Short Stories

ICCH

The Gas is gone. There is no more oil. The last of the Coal is dug from the ground. Humanity is on the brink of panic. With no other options, we deployed our last hope, the International Child Coal Harvesters, or ICCH (Itch). 

 The world had gone through a lot of changes since the end of Coal, or the EOC as it is most commonly referred to. Once humanity realized that what they were doing was unsustainable, we cut down on Coal, Oil and Gas power by two thirds, but it wasn't enough. Eventually we ran out of options, and we were saved by the powers of one man. Santa Claus. Everyone knows, or knew, that Santa wasn't real. That he was just a children's tale. Well, turns out he wasn't. And when the government found out that he gave naughty children lumps of Coal, they employed children under the age of fifteen to be Itchers, which is the slang term for someone who works for the ICCH, or International Child Coal Harvesters. The ICCH was a globally funded organisation which employs children to be as evil, as naughty, and as rebellious as they can be. They are completely exempt from the law, and are the only thing between humanity and a global catastrophe.

Itching is probably the best job in the world. For example, what say there's this really tasty candy you like and you want one? You can just walk into the store, steal some, wait for the cops, flash your license, turn over the ones you haven't eaten, and walk home. You don't have to worry about being arrested because after all, you are a valuable member of society. I've even had cops ask for my autograph! Santa doesn't care whether you let yourself get caught, in his eyes, you stole. The cop probably got a bit of coal from letting you off the hook too, so it's a win win. Someone did the calculations a couple years back, and discovered that frequent petty theft and bullying are the two most efficient ways of upping that coal haul on that magical day, at least in terms of coal gained / time spent. I walked down the street pondering this, insulting people as I pass, "That dress makes you look fat, hey shorty, excuse me but are you alright? That face looks painful." and I get responses like, "Why thank you! Good day to you good sir! I really appreciate the service you provide for this country." It's so backwards, but I am most certainly not complaining!

My name is Jacob, Jacob Fullow. Rank 13 Itcher employed at the ICCH and climbing. I'm 13 years old and have been Itching since I was 10, the youngest age you're allowed to be an Itcher. I still attend school, I can't be an Itcher my whole life, which is mainly where the problem lies. While Santa does give coal to people older than 15, it's generally only small amounts. While kids under the age of 15, who are the biggest focus for Santa, tend to bring in much bigger hauls. That's why before I hit that magic age, it's my dream to be Rank 01 Itcher in the World. I work hard every day, my mind is focused on the task every minute. It was just last year that I started taking Itching seriously, before that I was small time, you know. A push here,a jibe there. But now I have to think bigger. People steal from houses. Mundane. People steal from banks. Pedestrian. People steal from cities. Noteworthy. But I'm going to blow the competition out of the water. It's my big secret. It's the plan I've been unfolding in my mind since that fateful day last year. Because on that day while I was looking at the map of the world it hit me. No one. Had ever. Stolen a country.