Bloodlust: Sliver of Moonlight

2

Damien and his father's work isn't what normal people would consider a job. Some people have simple desk jobs. Damien and his father both work for the San Diego Anti-Mining Corporation: a governmental-funded organization that is, to the public eye, tasked with going into underground mines and excavating for any lost workers or minerals. That, however, is only a cover for their true intentions: to find a new unlimited source of power to fully develop a secret peacekeeping program. When Damien and his father finally got there, they donned their bright yellow hazmat suits and gas masks and entered the dark and wet mine.

"Took you long enough, Masters," a man in an orange suit snapped, walking toward the father and son duo.

"Sorry, Mr. Yakamora," Damien's father said over the clamoring of pickaxes and hammers, "We had a...slight delay." He looked at Damien with a stern expression, as if he blamed him for being late. Damien scoffed at his father and walked deeper and deeper into the mine. When he was sure he was out of earshot, he took up a pickaxe and hammer and began hitting the walls of the mine. For hours upon hours, Damien began hacking at the edge of the mine, constantly wiping the sweat off his brow.

"This is work?" Damien scoffed, "Feels more like slavery than working." He hacked and hacked until he heard a bell ring throughout the mine. The lunch bell. He dropped his axe and made his way outside to the lunch area, where his father and Mr. Yakamora were waiting. Mr. Yakamora looked significantly older than his father, with steely black eyes stretched into a permanent squint. He stood opposite of Damien's father who had his back to Damien. Damien walked up to his father and caught a small snippet of the conversation.

"...there's a lot at stake with this," Mr. Yakamora spoke in his thick, native Japanese accent, "If you find some sort of source of power, you can earn a fortune..."

"I understand, sir," Damien's father sighed, "But this is a lot of work and stress, especially for my son..."

"I don't care what is stressful on you and your son," Mr. Yakamora snapped again, standing close to Damien's father, "If you don't get your ass working, you and your son will be out of a job." He walked away, knocking into Damien as he passed.

"Watch where you eavesdrop, kid," Mr. Yakamora said, still walking away. Damien snarled silently and went to see his father. His father was sitting on a bench, a small glass bottle of coke in his hand.

"How can you take that bullshit from that asshole?" Damien said, standing in front of his father, eyeing him down with mild disappointment.

"First: language," his father sighed in sadness, "Second: Damien, you know I would leave if I could, but let's assume I did. What will we do? Where would we go?"

"Anywhere but here," Damien snapped, looking back at Mr. Yakamora, who was busy raging at another worker, "I hate that fucking asshole."

"I know you hate him," Damien's father sighed, handing his son a bottle, "But give it some time. We won't deal with him anymore."

"You said that last time," Damien responded sarcastically, "And the time before that...and the time before that...and the time before that...and the time before th-"

"Okay, I get it," his father laughed. He stood up and began to approach him when the bell to end lunch sounded. Every worker dropped their assorted sandwiches, drinks and salads and got back to work.

"Guess lunch time is over," Damien said, looking back to the workers, "And now back to slaving in an abandoned mine." Damien walked back to his work, his fist clenched when he passed Mr. Yakamora. Damien's father sighed and followed his son.

"This will not end well for anyone," he whispered to himself as he entered the mine once again.