Arc 3 - Interlude IV: Kirk The Shark-Human

(Solmonath 7, 45 / 9:00AM)

A month before the beast-human skirmishes…

In a land before discriminants roamed, the Southern country of Haxouburg was filled with diversity. Second to Aizzonia. Dog-humans, cat-humans, elves, bunny-humans, horse-humans, and shark-humans; all of these species called the country home.

Inside a small village just north of Ridgemente, was a community full of life. Curious kids, delinquent teens, hard-working adults, they dedicated time to each other, and not themselves.

But in the center of it all…

“Praise be my brothers and sisters! Praise this day for my sermon!”

On a stage in the center of the village, was a skinny and short statured man. He wore black slacks, a white dress shirt, and church shoes. His sleeves rolled up formally, his white socks were seen from his ankles. Last but not least, his nose was twice the size of a regular human, and his skin was grayish blue.

“The gospel has said to love thy neighbor! To cherish those different! If that were the case, then why are we seen as abnormal!?”

Many shark-humans gathered on the front stage. Nodding their heads, or furrowing their brows, it was a mix of emotions. For the children that continued to play, and for the teens that laughed and roamed, he only brought in those that knew hard work.

“Our regular-human brothers live in lavish homes, while we sleep in rundown shacks! When we visit their cities, we are met with bizarreness! When we shop in unbrotherly shops, we are asked to quietly leave! How are we different from those with no fur!?”

Many of them furrowed their brows, and some of them murmured and whispered with moving heads. Keeping in mind the correlation, and keeping in mind the poverty around them, some of them thought deeply.

“I think you’re overthinking it Pastor Kirk. I understand the cause you’ve given, but I must add…”

One of the adults raised his hand, and he moved it toward the top of his head. Lifting out his black cap, he lowered his hand to his thigh, and rested it while the limelight was on him. Feeling their stares, the man on the stage could only smile.

“We are happy with the way things are. Happy with the life we are living. Although we are poor, we find joy in the peace of our fellow brethren and community.”

“Not a bad argument brother, but what I’m suggesting isn’t for us to change. You see, I want those above to change how they see us!”

The shark-human could only rub his chin, as he had his other hand caress his grayish skin. With rough fingers, he rather let his thoughts scour themselves. As the crowd turned toward the pastor once more, he straightened his back, and quenched his breath.

“Did God create those to laugh at!? No! Did God create us as different?! If so, then why!? In this book, we are not used as an example, but as a test to those above us!”

Kirk looked up at the sun, and glanced at the clear blue sky that shimmered his face. For such a country that housed no clouds, rain and storms were rare upon itself. Letting out a soft exhale of air, he returned his eyes toward his audience once again.

“Don’t you get it my brothers and sisters!? They have to change their ways! Change the way they see us! We are the test that they are failing, so we must guide them!”

With dry lips, each word that came out flowed like desert sand. Spreading both of his arms out wide, extending the most he could, his body slightly trembled. On one hand, he had a bible. And in the other, he had it balled and tightened into a fist.

“And our holy carpenter asked us not to judge, but to accept! Not to hate, but to love! We are more than just shark-humans! More than just beast-humans! Get rid of the shark and the beast; you have human!”

His fingers dug deep into the cover, but it wasn’t enough to jab into the book. Having nails that were dull, they weren’t sharp enough to pierce through paper. Yet even so, he kept his back straightened, and his shoes glued to the cement.

The sun casted its light, with soft rays dancing on top of everyone’s heads.

“We are not meant to be strung by status! We are supposed to be judged by our sins; rather than our abnormalities! I am not speaking out for just ourselves, but for the other strings that are in the same sand as us!”

Even the children and teens stopped what they were doing.

Looking at the pastor who spoke with such vigor, they trapped the sight with their very eyes. One single man. One single shark-human. Standing in front of his own brethren, he took the helm of his status as a holy man.

“My brothers and sisters! Followers of Christ! With this bible, this book that tails Genesis to Revelation, we can form a world where our sons and daughters can walk free!”

________________________________________________________________________

Twelve hours later…

Two full double moons glowed in the sky. No kids playing, no adults working, only the mischief of teens roamed parts of the village. For such small shacks, it kept the cool air from escaping into the desert wind.

But in one of those shacks, a wooden door opened. Letting himself in, the cool air blasted into his face, while the glimmering candlelights glowed the walls. Walking through such a brittle floor, he at long last stepped toward a single woman.

She had a large nose and bluish skin, and she wore a simple cloth dress.

“Kirk dear, how many did you lecture this time?”

“Had half the village hearing me. It’s better than no one. If I spoke in the city, I would only pull a handful of citizens.”

He walked right behind her, and then wrapped his arms around her waist. With his right hand, he placed it onto her stomach, and began rubbing it. A warm smile lit her up, as she glanced down at the belly he cradled.

“Have you talked to the village doctor about your pregnancy?"

“They told me I passed the second trimester. It’ll only be three more months before they’re born…”

“They’re?”

“The doctor suspects we might have twins.”

Kirk moved his left hand, and pressed it onto her stomach like his right. Moving his chin toward her shoulder, he rested on it, and closed his eyes to allow the lemon scent to flutter his nostrils.

She looked down on the sandstone floor, and saw her bare feet stained in powdered white. Keeping her eyes there, she moved his hands onto his, and her lip quivered.

“Kirk… I think it’s time.”

Kirk furrowed his brow.

“You’ve been fighting the good fight long enough…”

Kirk lifted his head, and narrowed his face. Feeling his right lip twitch, feeling it quiver just a bit, he kept his calm composure steady. Trying to keep his smile from faltering, it was her quivering fingers that trembled his bones.

“Oh honey, Pike, you don’t have to worry—”

“Think about our kids dear. I don’t want them to live life without a father.”

“But men outside our village mean no harm. They have no reason to. They may look at us weirdly, but their hearts aren’t filled with hate.”

Pike remained silent, as she let her hands drop from her stomach. Keeping them on her sides, he continued to cradle her like she was precious.

“I made a vow in front of God Pike. I shall not break that. You know me.”

“You are not what worries me…”

She finally turned around.

Her eyes held soft tears, like a stream that wanted to pour into a creak. By just staring into her face, he gulped, and felt his whole body be shackled with sweat. Letting his hands drop as well, he didn’t rest them on his body just yet.

“It’s just… being out there, preaching your truth … it may lead to some disagreement. I don’t want—”

“I will live.”

Taking both of her hands, he kept his fingers locked into hers. The two of them locking eyes, the two of them seeing each other, their reflections gave way to their soul.

One forged out of earth, and the other out of fire. He wasn’t born to be a preacher, but he made it his mission.

“You think I became a preacher to just fight for myself? I’ll fight for you, my brothers and sisters, and future sons and daughters; and ours. That’s a vow I’ll keep, even if it’s not in front of God.”

________________________________________________________________________

(Solmonath 9, 45 / 10:00AM)

Throughout the old city, donkey-drawn carriages and old automobiles scoured the landscape. The sidewalks busied with pedestrians, and the perfume and cologne staunching the city, it gave the air a bit of wealth. Not because it was Ridgemente… but because it sat in an influential part of the city.

In the center of downtown,, was a building mesmerized in riches. And if a building houses rooms, then by all means, meetings would have to be held. Cases that needed hearing.

Sitting at a circular table, men in their 60s all stared at the speaker in front of them. Unlike the golden chains they had on their suits, the shark-human wore black slacks and a white dress shirt.

“Don’t you get it men? Do you understand the errors in our system?”

“You want to tear down that separate but equal clause? Didn’t you beast-humans already have your own facilities?”

“But gentlemen, there is a difference between being equal, and being separated.”

Kirk didn’t carry the bible like he usually would. Keeping his hands low to his waist, he didn’t have them balled. Tallying the group of politicians, they were six of them, but they all looked to be filled with wealth. From the way they composed themselves sitting, their backs fully rested on their seats.

“You may say that discrimination is rare in these parts, and from experience, I rarely go through such hate. But why do people like me live in villages outside of cities? Villages that wash unwell water? Soil that is infertile compared to other’s soil?”

Analyzing the way the men sat, some of them had clutched their hands over their bellies. Most of them being overweight, only one or two had their slacks and suits unwrinkled. As for Kirk himself, he was short and skinny, and he looked like a gust of wind might tackle him down.

“I’m not asking for money, or for a better life, but for us to share the same facilities and tools you all have. If all of you are part of the good faith, then you know—”

“Don’t get your hopes up son.”

One of the politicians spoke, his hair all clastined in white. Having a mullet, it stretched down to his upper back, while his circular glasses made him older than he looked.

Kirk laid his eyes on the old man, as he noticed his wrinkles sagging his cheeks. Keeping his posture steady, he kept his lips sealed.

“You’re a smart man right? You carry a bible, you preach your faith, and you know more about law than most.”

“Law?”

“You were once a lawyer.”

He adjusted his collar, while the hand he used twitched under his own sweat. Like he had pierced out a voice crack, more sweat fluttered down his neck, and around his chest. Even when he wore his usual clothing, he kept his attire as clean as possible.

“When you asked us to hear about your pitch, we looked up the role you partake in. Not your hobby, but any jobs that you acquired in your resume. And what do we find? A man so eloquent with law, so elegant to preserve justice, but turned it down for devout faith.”

The man raised his right foot onto his left knee, and kept it there. With his shoe close to the edge, he had his back slouched, while his eyes rested on the shark-human.

Kirk felt his posture irk him, like he was looking down on him with slouched eyes. Tightening his left hand, his right handed fingers began to scrunch the fabric of his pants.

“So why work in a field where you value yourself less? Nothing wrong with being a preacher, but your choices were that, or to preserve the law of the land. Even a mediocre lawyer can build wealth.”

“Does it look like I do it for money?”

His voice slightly lowered, and the six politicians knew of the frustration he had burrowed. The fat man, that same one who debated him, raised one of his hands up toward his chin. Scratching it with dull fingers, some of his prickly beard trickled his nails, making Kirk twitch his right eye.

“No offense to anyone I may offend, but I don’t bow down to riches. For the likes of all of you, I suppose you all have been living on silver platters for as long as you could. So if you want to say that I was wrong, wrong to abandon a path full of sin… then—”

“I wasn’t born this way pastor.”

He slowly rose from his seat.

Placing both of his hands onto his sides, he had his eyes meet with Kirk. For such an old man, he didn’t avert eye contact, while his straightened composure made Kirk take a step back.

“As a matter of fact, I was raised with the same wooden spoons that you used during childhood. I studied words, wrote with elegance, so much so I worked myself up the judicial ladder. That’s the difference between me and you…”

With his right hand, he pushed it into his pocket, and brought out two things. One was waxed with wood, while the other was laced in metal. Having the two be sulked in his sausage palms, he raised the wooden stick toward his lips.

Bitting on it, he flicked the lighter to life, and moved the flame toward the cigar. Closing the lid with one swiping gesture, he pushed it into his pocket. All the while the smoke from his cigar circled around him.

“Maybe if you stuck to being a lawyer, you’d probably help more of your brethren then you’re already doing.”

Kirk’s eyes darkened.

Seeing the way the man smoked, the way he moved the air, it worsened his balled hand. Feeling his fingers growing pale, feeling it cripple in static, all he could do was stare.

Because the burning of wood irritated his sensitive nose.

“I’ll take my words elsewhere…”

He walked toward the door, his eyes avoiding their stares. Squeezing his church shoes against the wood, it was replaced with marble, as he walked through the hallway.

‘I’ve heard that line many times… yet they still don’t understand! Why don’t they understand!?’

Slanting his eyes inward, he couldn’t look at anyone. Not the secretaries, not the politicians with rigid clothing, only the floor. Until his eyes noticed two thick steel doors.

Bursting them open, he let himself out into the winter sun. Imaginary steam rising from his body, he grinded his teeth repeatedly.

‘What must I do to gain their trust!? To hear my words!? What unforsaken deed shall I do!?’

________________________________________________________________________

An hour later…

Having his left hand in his pocket, his right still carried the bible that was wrinkled all over. Hearing the motor of automobiles, as well as donkey hooves, his face was still flattened and dead. Ignoring the men and women who walked, most of them didn’t mind him, while some of them kept their distance.

‘When will this, “not now” or “wait until the time is right” end? Only the moderates could back me up, but they always suggest waiting…’

Glancing to his right, he stopped walking, and stared at a building that was one story high. Imagining the smell already, he put up a somewhat friendly face, before walking toward it.

‘I suppose I shall cool off with sugar.’

Opening the oak door, his body dampened from the humid air that assaulted him. From the isles and shelves, stacks of wrapped candy filled his irises. Lollipops, chocolate bars, tootsie rolls; candy he never saw were within those shelves.

Once he reached the back, he laid his eyes only on those tootsie rolls.

One by one, he plucked those wrappings onto his hands. Having them in literal handfuls, one or two droplets of sweat swept from his temples. Clearing his throat, he began his walk toward the register.

‘Odd… this shop is usually busy around this time of day.’

Reaching the cashier, he plopped down the tootsie rolls straight on the counter. Behind it, was a young man with long wavy hair, with circular glasses spiraled in shades. As he began pulling out his wallet, his own thoughts had to be answered.

“Business slow today?”

“Mostly. There was a lack of customers today.”

“Might there be a new candy shop? An event that pulled the customers away?”

“No clue.”

Bringing out two quarters, he handed the currency toward the young man. Taking those two coins, he dropped them in his pocket, rather than the register. Giving the shark-human a nod, he put the tootsie rolls in a small plastic bag.

“Here ya go.”

Handing it to Kirk, he carried it with one hand, while his other flattened the bottom. Just as he was about to walk out…

He laid eyes on a girl.

Wearing brown overalls, her hair stretched down her lower back. Her skin having a white complexion, she wore simple shoes, while her eyes glowed blue. Looking up at the top shelf, lollipops reflected her soul. Pushing the bag into his pocket, he walked toward the little girl.

“Hey there young one. Do you need any assistance?”

The girl nodded, as she pointed at the top shelf. Looking like she was calm around him, he walked toward a nearby moving ladder, which was a single shelf away.

Rolling the ladder to where the lollipop was, he began his descent up. His sweaty hands barely cusping the handles, and his shoes grinding against the steps, he finally reached the maximum height.

‘Why do they put lollipops on such high shelves!? Shouldn’t they be at the bottom!?’

Because of his below-average height, it was harder to grab that single candy, but it didn’t mean it was impossible. Having his fingers cusp around the white stick, he groaned, as his feet barely managed to keep him balanced.

Yet at long last, he got the lollipop.

“Alone at—”

He heard a snap.

Feeling his body be tilted downward, he instinctively spread out both of his arms and legs. Closing his eyes, he crashed against the wooden floor, but his chin wasn’t bruised. Feeling his knees and palms swell in purple, he hissed air through his lips…

“H-Huh?”

Opening his eyes, his vision began to clear, and his nerves initiated another warmth. Right below him…

‘No no no, oh no…’

—Was that girl he was helping out.—

Because of the loud thump he heard, the cashier ran toward the commotion. Once he was within the isleway, he saw Kirk, being on all fours on top of a six year old girl. Pushing himself away, he raised his hands as his face paled the greatest of ghostly whites.

“I-It’s not what it looks like! By my soul, the ladder—”

“You monster! What were you planning to do!?”

“No, no, no! You got it all wrong! Didn’t you hear the—”

—The door to the candy shop opened.—

Two boys entered, their teen years showing on their faces. Both of them had turquoise colored hair, and one had lighter hair than the other. But nonetheless, they stared directly at the cashier, and the shark-huamn…

And the little girl who began to tear.

“What happened here?”

The dark-turquoise, colored-haired boy slanted his eyes, and immediately pushed them onto the cashier. Seeing that he pointed his finger, he directed it at the shark-human, who quickly got up from the floor.

Then they heard her cries.

Kirk widened his eyes, as his throat jumped every syllable he wanted to get out of. But he couldn’t push them out. For the first time, words were meaningless.

“What did you do to our sister?”

“I-It’s not what it looks like I swear!”

That same boy stomped toward the shark-human, who slouched his head low from false regret. Seeing his eyes burdened in crimson red, seeing the veins that scattered around his scleras, rage began to fill him.

Along with the light-colored hair one, he balled both of his hands, while the girl’s cries worsened.

“You touched her…”

“He did what!?”

“I’m telling you! I saw that man on all fours! He was—”

“I didn’t haste to no—”

“Bullshit!”

Once the teen reached him, he immediately grabbed his collar. Pulling him close, he was inches from his face, as Kirk’s hands were slumped to his sides. Unwilling to surrender, nor fight his way out, he croaked his vocals repeatedly.

“You’re one sick son of a bitch!”

“I was trying to get candy, I was—”

Glancing to his right, he moved his hand, and scoured only empty wood. Moving his other hand, he felt… wait … no…

Like it had disappeared, he looked around the wooden floor, but there was no lollipop. By the time he noticed his evidence was gone, his breathing fastened. His heart beating against his chest, sweat trickled under the pressure.

“The lollipop… the candy… where’s the candy?”

“I’ve heard enough.”

Kirk laid his eyes directly at the teen, whose voice reached a tone lower than molasses. For a split second, he glanced at the other teen, who took out a metal bat laced in spikes. His hands succumbing to static, and his fingers unwilling to twitch, he could only gulp dry saliva.

“What you’re going to pay, won’t be satisfied by mere money.”

He felt his world tilt upside down.

Laying down on the wooden floor, his knuckles rubbed against it while his eyes flickered blur. Sensing a warm sensation coming from his nose, the pain finally gnawed, but it was too late…

Closing his eyes, he felt his body shuffle against the ground.

With only his ears taking in the dark corridors, the unfamiliar sounds oozed his ears. By the time he was swept into unconscious; he heard that same molasses thick voice.

“Take him to the butcher.”

________________________________________________________________________

Nine hours later…

Frost and ice stuck to the walls, with metal hooks dangling from the ceiling. Some of the hooks free from blood, others carried carcasses fresh of pork and steak. But one hook wasn’t like the others, as the tip of it carried handcuffs.

The metal digging into his wrists, the swelling turned infectious. Having his arms extended out, and having his shins dig into the floor, frostbite turned his toes black. He wore nothing, with the exception of his boxers. Slashes, cuts, bruises, they all swelled his body in black, blue, and purple.

“That should do it.”

In front of him, one teen carried a crowbar, while the other a baseball. For the one that had dark-turquoise hair, he still had his fingers digging into his bat.

“That beating should give us some justice.”

“So we’re just going to dump him to the police? I thought we’d do more than this?”

“Once he is taken and found guilty, the prisoners would do worse things than we already did. He should be grateful he’s getting—”

The two heard a knock.

Both teens looked toward the metallic door, and they lowered their crowbar and bat. One of them walked toward the door, and they heard another knock, and another. Reaching the handle, the teen gripped the frost that bit his palm.

‘Hope it’s not Gray. Don’t want to ruin his eyes…’

He opened the door, but what he saw made him take a step back.

Standing directly in front of him, was that same cashier that worked at the candy shop. Long wavy hair, that mid 20s look, the teen glanced behind, as if to determine what their next move might be.

But the cashier raised his hand to his hair.

“Relax. I’m not here to harm you guys.”

The two of them noticed his change of clothes. Instead of an apron, he wore white robes that priests wore. His sandals showcasing his toes, his hands ridden with youth, what he took off…

It was his wig, which showed his natural light-green hair.

“Just had to play the part.”

“W-Who are you? If you’re not actually some cashier then—”

“Woah woah, settle down. Like I said, I ain’t here to harm.”

The man raised both of his hands.

Taking a step into the frozen air, it tickled his skin along with his hair. Trembling violently, he hissed air through his lips, and dropped both of his hands to his sides. Tucking them into his sleeves, he shivered as the air wrinkled his eyes.

“You’ve been working under this cold? Frostbite can happen in these temperatures.”

“Tell us who you are!?”

“Alright alright. Jeez. No need to be hasty.”

Giving them a slight bow, he tilted his head down. Having his light green hair trickle his forehead, along with his eyelids, there was not a speck of facial hair on him.

“The name’s Lazaros. Lazaros Roosevelt. Happy? Even if you aren’t, could you guys dump your names as well?”

Both teens scratched their cheeks, and scraped off dry skin that accumulated from within. One of them pushed his hands in his pockets, while the other folded his arms beneath his chest. The timid yet sly one had light-turquoise hair, while the cocky one had a darker color.

“The name’s Gerd.” Said the cocky one.

“And my name is Gus.” Said the sly one.

Lifting his head, Lazaros gave them a nod, before settling his eyes onto the shark-human.

Keeping them there, he took note of the handcuffs that drew out blood from his wrists. As if a metallic blade had dug deep into his skin, the poor man groaned in pain. But it was silent, a mere whisper that held no course of action.

“We stated our names. So what do you want?”

“It’s nothing much. I’m just here to give you guys some options.”

“Options?”

“Is sending him to the police the best choice possible?”

Gerd and Gus looked at the exhausted shark-human, as his body swelled in the freezing air. In some equilibrium, his body warmed him up, his skin a battleground between warmth and cold.

While Gerd glared at him, his eyes plastered in veins in red.

“Well… that bastard touched my sister. It was a reasonable response, considering we were going easy on him.”

“So that’s your endgame? Beating this man up until you had your fun?”

“Not fun. Justice. We are exacting judgement.”

Lazaros began walking toward the shark-human. Each step, each chunk of frost he crushed, it sizzled and crackled his ears.

Once he stood right in front of him, the shark-human couldn’t give him the look of day. Narrowing his eyes, Lazaros quivered his throat, as all the nerves in his body froze in calmness.

—“You know, I have a daughter the same age as your sister.”—

Grabbing the top of Kirk’s hair, his fingers dug deep, but not so that blood won’t spill. Having no trembling bones, having no cold or frost in his nails, it was like the cold hadn’t bothered him any more.

“I don’t call myself a saint, but even the most vindictive of men wouldn’t lust for children.”

Letting go of Kirk’s head, he let his head drop to his chin. Another groan, one filled with so much croaked pain, the shark-human could only wish for the pain to stop.

“So I’ll ask the two of you. Do you wish to judge him yourselves, or would you rather let the courts handle it?”

Gerd and Gus glanced over at Kirk, their eyes still beaming with controlled rage. Gerd balled both of his hands, his nails digging deep into his palms.

“I’m not some high and mighty judge. But if there’s a slim chance he’ll get a light sentence, that’s no world that’ll satisfy me.”

Letting go of his balled hands, he lifted his head. Pushing his eyes on Lazaros at last, he ignored the metallic object he had in his hand.

“So what do you propose we should do with him?”

“I was hoping you said that.”

Mist poured out from the vents.

Like a man trying to crawl on glass shards, it was a slow process that shouldn’t harbor any pain. Step by step, hand by hand, each slow movement meant the pain wouldn’t scar his soul.

“If you want to exact absolute justice, one must play the role of executioner.”

“What is going…”

The fog reached their ankles, and it crawled up to their faces. Like imaginary spiders, it crawled into their mouths, and down their throats. Their lungs swelled in the cold vapor, depriving them of oxygen.

Coughing intensely, the two of them got down on all fours. As for Kirk, his breath was already shallow, meaning the mist didn’t have any effect. While the two teens coughed and choked in the mist, their knees slammed the ground.

“Don’t worry, the first time always hurts. After that, it’s pretty much smooth sailing from here.”

Their fingers scrunched up the frost, and their palms were glued to the floor. Veins scattering their scleras, drool mesmerized from the corners of their lips. Trying so hard to concentrate… their breathing softened.

“Hold on…”

Their coughing began to cease, and their eyes had no strain. Letting go of the frost-covered floor, they stood up tall, and adjusted their shoulders like they underwent a long exercise. Their hearts were slow, and their lungs drew air cautiously.

Until they smiled with glimmering lips. Swiping drool from their chins, their fingers relaxed under the gas they inhaled.

“I feel great.”

“Same here.”

“Glad to hear that. And as for what you wanna do with him… that’s all up to you two.”

Waving at them with a smile, he walked toward the door, and opened it wide. Closing it without looking back, it left the two teens to stare back at the shark-human. Despite the gas scouring around the frost, Kirk couldn’t look up at those devilish grins.

“Want me to bring more tools?”

“Yeah. Bring the whole catalog.”

Walking toward the same door that Lazaros exited out of, chunks of frost escaped from his soles. Kirk couldn’t feel anything, nor could he witness that dark aura near him. He kept his eyes shrouded in so much darkness…

“Get ready sharky, because we ain’t going to take you to the law any more.”

His life flashed before him.

Taking his first steps. Taking his first reading lesson. School. Learning numbers. Math. English. Learning how to talk. Learning how to stand up straight. Excel. Excel even more. Graduate. Study. Find love. Study harder. Married. Turned… he turned to preaching.

While on the verge of parenthood.

‘Oh Pike…’

He heard a wheel barrel, along with the jumping of metal objects. He didn’t want to look at them, nor did he dare to paste his face white.

Even though he lived an endearing life, what was about to happen… would rival a punishment that suited the evilest of sinners.

‘I have failed…’

________________________________________________________________________

(Solmonath 10, 45 / 8:02AM)

The sun rose from the east, giving the village its usual sunlight. The wood sparkling under the rays, many doors swayed open upon unison. But they didn’t push for normalcy…

As they turned toward the stage.

Many adults walked forward as one. Holding their breath, their eyes thought they were playing tricks, until they widened them with horror. The thing, that sculpture, it cast a shadow that no one could stand under.

“Sweet mother of God… what is that?”

Many of the teens raised eyebrows, and the kids walked along with them. So much curiosity, so much to view, many of them were blocked. Adults shooing them away, blocking their eyes, they didn’t wish for their eyes to corrupt them.

But unfortunately, some kids gazed at that hideous display.

“Who would do such a thing…”

—Nailed on a cross; was a shark-human.—

Blood poured across his body, leaving his grayish blue skin to turn red. His hands nailed to the wood, so was his feet, as they were jabbed together rather than separate. Frostbite wounds stuck to his skin, and there was no life within those—

He had no eyes.

Carved out from his sockets, it made his head look hollow. In fact, his mouth looked stuffed. Poking out from his lips, were two slimy balls that many of them noticed…

One shark-human gurgled, as the contents from breakfast drew out from disgust. He didn’t care about the leather of his boots, while swiping his lips with his hand.

‘What kind of sick joke is this… this goes beyond just hate…’

Many women hurried away into their homes. Many of the men lowered their hats, and scrunched their cheeks that were brittle in stress.

One of those shark-humans, the debater from a few days prior, threw down his cap and stormed off. What he saw unable to match with normalcy, he reached all the way toward his shack, and opened the door in bursting anger. Reaching a small wooden chest, he opened it…

And took out a revolver. Spinning the little wheel, he pushed it into his pocket. Keeping it hidden, he heard footsteps from in back of him.

“What are you doing Don?”

“You saw that stage, and you saw what I got out. Figure it out.”

“Hey hold on. We don’t know who did it in the first place.”

“But we know whoever did this was in the city.”

Straightening his back, he laid his eyes on that statue of a man. Blood oozing from his hands, it spread like some plague. They didn’t want to know the pain he was in, nor did they ever want to imagine.

“So are you going to accompany me or not?”

—Another door opened.—

Bursting out, her hand was pressed on her belly, and her breath was out of rhythm. Pushing in and out, tears already formed in her eyes.

Out from the shack, two women tried to catch up to her. Extending out their hands, they yelled through exasperated vocals.

“W-Wait Pike!”

“I-It’s for your own good don’t!”

Many adults turned around, and noticed the running woman. Some men ran toward her, their eyes barely able to hold in the frustration they had in store.

“Hey hey, Pike. Don’t look.”

“Is that Kirk!? What is he doing!?”

“T-That’s not Pike… that’s not—”

She broke free from their grasp.

Sprinting with full force, she almost forgot she was pregnant. Trying to catch her, to grasp onto her arms or shoulders, her speed unmatched them. Narrowing her eyes forward, it wasn’t until she widened them, which put an end to her spring.

Her knees slamming on the ground, her eyes quivered relentlessly. Unwilling to lay her hands on her stomach, her knuckles caressed the ground, as her wailing began.

Everyone lowered their heads, with some of them darkening their eyes. Some of them balled their hands, and a majority of them knew that that statue wasn’t born out of hate. No. It was evil.

“I’ll walk right with you Don.”

As several shark-humans began to ensemble, their hearts boiled in that hidden fiery spirit. So much vengeance, so much justice, they couldn’t allow such a man to fulfill that fate.

—Which costed the world two years of war.—