My father used to tell us that the fishtank wasn't a cage– it was a window. A place to observe the outside world, and for us to gaze in.
I have always been outside the glass.
From the outside, the sun's glare pierces the water; and beneath that glare hides the shark. Like a true apex predator the shark tends to target those that are smaller than themselves; much like humans drawn to the smell of blood.
"Max–run!"
But she didn't move. She stood, untethered, her large clouded eyes reflecting the horrors just beyond her; while her body remained completely still.
A world of fish and sharks, what else could there possibly be to see?
FEBRUARY
The ash was thick and harsh; as always when inside a distortion. Two bodies laid still within the landfill, not too far from the beast. It inhaled long and ridged, breathing in the mountains of trash. Max sighed, a mix of boredom and disappointment, it was only her second month in– forty-one days, forty nights. They were decent people, now cold corpses, prey of natural phenomena that eats away at this world– itself…
"May your souls find eternal peace," Max raised her arm pointed towards the monster, palm open, thumb folding in front.
But before her actions could make a conclusion, a sound like thunder– a bullet roared before striking the monster in its shoulder, barely leaving a mark.
A man full of snark and wilted boy crawled out of the trash, the man hand wrapped around a rusted handgun that was probably older than the boy.
"Poor bastards…" he stepped in closer, noticing the lost and glancing towards Max.
"This has gotta be around neg-3 right?"
She gave him an absent look back without reply.
"Dont worry, you're safe now.' He gave her a soft smile "Baby, stick by her."
The boy obeyed, stepping close to max.
"Im sorry we didn't come sooner," Baby said quietly. "He looks like an idiot, but Ace knows how to fight."
Ace. suddenly dashed forward, his long strides skidding through the waste beneath.
The monster reacted faster. Its anvil-like fist crashed into Ace's side, sending him flying into a pit of trash.
Ace jolted back to his feet, awkwardly brushing the filth from his tracksuit.
"Ew… gross," he muttered. "You ashkin are all the same."
His gaze dropped to the ground beside him, noticing the enchanting shine of black bin bag. His grin widened.
Before Ace could move, the ashkin lunged again.
With the creature a breath away, Ace swung his arm; hurling the bag forward. The plastic across its face, halting it – not through pain, instead confusion.
Before it could recover, Ace was already there. He crouched, one fist cuffed over the other.
"My divine– Highest Value Play," he said. "Means I can kill guys like you with one blow."
In an instant, the distortion collapsed.
The landfill returned to what it should have been.
Finally, some talent.
But the kid…
"... You good miss?" Baby asked.
Max didn't reply, she hadn't moved at all since they had arrived.
Ace walked over, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a yawn.
"Guess I was wrong. Musta been neg-2."
His eyes lingered on her longer than he meant to. It is said that fear drained the colour from your face– but Max's skin still held its quiet hazel sheen.
She glanced once more at the bodies, then tilted her head up toward the sky. Grey– though it looked awfully blue.
"... Your friends?" Ace asked.
Max shook her head.
"I didn't know them long."
***
"You sure you don't want food?" Ace nudged his plate toward her. "Pop's cooking is the best."
Max looked down. The smell made her mouth water– but the place itself killed her appetite. Rusted tables. Wood darkened and infused by years of grease and spilled meals.
They sat in a cramped food spot buried deep in Grey district– the labour underbelly of Bolia. Factories, landfills, markets that only opened at night, Places built to be used and forgotten.
"She might just not be hungry," Baby said, pulling a candy bar from his jacket. "Your blood sugar might be low."
Max accepted it, unwrapping the bar, taking soft bite after soft bite. Like a rabbit.
"You from around here?" Baby asked.
"Im here for work,"
Ace scratched the thin patch of hair on his chin that was supposed to form a goatee.
"In the landfill? I thought they just left that place to rot." He took another bite. "Just thinking about it makes me sick."
Baby sighed, handing Ace a napkin.
"Where are you from? Got a place to stay." Baby asked.
"No. A small island off the central isles."
"You got money?"
She took her last bite and spun her neck back and forth looking for a Bin.
"No"
Baby gently took the emptied wrapper from her.
"You're probably sick of trash," He smiled.
He walked over to the overflowing trashbin not too far from the kitchen. Ace exhaled; long and rewarding, before looking up at Max.
"Hes a good kid, too good…" he said. "Making me look like both a good and bad big brother."
Brothers?
Their souls are different.
"Thank you for your help today," She stood up from the table. "I should get going now."
She brushed away from the torn leather seating and headed towards the door, but was intercepted by Baby; his face was young, likely why he was given the name 'Baby' but his eyes were aged.
"Not to be weird," he gave a faint smile but avoided eye contact. "The lady below us normally has a spare room. I just thought you might need a place to stay."
His appearance gave off the image of delinquent, baggy clothes that were probably hand-me-downs. Everything he said came out soft as snow, his hair unnaturally golden– it would have shined if the sun was visible.
"Shes sweet, pretty much raised me and Ace. Plus she enjoys company." he said.
"Ok." Max replied.
Max followed him out of the food place into the streets of the district– living to its name everything was grey, sky, people, buildings. It operated just like every city but there was something strange. The sound of car horns, shouting, noise pollution. But despite these being traits natural to any metropolis, Max couldn't help but notice–
"Hey!" Ace ran after them, waving an arm.
"Already leaving me for a woman off the street." He clicked his tongue. " They grow up too fast."
The three of them walked through the run down streets, not too different from the landfill they were barely an hour ago. Every corner laid trash, and on top of the trash laid people.
She couldn't help but notice how wrong it felt; how different it was from the places she had been before. The same frame, different ink. Cheaper, faster.
"Nexophenate…" Ace said looking towards a man sprawled out across the road's crossing. "Its said to reduce ash by making you feel better."
But it's not working.
Baby grit his teeth and turned his head the opposite direction.
"Numbing doesn't stop the pain."
I can't say I blame them for turning to drugs.
White tiles. The smell of antiseptic, a sleeve too long for her arm.
Ash might as well be a disease, a sickness.