooooooaaaaaahh we’re halfway there,” a young man screamed along with the music. He appeared to be about twenty, his brown eyes looking ahead towards the road as his hands floated on a smooth wheel that had large holes in the center.

The man rapidly approached the beach, his song ending just as he parked his vehicle within two white lines. “Damn, I love the 80’s. If their music is this good, the shit from the 2000’s is gonna be rad,” he chuckled to himself as he popped open the trunk of his car.

After rummaging around, he picked up a satchel of denim and poles and threw it over his shoulder before strutting into the hot grainy sand, his flip flops barely keeping his feet from being cooked.

After finding a somewhat isolated place, the man threw his sack onto the ground and carefully removed some of the contents. After a few minutes of work, the man had successfully assembled his tent.

The outside was made of a blue fabric, and the plastic windows were painted black. “Fucking finally,” he groaned as he reached towards the very bottom of his bag and pulled out a small plastic bag containing a handful of an unusual, green substance as well as some peculiar paper.

The man quickly rolled the organic matter up like a tortilla and pulled one more thing out of his bag— a lighter. “No cop is ever gonna find me here.”

The man laid down inside the tent, the stick with substances in it hanging out of his mouth while burning. The tent quickly started fogging up, however the hole in the roof near where the poles were tied together acted as ventilation.

As the man relaxed on the beach, a set of muffled footsteps seemed to approach his tent. Feeling that something was off, the man quickly smashed his blunt against the floor and zipped open his tent only to be met with a bright glare bouncing off of a golden badge.

“Sir, I don’t suppose you could tell me why a plume of smoke is coming from inside your tent,” the officer said while smirking. “Uh, I was…. Ah, fuck it,” the man spat before thrusting his fist square in the cop’s face. “Dammit man, why can’t you guys just let me chill? I tried hotboxing my car last time, but they caught me there too. Maybe if I tuck myself somewhere hidden they won’t find me.”

The officer reeled backwards, stunned that the man would do something so bold. Quickly, the officer reached for his belt and pulled a radio to his ears. “I got a man under the influence in front of me that just attacked me. He looks about 6 '2, brown eyes and hair, white male, requesting backup immediately. Over.”

However, as the cop looked back up, he was shocked to realize that the man had completely disappeared.

…

“Wait wait wait, what are you doing,” Kakó shrieked as he jumped backwards away from the figure. “Giving you your punishment,” the silhouette responded as it took a step closer to Kakó. “Punishment for what,” Kakó shrieked in response, though he had a feeling that he already knew the answer. “I do not know, but I can tell you did something bad. I’m going to kill you now.”

Kakó was almost as confused as he was scared. “I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve done something bad,” he continued after swallowing, “but why are you punishing me for it? Especially since you don’t even know what it was.”

The shadowy figure sighed. “I don’t just punish: I judge as well. And I have judged that you deserve punishment. Do the specifics matter?”

Kakó gaped at the figure while processing their words. Was this person an apostle of a god of judgment, perhaps? ‘If that’s the case,’ Kakó thought while stopping in his tracks, ‘then maybe I do deserve to die.’

“Fine,” Kakó scoffed as he lowered his neck and closed his eyes, “just make it quick.” The sounds of footsteps suddenly stopped. “Hm… that’s weird. Most of them usually try to bargain until the very end.” Kakó slowly opened his eyes and looked back up at the figure. “You are correct. I have done something horrible, something unforgivable. I deserve to die. So please, just do it already,” he mumbled, tears threatening to burst from his eyes.

The person lowered their sword. “…Truly peculiar. You are abnormal,” they blurted before sticking their hand out. Immediately, the sound of clinking chains tickled Kakó’s ears. “I will judge you again. Tell me, what crime have you committed?”

Kakó hesitated, not expecting an opportunity to explain his actions. However, his mouth started moving before he could even begin to think of what to say. “A couple days ago, my friend came to me and asked me to help him steal medicine from a pharmacy because his brother was sick. However, in the middle of the heist, I alerted the store owner in hopes of getting him in trouble. The girl I was attracted to liked him instead, so I hoped that doing this would place him under house arrest. However, instead, the store guard killed my friend, and his body was thrown into a trypa.”

Sweat poured out of Kakó’s body as he grew more confused about what was happening. “In other words, I am the reason my friend was murdered.”

The person stood silent and unmoving across from Kakó, causing him to clench his fists. Finally, as if answering his pleas, the chained object, which was revealed to be a scale, started glowing gold, revealing the figure’s porcelain skin, black hair, and face, which was mostly covered by a blindfold. The individual’s characteristics were quite plain and neutral, preventing Kakó from ascertaining their gender.

Snapping Kakó from his stupor, the sides of the scale shifted from side to side with little clacks, as if adding up each of the variables in the situation. “It seems that this situation is more complicated than I first believed,” the black-haired judge commented. “However…” With a loud crash, the scale suddenly shifted to one side. “I know already. Please, don’t make me wait any longer,” Kakó pleaded, just wanting to be put out of his misery.

“Very well. Kakó of Ftochós,” the person spoke, “I pronounce you guilty of second degree murder. Your punishment…” Kakó watched as the moonlight bounced off of the blade, giving it an almost enchanting glow as it was raised in the air. “…removal of your sense of touch. A mere fifth of the agony the innocent boy was sentenced to, however since murder was not intended, you will not have the same fate he did.”

The verdict processed in Kakó’s mind slowly. “You mean… you aren’t gonna kill me,” he whimpered. “I will not, though some may argue that this is worse. I recommend focusing on what you still have instead of what was lost. Now then, I must go. This town is full of criminals,” the figure said while sheathing its blade, the scale disappearing into thin air.

“Wait,” Kakó screamed. However, before he could continue his sentence, he suddenly felt extremely queasy. His vision doubled, and he soon fell to his knees. Before he could say another word, Kakó passed out in the middle of the stone road.