God Syndrome

Leaving City Bounds

 Rubble slipped out from under his feet as he walked back to that old candy store, specks of red could still be seen on the ground, having yet to be washed away by the rain. It was years ago, yet still fresh in his mind. The ground was cracked in every way and littered by decayed and fallen giants that he never got to see fulling standing. Some of their skeletons still stretched up tall, while others were cut short. Soft green light radiated from some of them, those he knew to stay away from. Glass littered the ground as well, the giant's many eyes were hollowed out yet they were still there and could see, but no longer would they be protected by the forces of nature like they once were.

He stopped in front of the candy giant, the smallest from the rest. If he tried to building hop to this roof from another, he'd end up breaking his good leg and denting his foot beyond use and repair. He slipped through the door, not noticing the slight cut he got on his back. A skeleton still laid on the floor, sprawled out as if ready to crawl. There was one too many holes in its skull, making its cause of death as obvious as the sky is blue. A knife was in one hand and a gun in the other, no one had ever bothered to search the skeleton and take the belongings it still bore. Not until now.

Bending down, he took the still polished gun from its boney hand, setting it between his shirt and jacket, he could feel its shape against the small of his back. He gently picked up the knife as if holding a precious item, the blade still gleamed in areas where there wasn't red painted onto it, it could easily chip off however. The man wore a jacket, just slightly torn and frayed at the ends, a belt around what used to be his hips, pouches and holsters galore. Quickly snatching the jacket and belt he stood, spinning on his feet to come face-to-chest with a much taller man.

"And what're we doing out here by ourselves?" he had been asked that too many times, by too many people, and often got the same kind of reaction.

"Nothin'." he gripped the knife's handle tighter, his hand hidden underneath the jacket.

"Well, what do you have there? Some good loot?"

"No, nothing important, just this jacket." he looked up at the man through his bangs. "Want to see?" with that he sent his arm out in one fluid motion, his other hand snatching the coat from it. Warm liquid hit him, surrounding his hand and the blade. The man almost seemed unaffected, hand enclosing around Kig's throat.

"Well someone's gotta teach ya some manners." Kig took the knife out, using all of his strength to get the buried dagger from the man's grizzly stomach. Kig's arm flew out again, burying back into the man's stomach as it started to become harder to breath, Kig could feel his face starting to swell and redden. The man let go, falling to the ground. Kig greedily took in air as he looked down at the man, a pool of red forming beneath him, the same substance trailed down Kig's arm, covering his hand and the blade. The jacket still remained in his other hand.

"Candy stores can go on down to hell." he muttered to himself, starting to walk again. "Sent straight up more like." he passed by a bookstore, and wondered if things would've been any different if he went in there, then again he could only read the simple words found on signs, the only remaining books he ever found children's books, and it had been years since he touched one of those. He could barely read that's right. "Come from hell, burn in hell them candy stores."

Returning home he sent the jacket flying into the guards face as the trapdoor opened, barely missing the bullet that he fired. Jumping down he snatched the coat and started walking off.

"You scared me Kig, thought some killer got in and potato sacked me."

"That was the point, show ya I don't need help getting down and shut ya up before you asked." marching down the hall, he made sure his bloody arm was nowhere near the coat as he rounded a corner and threw it at Budster. "Happy birthday, father's day whatever the hell it is." Budster glanced at the thrown coat but then at Kig's arm.