TRIPPLE ON

One Purifier

Over the sky and land's intersection stood a wide, lanky silhouette of black. The fumes released through massive ducts created a floating beast, cloaking the odd shape from the Sun. Far away from the industrial giant sat the quiet rural town of Gershom, a sanctuary from it's older brother. Many citizens flee and seek refuge within its farmland, hoping to find a better life. Pleading to confess and ask for forgiveness. And they do. They scream their sin until there's nothing left. They peel their dirty skin and burn it as a sacrifice. For the Sun is unable to see through the hazardous smoke of Jerusha, and without its sight, all men are unholy. Everyday, screams are heard. Fire burns. The ashes litter the town in small dark patches. By nightfall, natural residents would collect the ashes and pour them into a massive gourd, locked away in a cellar.

"The cellar protects us from whatever sin may still be alive and unbent. It... changes people if you're not too careful... We usually burn them too." Jair, the towns innkeeper, informs a resident as they sit and drink tea in the lobby. His listener, a tall man with a pale and emotionless complexion, analyzes Jair's information quietly. Jerusha is a city of omen and must be eradicated. But what can he do. He's a mere thing sitting his life away, listening to the innkeeper's tales. "Um. I don't mean to pry... But you've been here an awful lot of times, and you've never given me your name." Jair picks up his teacup and takes a sip. The silent character glances at the innkeeper before fixing his eyes at his untouched tea once more.

"I'm The Batter. I was made to purify the world. And I failed." The Batter says with little to no feeling. He's stripped from power. He's no longer the savior nobody knew. He's a resident of Gershom, a well known... Thing. Taller than the rest of the townspeople, soulless and white eyed. Everyone knew him without a doubt. Weak and humble, he is now under an oasis of compressed safety and vulnerability. Gershom is not a safe place, he noted. It is always in the face of danger, one newcomer after the other.

"That's... Interesting," Jair says with his soft and shy voice. His fingers dance around the teacup anxiously, feeling its soft porcelain surface. "Are you, umm... Comfortable telling me... Why you failed?"

"I'm not."

"...Okay..."

"I'll be leaving now." The batter stands and pushes his chair in, suddenly noting his cup full of tea. He picks it up and drinks its contents, later setting it back down on its dish.

"Okay... Be careful." Jair collects the teacups and takes them away, shaking quietly as he watches The Batter leave the inn. He's worrying about him, wondering where he will go now. If he'll ever come back. It was always like that. The Batter would leave. Everyone would wonder if he will return. He does. The story repeats. Today is different. He exits the inn and heads north. Some residents stop their cleaning and watch as he lowly walks away from Gershom. There is no intent. There is no clear reason. But he's leaving Gershom. Leaving for a very long time. Jair can see it too, from the building window. His soul is awake and shaking furiously for The Batter's safety. "He's not coming back this time... Isn't he...?" Jair whispers to himself, breathing heavily under the weight of a muted panic. Step by step, the town grows quieter. Their resident, their first resident, is leaving.

Walk to find a purpose,
Walk to find your soul,
Walk faster to leave,
Walk faster to breathe,
Run to find your purpose,
Run to leave,
Run to be the savior,
Run to escape reality.

"He's... Gone..."

-ON ON ON-

Jerusha, an enormous city up north, vomits smoke from its buildings and factories. The ugly silhouette of the city now glows to life as The Batter walks towards it. If he can gain his powers back by entering the city, he can purify it and bring peace to Gershom and whatever town that sat around this supergiant. The air grows thinner every step, but he moves on. There is no point in turning back now. The Batter sees a light that beckons him to move forth. To come and take it while the opportunity lasts. It's a weak flame and with time flowing faster, it can burn out before he can reach it. But the world suddenly becomes a blur. The Batter's out of breath and choking inside the thin air of Jerusha.

How do people live inside raw smoke. It's painful. It hurts my lungs. I'm dying.

The flame is almost nothing at all as The Batter falls down to his knees and coughs. A sound is heard, a distant mewing as The Batter closes his eyes and falls over. People come out of the smoke. But can you crawl back in?

"It seems this man here is in need of immediate medical attention. Make haste and help me take him to my apartment."