00:00:09
Life, or a big chunk that stinks all the time. There wasn't much difference between them for Killian and he did not expect it to get better. Killian strode out of the slums to the dumping grounds outside the Slum Territories. Two boys followed him. One was about as old as Killian, and twice as fat. The another looked so frail. He was about five years younger than Killian.
"Do you have everything you need?" The frail one asked his comrade. They exchanged a few words.
Killian checked his reflection in the Ferrera River. At nearly six feet height, with long, frail looking but strong arms he looked like he was determined to get a week's worth of pay today. But these were the Dumping Grounds. Luck here was thin. The only thing that was obvious was death.
His long black locks were brushed aside by the wind. His blue eyes watched intently for the security detail. For last five years, he hadn't failed to complete his mission. His work was simple. Get to the dumps. Get everything that seems precious. Return and gamble things for money.
Killian sighed, dismissing the two rookies as he adjusted the straps of the trash bag in his back.
The large dial at the clock tower, a few metres from the dumping ground told Killian that he had a few minutes to get his shit together. Would it be another day with a chance encounter with the long, worm like monsters? Sure. Would he die? Maybe.
Killian stood firmly outside the gate. Any time now, he must charge in.
The Dumping Grounds were located a little further than the Yerren District's limit. They were marked with wired fencing on the side. A large board stood there. In was written in the Yarkos Language. Trespassing was prohibited.
"Come on, you slob! We gotta pick out the finest stuff out of the garbage." Killian yelled out. The two new juniors who were with me on the interim training were already lagging.
00:00:10
As a part of the Slum's Trash pickers Squad, they had a schedule that was needed to be followed. The Slums were a hard place to survive in. The sources of income were next to nothing. Minimum wage was at least a hundred drauchers for anyone who wanted to afford three warm meals, even in the slums.
Drauchers were the most basic currency in the Estemont Kingdom. There were also other currencies. Like a bronze coffer, a silver coffer and a gold coffer. The coffers were made from precious metals and getting even one of them could ensure three weeks' worth of meal. As per the Estemont Calendar, that was equal to nearly twenty-one days.
But even then, it was hard to make at least a fifty drauchers doing jobs that were high paying in the Blue Bloods Territory. This was all part of the Scum Blood curse.
Killian and his allies were wearing the thickest robe that would make the glass pieces impenetrable. A large trash bag was fastened on their backs with a stretchy material. Killian had the advantage of big boorish hands that were accustomed to cuts. Hence, he passed onto the gloves.
But the truth was that he lacked the thirty coffers he had to pay to get a nice pair. Gloves were thick sheaths of fabrics that were sewn together to form a thick, protective layer. They were mostly made of cow's hide. Or sheep's hide.
For the two new recruits, Killian had somehow arranged a pair of gloves, each. It would help them pick up trash without nicking themselves on metal or glass. Rag picking wasn't that easy. A thousand diseases plagued the dumps. Needless to say, that on a bad day, one might even come across all sorts of worms and insects.
But that was the least of their worries.
"Move your fucking hands before the worm climbs out," Killian barked.
It was the first time when he was accompanied by someone from the Slums. All the other times, he only had to worry about returning alive alone. Now, he had to step in and lead the two rookies too.
They seemed enthused at first. But their faces dropped as they watched the heaps of garbage. It was a disarming sight.
About ten huge hills of garbage was dumped in there. Most of them included the filthiest of things. Raw and ripped fruits, leftover food, torn clothes, bottles of liquor, and then there was entrails of cattle, dead fish, blood and other organs.
Its pungent stench rose in the air.
"I think I am going to throw up," Ruben, the fatter one of them two said. Killian frowned. He was not equipped to handle tantrums.
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"You can go home, or go big," Killian said, crossing the fence.
A huge wall separated the Slums from the Blue Regiment territories. It casted a long shadow over them, as the Moon Goddess, Raia rode her chariot across the skies.
Killian stomped through, walking over sticky and slimy trash. He tried to balance himself, so as to not fall. His stance was quick. It showed years of experience. The rookies struggled to not stumble upon a heap themselves.
"Faster, and faster!" I cried, looking into the pile and picking up all the shining things. Any thing that can be glass. Or metal. Or Gold. Or money.
"B- B- But-"
"Good Garbage! Stop stuttering, Ruben. I know it's your first day here but do you want to die?" Killian cried out.
'Was this a bad idea?' Killian thought.
"N- No," the boy stuttered. Ruben was a lost cause.
It was shameful enough that the two were nearly the same age and yet, Ruben was worse than the younger one. Geoff tried to balance himself, walking with his hands in air.
It stabilized his posture. He followed Killian's trail, as the three of them made it to the centre of the Dumping Ground.
'Maybe it's better to get him off the team before he dies', Killian thought.
"For all the scum blood that's been flowing through you, I want you to show me what you got!" Even when they were still rookies, they couldn't let his effort go to waste. They should at least get as much as they can before the monsters show up.
Killian picked onto a pile with his bare hands. He dived deeper, paying no heed to the sharps. Whatever it was, the cuts were worth it. He could see glints of shiny things. Some metal. Some cents. A sharp brass bell. It would be only a matter of time before they would run out of things. And life.
"Killian, I am not sure if this is useful-" Geoff babbled.
'Idiots. Wasting time when we should be getting the most out of this,' Killian sneered.
"For the next one minute. No talking. Move your hands. When the timer hits 00:01:11 we will be as good as dead men!" He commanded.
He picked up the stuff and stashed them in the basket he carried over his bag. There was no use ruining the bag every day. So, he carefully placed the steal in a large wooden box. It did take away a few good minutes from his speedy moments but it was a good investment.
"Take what you can. I need you to clear out in ten...." I shouted.
Ruben's bag still looked lighter. While Geoff looked confused still. He had picked onto most of the glass items. But it wasn't enough. There was no way they could make it out with bigger bags.
Killian carefully made a beeline for the exit. His head watched around for any signs of people. Or monsters.
"All clear!" Killian announced.
That's when it caught his eyes. The shiny, blue stone. It looked like a jewel. It was probably misplaced in the trash.
'This might be a jackpot!' Killian thought.
A gem like that was sure to fetch him a great deal of money. Some would even say that it was worth a year's warm meals.
Just as Killian was about to retrieve it, Killian heard a sharp cry. Ruben stood with his hands bleeding. He held a crushed liquor bottle in his bare hands.
"Ruben! Where are your gloves?" Killian cried.
The great dial of clock tower showed all the time they had been missing.
"Killian, I- I am bleeding," Ruben called out.
'The fuck. This is going to turn into a shit show', Ruben called out.
"What did I tell you about gloves? Fucking wear them!" Killian cried out. His blood would be all over. They would be easily discovered by its scent.
The timer snoozed in his head.
Eight.
"Fucking fine, then. Geoff get out of here," Killian barked the order.
Unlike Ruben, Geoff had more sense than to question me. Killian tore off a piece of fabric from his robe and wrapped it around Ruben's bleeding palm.
Six
"Get the fuck out of here. Now," Killian cried out. Aware of the gem's presence, he slid it under his shoe. He knew he couldn't let either one of them to take it either.
Four.
"But, I cannot leave you, alone," he argued.
'Damn it.'
Two.
"We are going to fucking die!" Killian hauled at him. "Get out of here," He spitted.
Zero.
Shit.
The sky turned red again. It marked the hour of nobody. The Gods too hid behind the thick red veil of the skies. The moon disappeared… The Sun God had paid the price of not heeding the warning.
They hadn't seen the Sun since the last Summer Festival. That was Twenty-Five years ago. Killian was born in a world with no sun. Not that anything was bright in his life. And now, he was going to die because of a foolish mistake.
"We need to hide, Ruben!" Killian cried. He dragged him behind a big pile. Maybe they could just make out before the worms come in.
The fuck am I talking about! That has never happened.
"Now, when I tell you to run, you do not question me and run? Okay? Go with Geoff," I pressed.
"But you-"
Killian heard the cracking sound. The hair on the back of his neck rose. The wincing sounds. The slow creeping movements of the worms danced before his eyes. He crept to the corner, watching from the corner of his eye.
He had watched those monsters before, but not from such distance. They were enormous beings. Their bodies gilded with a layer of metallic lustre. Their bodies were not continuous. Instead, they looked like ringed compartments that were stringed together. They moved through the heaps of the garbage effortlessly.
The large body of the monster curled up, before it let itself loose. Its shell disappeared. From where its mouth emerged were two long wincers. They were actively eating up at the garbage. Something lustrous went up its wincer as he held it up.
'What the fuck do I do- 'Killian was caught in a dilemma. He knew he couldn't keep himself from being discovered by the monsters. The fence was close enough. If he could get through, they could easily make it out in time.
"Run!" Killian yelled.
The worm's mouth opened up as he gobbled a heap of garbage in. The whole pile emptied into his mouth, and his wincers move in a delightful glee.
Ruben, the idiot that he was choose the exact moment when the worm's wincer piped in his direction. Soon, it would pick up any movement and leave the piles and come after him.
"No, Ruben!" Killian called out. But the damage was done.
"Killian-" he howled, as the wincer wrapped onto his leg.
It held Ruben mid-air, his body floating upside down as it dropped it into his mouth.
Bones crunched in the worm's mouth. Blood oozed and stuck to the slit opening of its mouth. Delighted, when he was done eating Ruben, the worm's mouth opened once again. It spitted what looked like a cocktail of entrails, brain and eyes.
Killian fought the bile raising in his throat. His experience taught him that it was easier to escape the worms without making noise. Killian's chest heaved. Another worn moved closer, it fed off the remains of Ruben. Killian eyes darted to Geoff's silhouette running away from the fence.
Killian's heart raced. He watched as the worms sucked onto more junk. The worms cluttered.
The time. Killian was running out of time.
00:10:10
There was only one way to get through. Killian knew he had to make it through the fence or, he would end up getting murdered. Soon, the hour of nobody would come to an end. The Gods would sleep. The sky would turn grey. And the Blue bloods will be out.
Some said that the world they lived in wasn't always wretched. The Gods they no longer prayed to loved them once. The shoulders that carried large sacs of garbage were once donning the finest of silk.
Then, one fateful night everything changed. The sky turned red, and the Gods called out.
And then, the Blue Bloods took over. Some said that the wall never existed before that day. But then the Gods spoke. Their blessing casted a towering wall that separated the Slums from the Blue Blood Regiments.
The Blue Bloods were blessed with the powers of Gods. Their bloodlines were coveted and destined to flourish. They were to live in the Capital and their heirs were to rule over the realm.
And the Scum Bloods were destined to a life of wretchedness. Their lineage was cursed. Some said it was for what they had done. A price for their sin.
But was it really necessary for him to die a pitiful death because he was a scum? Killian's thoughts raced in his head.
"And henceforth, the crown shall always rest on a Blue Blood's head.
The time has come for the Scums to return. Abandon thy riches, and homes. Give it all up for those who deserve it," Gods said.
Killian moved his foot, as the gilded gem stared at him and death breathed down his neck.
