God Syndrome

Old Memories

 Kig sat on his bed, hearing the distant noise of rubble being transferred. They were blocking off the staircase to the ground floor. Budster didn't want to risk anymore men, didn't want to risk their own lives either. He told some of the men to move some rubble from the roof down there, to block off the door and windows first, and then the stairs. Didn't want to risk someone building camp downstairs either. His eyes scanned the room again, taking in the little details. There was a bang against the door.

"Better be sleepin'!" it was Budster.

"Can't with you bangin' at my door!" Kig huffed, throwing his legs onto his bed. He heard Budsters heavy sigh and then footsteps trailing away down the hall.

Throwing himself back, his head his the thin pillow and his back the hard mattress. To think Budster gave him the softer mattress.

"Like hell." he mumbled to himself, thinking back to when he first met the old geyser.

He was young back then, an orphan as well. His parents ambiguous attitudes caused their underlings to overrule them by using him. Putting the 'gods' son at risk, the underlings were easily able to kill off the two adults, leaving the small child behind to fend for himself in the post apocalyptic world. No one truly had the heart to kill off the small kid, but boy were they cold hearted enough to do anything else. The scar across his back ran deep and almost killed him. He had been whipped and every other kind of torture you could think of, causing his body was covered with scars, some long faded and some still vibrant. His hand absently trailed one that went from his lower chin to his collarbone.

He was running off from a crowd, bloodied and bruised when he ran into the old geyser, then in his youth. At the time, Kig was eight years old, oldster was in his early, maybe mid twenties. Kig had never bothered to ask the old man's age, it didn't matter, in the eyes of an assailant, age didn't matter, unless you were young apparently. Budster had swooped his childish body up and ran for dear life, eventually hot wiring a car and driving the hell outta there. Ever since the old man had a father like role in Kig's eyes, taught em everything he knew from building hoppin', dumpster divin' raidin', even his abrupt, headstrong attitude that Budster would get ever so slightly annoyed with.

Kig hadn't realized he fell asleep when he saw it, Budster bein' shot by some nobody who broke into the building. He felt himself screaming, but he didn't hear his own voice. His chest was tight and he couldn't breath. The gun was turned towards him, he couldn't move, his eyes locked on Budster's carcass. He heard the gunshot and his mouth moving, saying a word that he had long forgotten, that was long gone from his vocabulary.

"Kig." Buster's voice brought tears to his eyes, he felt like a kid again, lost and on their own. "Kig the hell is wrong with you?" his eyes glazed over.

"Kig wake the hell up!" he jolted awake, falling out of bed and onto the hard concrete floor.

"Ow. The hell Bud!"

"Don't 'the hell' me! You're the one in here screaming your head off and callin' for your dad. I'm surprised you even remember him."

"I don't."

"Then the hell was that about?" Budster leaned against the wall near the bedside, the table creaking beside him.

"Not to sure." Kig trailed off, staring at his hands. "All I know is that there was me, you, and some creep that broke in here. Shot ya down then fired at me."

"Then who the hell were you callin' Dad?"

"I was screamin' at you idiot, goin' and gettin' yourself shot like that." Budster rolled his eyes.

"Whatever kid, just don't go causin' trouble and gettin' yourself hurt."

"On it." he answered absentmindedly.

"Do ya?"

"I had you to teach me."

"Doesn't mean you're goin' by it." Budster got off the wall, his tone now seriousand parental. "Just cause I'm the one that taught ya, doesn't mean you're keepin' yourself safe."

"Bud I'm keepin' myself safe calm down." Kig kept his tone relaxed and cool despite the urge to back off as a child usually does when their parent is scolding them. "I'll be just fine."

"I ain't gonna be here forever."

"I know."

Budster left the room, leaving Kig in the quiet, dusty room. An earthy smell filling the room. Kig moved his legs up, resting his head on his knees and closing his eyes. Thinking back to his past brought bad memories to the front of his mind, as if he was walking in an old antique shop and found em straight through the window. Kig's hand instantly went to his fake foot.

He was with Bud at the time, he was still a stupid, reckless child. Kig was trying to teach him how to dumpster dive for supplies- he was halfway into the stinking, rotting bin and wasn't paying attention- and Kig was sitting on the other half of the lid. Kig was scannin' the area when he saw an old candy shop, and being an idiotic child, decided to stray from his mentor and go to the rotting building. Slidin' off the bin he ran across the street, feet getting cut from the rocks scrapin' across em. Sliding through the broken glass doors, he scanned the area, everything was rubble, falling to the ground. Rocks moved and fell beneath him as he was walking, searching for some kind of sweet, missing the distinct sound of boots clicking against tile.

There was a man, gun in hand coming through the hole in the wall from another store, spying the child, the man clicked his gun, getting Kig's attention.

"What're you doing alone kid?" the man's voice was low, deep and resonated against the empty walls.

"Bud's dumpster divin', but I think if we searched the stores we'd find more food." Kig answered honestly in naive bliss.

"Ah, I see." the man forced a smile. "Why don't I help you then?"

"I don't know..." Kig's warning bells were finally kicking into his system. "I think I should go back to Bud, there's nothin' in here." the man raised his gun, his smile no longer forced, but now crooked and full of malice.

"I don't think so kiddo." Kig's heart tightened and he was no longer thinking as he started running, flight or fight gripping his mind. He heard a gunshot, barely grazing his arm, but the shock was enough to make him lose his footing, slipping down the rubble of the old shop. Going to scramble up, he lost his breathe as he was held down by a booted foot on his back.

"Told ya kid, you ain't goin' to warn your Daddy."

"My dad's dead."

"Guess you'll be seein' him then."

There was another gunshot, it echoed against the barren walls. Kig tightened his eyes, expecting pain, but instead the foot lifted off his back.

"Get the hell up now!" Budster's voice echoed, and with childlike obedience Kig scrambled up to run to the older man. As he went to run though, there was a searing pain against his ankle, but with the small adrenaline he had in his body, he ran to Budster. There was another gunshot. Budster turned to him, anger drawn onto his young features. "The hell were you thinking?!" Budster scolded, his hair was just starting to get into his eyes. Kig opened his mouth to respond, but then he fell to the cold tiled floor and darkness surrounded him.

Shaking his head, he brought himself out of that train of thought. It wasn't the present, he had to remind himself. It was time to get over it and forget it, dwelling on it wasn't gonna bring him his foot back. He slowly got up from his bed, looking into the glass they called a mirror on his dresser. His eyes had bags under them, and his hair was shaggy and greasy, a shower or bath wasn't in sight for a couple years now. His hair went to his chin, the last time he had a hair cut was when they had an unrusted blade in their weaponry and his teeth were yellow from not brushin'.

Slipping off his bed, he went back up to the ladder, the guard gave an unresponsive greeting as Kig slipped out onto the buildings roof. Rubble slipped underneath his feet, some hitting the metallic door, and he climbed down to the ladder, and then the next building over. He knew Budster was gonna be upset with him, Budster had warned to never go out without at least one other person, but he preferred that Kig went with him. At Least Bud couldn't ground em, he wasn't his dad.