The point of Kid’s shovel bit into the cold, hard dirt. He stomped on its head, pushing it another finger into the ground. With all his weight, he pushed on the handle, levering the dirt out of the ground. Then he tossed yet another handful of dirt onto his growing pile. Sweat dripped from his brow, chilling his skin in the cool air.

The only light came from the gaps in the wall where beams of sunlight shined through, illuminating his mother’s pale corpse. The iron bit into the frosty ground again. Kid repeated the motions, grunting with the effort. He had been doing this for over an hour with the shovel he borrowed from Melna. He had barely made it three feet into the ground.

He dug again, bits of dirt rolling from his pile back into the hole. He would have sighed had he not been breathing so heavily. The air entering his lungs was oddly fresh, the cold air keeping the body from rot. He didn’t know how long she’d been there and the fact that he just left her there made his stomach turn. He’d made a mess of everything.

The shovel grated against a rock and Kid cursed, tossed the shovel aside and fell to his knees. With shaky hands, he brushed the dirt away from the rock. Dread washed over him as a cracked, round, white surface greeted him. Kid dug harder around it. Dirt caked beneath his fingernails, but he hardly noticed as he pulled dirt away.

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The grinning face of a skull slowly emerged. It seemed to smile at him from the dirt. Kid shuddered. His mother’s wouldn’t be the only shallow grave here. Kid picked up the shovel and tossed it from the hole. He couldn’t stomach the idea of digging further. His breath came in ragged gasps and he leaned against the edge, trying to catch his breath. Once it slowed, he pulled himself from the grave.

His mother’s body was stiff, and as unyielding as steel. Her limbs were splayed awkwardly, making it hard to roll her across the dirt. She fell across the lip of the hole with a sickening thump, her breasts landing across the skulls face. Kid sighed, the bastard could thank him in the afterlife.

He turned to fetch his shovel, pausing as the glittering gold strewn across the floor caught his eyes. Kid took a moment to collect the coins and put them back in their pouch. Kid stood by the grave, hefting the gold. It was heavy, enough for him to live in something resembling comfort for the rest of his miserable life. Looking at the gold, he realized he could run. Flee to another town where nobody had ever heard of Kid Noson. He licked his lips.

Kid tossed the bag into the grave, the coins spilling out across his mother’s body. He bent over to pick up the shovel in his blistered hands, the skin having long since fled his palms. As he thrust his shovel into the pile of dirt he whispered to himself, “Greed is the death of thieves.”