A hot summer day scalds the asphalt and rocks of the town of Trinketshore. In the shadows of the narrow alleys, an indeterminate human was shrouded by a black garment, absorbing the very heat instead. He was half-naked without it, his clothes ragged like being eaten away by a pack of wolves.
Caleb Dune sought to find comfort in the shade. His face was red hot and covered in sweat. His eyes glared wildly, and his hands scraped the skin of his neck. An anxious Caleb shattered the trash container and murmured incoherently.
"Meth, meth… where the fuck are you?"
Sometimes his voice was a little louder.
"I—need—that—thing! Fucking mage, I know ye can hear me! Come out of yer hiding hole!"
The figure of an elk-headed magus emerged from the shadow of the trash can, granting his wish. "Ready to serve, sire."
Now even though Caleb himself asked for his presence, the ultimate junkie still could not get away from being gasped! He looked back right away to find himself a black-robed figure wearing a fork-horned beast's head with a protruding neck. Such a stature would never get people used to seeing it.
"You! Thank the gods." Caleb's mouth was bubbling. "I need that meth again! A bunch of teens exhausted all my power! I want revenge! I WANT TO MELT THOSE FUCKING WEE BAIRNS!"
"Exhausted your strength?" The mage saw his emaciated body turning red from being scratched. The black magic on his body was almost imperceptible. "That magic is too powerful to be drained away like that. Who did it, and what kind of magic did he use?"
"Not a 'he', a 'she'! She's using some kind of magic baw, releasing bright blue energy—FUCK IT! To Hades with the details. Jist gie me the damn purple rock!"
The mage did not need any details from him indeed, for he already knew what Caleb meant. Even though his true face wasn't revealed behind the elk's neck, Caleb could sense the mage was in intense hysteria.
"I see. I understand." The elk let out a half-hearted laugh behind his mask. "To think I'm this 'fortunate'. It's nearly impossible, but it has been predicted. We're getting closer to the Big Design! I have to inform the others."
Caleb just gawked at the elk's muttering. "What in the bloody Hades are you chirping about?"
"Nothing, this is none of your affairs. But here, receive this gift from me to you," the magician gave a lump of Protos particle three times the size of the last night's sample. "It is free. Have a pleasant time with it."
Caleb's eyes lit up but also showed distrust at the same time. The addict then snatched the stone from the mage's hand, turned around, and walked briskly without even saying a word.
"My advice to you. Don't suck in all of it at once."
"Aye, right, tosser! Hahaha!" Caleb chortled and left the mage all alone.
Under the bridge, the ultimate junkie had gathered all the fancy apparatus needed to execute his 'lunch'. He kept all the smoke in a large glass jar to hold it in.
Lacking fortitude, the addict inhaled the stone that sublimates into magic gas. None of its essence escaped the suction of his nose. His body healed and blackened as desired. He felt a massive scale of magic energy flooding into his being. He finally rose in power and was ready to conquer the world again!
Suddenly, his body became uncomfortable. His innards were getting hotter, so hot he felt his digestive organs melt. Caleb let out an earsplitting screech, his layered voice buzzing around the river! His black skin scalded and melted like hot mud. His eyes popped! A terrible stench spread to the corners of the bridge. All fish in the river floated to death from the pungent smell that poisoned those poor creatures! Caleb died the same way he slew the old grandmother that night.
Caleb overdosed on Protos particle.
***
Trinketshore was an insignificant town. That did not mean it was full of old people enjoying the rest of their lives, thus making it a completely safe and peaceful haven.
The Trinketshore townspeople also live side by side with men with pure dark desires. Sinners and the depraved lived among them.
Not long ago, black magic had plagued the small town once again—something that had not happened for some time since what the Caledonians called 'the Stoatin' Magic War'. However, this incident was not the beginning of the shaky peace in that small town.
Went back a few months further. Three people were caught dumping a vat filled with solid cement, containing the body of a girl, identified as Esmer Philo. She had been declared missing weeks before. Esmer Philo was the only child of John Philo, an art teacher at Alicia's academy.
An investigation was carried out immediately. It was revealed that Esmer was held captive, tortured, raped, and then killed by, incidentally, the sons of renowned conglomerate families.
No one could ever imagine how John Philo would react when he heard his only daughter died in such a horrible manner. The man was shattered to pieces. The world had trapped him in a vicious cycle of endless depression. His life alone was meaningless. Might as well just die because he had nothing left to fight for. But John wasn't planning on ending himself alone. He wanted to bring those three cursed creatures back into Hades' arms.
Unfortunately, with such a small city, the limited number of law enforcers could not solve this case as smooth as a satin knit. In fact, they made it even more complicated.
It was the last day of the trial when the judge would give a verdict. The three defendants sat in front of the prosecutor, the beacon of justice. The audience awaited what kind of retribution will be inflicted on the three depraved humans.
The small number of civil guards and prosecutors at Trinketshore alone was a problem. What if most of them were corrupt? It didn't take long for the safe and sound of Trinketshore to be swallowed up in chaos. The law enforcement in charge of this matter had apparently accepted bribes by their families to expedite administering the lightest potential sentence; free, if necessary.
The judge sentenced them to prisoners in their own homes!
They crushed an innocent girl for their barbarous lust, and instead, they'll take refuge in their own castle, playing games and drinking cocktails, sticking out their two-fingered insult to the townspeople! This decision stirred turmoil throughout the raging Trinketshore. Nadine even threw her one thousand one curses in front of telemedia. They denounced such a light punishment for a group of female massacres.
John Philo growled half to death. Feeling possessed by the judge's decision, he stuck out his gun, trying to shoot the three pigs. What a shame, the civil guards caught him before all the bullets ever came out from the barrel. The miserable wolf failed to tear down their final shelter.
Activists and alert residents immediately gathered in the town square and town hall to stage a protest. They became even more violent when the father of his late daughter was dishonourably paraded into a machine carriage while they escorted the culprits like state officials. Even though the town square was restricted after yesterday's black magic incident, then again, a battle raged on there between the trash-throwing protesters and the civil guards.
***.
The local penitentiary was more likely a psych ward. The cry of the locked-up John echoed down the office hallways. His hysterical roar hinted at the deepest sorrow mixed with explosive fury. He banged his head many times, wishing his head would burst and die on the spot instead of enduring the unbearable bitterness of life. He was full of frustration. A failed human being who couldn't even touch a piece of cloth from the murderers.
At one time, the xanadu walls of the empty prison darkened. The light that came from the vent turned into murk night. The primordial void devoured John and the rest of the cells. Did he manage to take his life?
John tried to make sense of his pitch black surroundings. All of a sudden he saw an elk's head—the only one visible beyond the void, hovering here and there, playing with John's eyes. 'Where am I now? Am I in the afterlife already?'
The elk's head finally ceased its motion and turned to the helpless, middle-aged man. His snout didn't move, but he seemed to deliver a message through an inner voice.
"My deep condolences for your lovely daughter, sire," said the elk's head.
John half shuddered, yelling for an answer. "Who are you? Where am I? Am I in the afterlife? I want to see my daughter! Where is my daughter? Tell me, hurry!"
"Your daughter is not here, sir Philo," replied the elk's head. "You are not in the afterlife. You are still sitting on your knees in front of your cage."
The elk's head continued, "But I know that these three culprits have no right to enjoy their lunch at their palace, while you are rotting here, demanding justice for one that is so near yet so dear to you."
"Not just the three of them," retorted John. "Judges, civil guards, lawyers, those evil tycoons! All those Trinketshore hypocrites! They make fun of me and defecate my daughter's tomb. Those maggots must have bribed the whole town! Bastard! BASTARD!"
"So what are you thinking right now, sir Philo?"
"I...," John gripped the pillar of the bars that weren't actually visible, but he seemed to have memorised its location. "I wanted to toy with them the way they played me. I want to torment them all until they themselves beg to die, before I take them to Hades with me!"
Beneath the elk's head, right in the middle of it, glowed a boulder of lilac cracked stone. The stone floated and drew closer to the man called John Philo.
"You cannot punish all of them by relying on your strength alone."
John Philo rubbed his eyes. "W-what's that thing?"
"This particular thing… is a fracture of the power of a god. Bring them the justice… by the power of almighty, my good lord. Dispose those miscreants into the deepest abyss of Tartarus." []