The holes in his tattered shoes seemed to suck in the rainwater from the various puddles lining his sidewalk, but his young feet were already prunes, so the extra moisture did nothing but keep them cold. It didn’t bother the urchin, though. His eyes were scouring the empty concrete, looking for the subtle glint of abandoned metal.

He picked up a stray penny and put it in his pocket, thinking that it might lead to some luck in today’s hunt. A few more coins and he could probably buy some dinner, but neither of those things was on his mind right now. His stomach protested loudly against being ignored like that.

A tiny, dark object lay flat against the ground up ahead and a brilliant thrill pumped in his chest! He stepped towards it slowly and quietly, as if the object would sense its imminent capture and try to flee. As he got closer, the thing gained definition – and it was without comparison the most strange and beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The boy knelt down with no small amount of reverence, ignoring the trivial scraping his knees received from the rough, wet concrete, and reached for the strange key. The other keys on his keyring jangled and chattered excitedly with the movement, eager to welcome this new member to the already-large family.  The key on the ground was brighter than his others and unique in that it appeared to be crude and refined at the same time. There was a definite craftsmanship to it, but it had not been shaped down to clean geometric shapes like normal keys. It looked more like someone had taken a key-shaped blob of gold and had squeezed some more definition into the teeth.

He turned the key over in his hands a few times, inspecting it. It looked a lot like a tiny gold man who had stood up straight with his feet together, then spread his feet apart in a V shape, keeping his heels together, and then finally bent over slightly to look down at the shape. It was bizarre and he couldn’t quite imagine the lock that was now missing her mate.

The boy stood up and unclipped his keyring from his belt and opened it up, at which point he noticed that his new discovery didn’t seem to have any hole or hook for attaching the key. He puzzled over it for only a moment, oblivious to the quiet growling of a car that was growing in volume as it sped down the road.

================================================================

The young man slammed his fist down on the countertop, rattling the glass display beneath it.

“TEN bucks?!!” he cried out in angry disbelief at the tubby gentleman standing behind the counter. The pawn shop owner glanced back casually. This type of thing happened all the time – why did everyone think their junk was so valuable? Ten bucks was actually more than he had initially planned on offering, but there was some value in its uniqueness. He stayed quiet and let the young man throw his arms around and rant.

The young man wasn’t bad looking by any means, and the owner figured that if the young man would put on this kind of performance in any other venue, he’d probably earn more than ten bucks and wouldn’t have to part with his “family heirloom.” Everything was a family heirloom when price tags became involved. The thing probably didn’t even belong to this guy.

After a minute, the young man started to lose some steam and he looked at the door. This honestly wasn’t worth his time and he could care less about that piece of crap. Ten bucks was better than nothing, and it was ten bucks for getting rid of something that just took up space. He had no idea why his grandfather would leave him some girly ornament in his will in the first place. Ten bucks was more useful than zero bucks…. He could do ten bucks…

He grunted in a show of blatant dissatisfaction and said with loud resignation, “Fine. Take it. I’m coming back for it anyway.” Yeah right.

The pawn shop owner handed over a ten dollar bill, and the young man took it and headed for the door, throwing a sarcastic “Thanks” over his shoulder. The door slammed behind him, a door chime jingling merrily in response. The door chime was frequently the happiest thing in the store.

Once the young man was gone, the pawn shop owner looked down at the object sitting on the countertop. It was certainly beautiful but he had no idea what the hell it was. He looked back at the closed door. Punk kid.

Outside, the young man stormed through the rain to his pride and joy, his gently-used sports car that he had spent a summer rebuilding from spare parts and junkyard discoveries. He slammed the car door. Ten bucks… What a tightwad old man.

He started the engine and sped down the road. As he turned the corner, he spotted a boy standing still on a sidewalk, looking down at something, but it wasn’t at the large pool of water that was resting next to the sidewalk. A malicious smile crept over his face – it was like fate was giving him a way to let off some steam. His teeth practically beamed through his rain-splashed windshield and the engine pitch rose as he pushed the accelerator to the floor and aimed for the edge of the puddle.

================================================================ 

The sudden crushing roar of gallons of water being thrown into the air broke the small boy’s frustrated concentration and time began to slow down as he looked up just as the wave hit him.  His body slammed back against the nearby wall, and the shock of it and being suddenly blinded left him with limited senses. He felt the open keyring slip out of his grasp and heard hundreds of tiny clinks of loose keys falling to the floor. He sputtered and spat the dirty street water and tried to rub his eyes with one hand as he fell to his knees to recollect his treasures with his other hand.

His hand grasped desperately around at the ground, shredding his fingertips against the tiny spikes in the concrete.  Water flowed past his fingers, rushing into the tiny slats of an unnoticed sewer grate and carrying his keys with it. One of his eyes cleared up just in time for him to see the tip of the last key drop through, and he screamed in horror, diving for it in vain.

He lay face down into the grate, staring into the pitch black air below that had just robbed him of his one and only passion. A mix of tears and rain dripped off of him in the dead silence while his lungs struggled to give him enough air to vomit out some pained noise, but nothing came. The air simply left his lungs in silence and he noisily gasped for breath in-between his silent wails. The darkness simply stared back up at him, heartlessly ignoring his pleas.

Instinct took over and his body began to curl up into a fetal position, but his knee struck something. His eyes stayed fixed on the blackness – the only thing that remained of his treasure. Looking away felt like it would be giving up, so he reached a weak, floating hand down to the object to feel its shape. Energy sprang back into him as he sat up and looked down at the object. The strange golden key was caught halfway into one of the grate’s slots. The blobby shape of its body made the key too wide to fall in all the way, so it simply swung loosely.

With great trepidation, the boy reached for it and gingerly grasped the exposed head and worked it back upwards through the grate. Once it was safely in his hands, he squeezed it and pushed himself away from the grate, standing up.

The boy stared down at the grate once more, clutched the key to his chest and ran down the sidewalk. He got to the corner and followed it around. For the first time, he wasn’t looking down at the ground for anything;  the thought of hunting for lost keys was a depressing reminder of what he had just lost, so he kept his eyes up and noticed he was close to the pawn shop that he sometimes like to browse. He could never afford anything there but the prices were just barely out of his reach, so he liked to dream about the things he would buy if he found a five dollar bill. Right now, it was also a dry place, so he made his way to the front door and pulled it open.

================================================================ 

The pawn shop owner looked up at the sound of the happy door chime and stared quizzically at the young boy that stood in the doorway. He knew it was raining outside, but the boy was soaked through in a way that was beyond some average rain. The owner’s brow furrowed in a mix of curiosity and pity. The boy was clearly one of the street kids. He wasn’t sure whether to be sad for the kid or worried about him shoplifting.

The boy’s eyes painted the store slowly, marveling at everything he wished he could have – a new-looking pair of boots without any holes in them, some coats and t-shirts that still felt soft to the touch… He brushed the clothing lightly with his knuckles to avoid staining them with any blood from his scraped fingertips.

Respect filled the eyes of the pawn shop owner as he watched this happen and he lost any concern about being robbed. This was a child who had a proper idea of what was his and what was not his, and judging by what the child looked like, the boy probably knew more of the latter. He glanced down at the calendar on his countertop. It was December 23rd and he chewed on his tongue while he mulled over an idea.

“Hey kid,” he said gruffly.

The boy took a quick step back from the rack of decorative belt buckles he had been admiring and looked over at the owner with a worried look on his face, as if he had been caught stealing.

“Come here,” the man said, and the boy complied with tentative, squishy footsteps.

The man looked down at the kid, who was clutching something metallic to his chest. “Say, what do you have there?” he asked.

The boy clutched the item tighter and simply said, “It’s mine – I came in with it!” He sounded truly worried as if he was about to be robbed, so the man put his hands up in a calming, defensive pose. The boy lowered his voice and said, “It’s all I got.”

“Okay, okay – I believe you,” the owner replied and he remembered what he was going to do. He looked at the ornament in front of him, remembering the young man’s promise to come back for it. It was probably just a bargaining tactic, but just in case it wasn’t, that punk kid couldn’t get it back if it wasn’t here… The sheer fact that this penniless urchin wouldn’t consider pawning whatever piece of junk he was clutching for a little bit of money – that spoke volumes.

He picked up the ornament and he showed it to the kid, whose eyes lit up in wonder. He asked, “Do you like this?”

The boy nodded vigorously but flicked his eyes up briefly to meet the owner’s, gauging his intentions.

“It’s almost Christmas. I think you should take this. It’s free but only this time,” the owner said matter-of-factly. He was trying to avoid having the kid coming back every day with some expectation of free gifts.

The boy paused, unsure about this. What was the catch? Things weren’t free, and the only lesson he had ever learned from an adult was that you never take anything for free. If you take something, you give something.

To the owner’s amazement and bewilderment, the boy shook his head.

“What? Why not? Is there something wrong with it?” he asked – pulling the ornament back to inspect it. It had a small jagged hole in it like someone had dropped it without breaking it, but still, free was free.

The boy said, “No…” he started. He really wanted that thing – it looked really nice, but all he had now to trade was a single key, and it was the find of the century. At the same time, it seemed to burn a hole in his palm, reminding him of all the other keys that he had lost. Still, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to give up the last remaining piece of his once glorious collection.  

He breathed deeply and continued, “… but I’ll trade you for it.” He reached out his hand, holding out the golden key.

The owner’s eyes widened at the sight of the golden key resting on the boy’s open palm and he replaced it with the ornament. Both of them pulled their acquisitions back in close where they could examine them with interest. The boy fawned over the ornament, turning it this way and that while the owner ran his fingers over the edges and curves of the key, testing its weight. This was solid gold and easily worth thousands of dollars…

“Boy…” he began slowly. He met the boy’s eyes, “… where did you get this?”

The boy looked uncertain again and said, “I just found it.”

The owner’s eyes dropped back to the key and its unique V-shaped end. “Boy, “ he started again. “Can I see that thing again?”

The boy looked hesitant, so the owner added, “I’ll give it back.”

Slowly, the ornament was presented back up to the owner who took it and turned it over to find the crack. He paused, and then, feeling slightly foolish, tried to put the key into the opening.

There was a slight click and the top half of the ornament popped up slightly on a hinge. The boy strained to see what was happening above the counter, but the man was completely and utterly captivated in what he was seeing. The solid gold key clattered to the top of the counter, forgotten, but the noise shook the man out of his state.

He looked down at the boy and with both hands, carefully gave the boy the now-open ornament, saying, “I guess… uhh… this is yours….” He trailed off. Inside was a large, shiny clear stone. It was very pretty, the boy thought. It seemed like it was probably a good trade.

The owner stepped out from behind the counter and knelt on the ground next to the boy, his eyes glancing at the stone. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, who flinched a bit but stayed still.

“What’s your name, boy?”

The boy shrugged as best he could with the heavy hand on his shoulder. “Boy?” the kid suggested.

The man paused, shocked, and took his hand off. “You don’t know your own name?” he asked, a touch of sadness in his voice.

The boy shrugged again. Names seemed pointless when nobody talked to you.

The owner shook his head in disbelief and said, “Son… man, I don’t know where to start. Uhhh… Can I ask you one more question?" He tried to think of how to phrase the next question, hey kid - how would you like to have everything in this store and more?

The owner kept shaking his head and thought to himself, this kid had no idea how much his life was about to change. He was going to need a name first...

The boy thought to himself, this guy sure asks a lot of questions.

With each crunching footstep, I felt tiny shards of old, brittle bone cut into the skin of my feet, leaving smears of my blood on the blackened surfaces of various skulls and shoulder blades. It was virtually painless compared to the intense heat that was slowly blistering my skin as it had done hundreds of times before. Each step also brought another level of pressure from the hand that was gripping my wrist. I knew he wanted to say something, but the experience took away all of his capacity to do so. It wouldn't have done him any good anyway.

The man simply trembled and watched the last of his tortured cloak tear away in a fiery blaze. The unnatural sense of shame kicked in and he suddenly tried to cover his nakedness, but it was hard to do with one hand still grasping my wrist as to keep the connection. He would get over it, so I began to move forward again, towards the source of the heat.

The cavern was huge - at least a hundred feet of space in every direction. It was hard to tell exactly, because the ever-growing walls had simply faded into the darkness hundreds of feet ago. Regardless of the actual size, the pressure of the hot air made it feel as though we were squeezing through a crawlspace. At times, it felt like there was no possible way to go any further, but I knew better. The road had been told to me, and I knew the exact steps just as well now as I did on my first journey.

It was also completely silent - something that never failed to unnerve me. It was something about the air, or maybe the lack of it. Science wasn't something one normally cared about in this environment. The only "scientific" thing I noticed was that the oxygen simply began to burn at a certain proximity to the heat source, which was usually the farthest I was allowed to go. Each journey, I was given the temporary gift (if that's what you would call it) of some protection against the elements of this place, but it didn't make me fireproof. I tried to hum a song in my head, but it was hard to focus.

We made it another ten feet, about to round the final corner and I looked over at him. He had gotten over his shame and looked like he was crying, but there were only trails of dry salt beneath his downward-cast eyes. He would be fine - we were almost there. I turned my head forward again and froze.

Some hideous thing was crawling around the corner. Though it had skin and limbs, any resemblance to a human must have been an illusion. It didn't seem to have external bones, so much of it was just a charred, flesh-like mass. Most of the skin was burned away, and I saw some strips of it curling like worms off of the bubbly, blistered body before flying off as if they were just tiny pieces of paper on fire. I wasn't sure if there was a mouth, but there was something gaping and moving on the front as if it were screaming. It reached one of its limbs towards us in a pleading manner, and we both stepped back. It took me a few moments of morbid curiosity to realize that the flesh and skin were regrowing as they were being burned off.

My companion took a step towards it, into the heat, to do something for the suffering creature, but I didn't move and he couldn't get close without letting go of my wrist, so he stood there and watched it burn. He looked back at me, relaying the monster's pleading. I felt the same horrible, crippled feeling inside - the inability to ease someone's suffering, and my expression was enough for him to understand.

I thought it was screaming before, but then it opened its mouth wide and its breath simply came out and was incinerated instantly, making it seem as if it were breathing fire. It closed its mouth suddenly, and the fire followed inside before escaping out of randomly-placed holes in the body, illuminating the surface of the skin briefly. In that second, I was able to make out more of its details. It wasn't human, and the various marks on its skin were identification enough.

The demon collapsed, shaking and shivering from its continual misery. I thought of the various possible crimes this thing could have done during its service, cultivating pride and greed and the various things that made people's hearts harden and leading them to hand out unspeakable cruelty to others. Still, it was hard not to feel some sympathy for this creature. We could do nothing for it, though, so we moved on, trying to step around the body.

As we neared the burning body, I started to remember things about my companion. Vivid memories began to flood into my head. I saw my companion sneaking his hand around the waist of my wife, pulling her close to him, leaning in for a kiss. I saw her and I together, yet emotionally distant. Now I knew why, and my rage started to flow through me. I knew what to do - I would simply yank my wrist away, severing the connection and leaving him in the fiery dark with this creature instead, where he could never touch my wife again...

I took one step away in preparation and a sharp fragment of skull pierced an inch into my foot. The sudden pain shook me out of my focus temporarily. It was enough to give me pause about what I had been thinking. My wife... my wife... what were those memories? They felt alien to me now - I never remembered being distant from her... I looked down at the creature who had rolled on its side to watch me. It was still serving its purpose despite being burned alive. The feelings of jealousy, anger, and revenge faded quickly and I pulled my companion forward quickly, away from the demon.

We didn't have much more room to escape its presence, though. After rounding the corner, we were only a hundred feet from the Divide. It was a formidable sight - nothing was like it. It was the point at which the air simply turned into fire, but the fire was mostly pitch-black. It would have been impossible to see at all if not for purple edges of each lick of flame. It felt as though the cavern had simply ended abruptly at the edge of a black sun. As my eyes continued to adjust, I could make out thousands of hands and arms barely pressing through the fire before being sucked back in by the sun's gravity.

I saw some debris tumble into view out of the corner of my eye, and I turned my head to witness the demon being dragged by an invisible force back towards the fire. It struggled to hold onto anything, and its body began to rip before it finally let go and hurtled through the air, igniting again just before it splashed through the Divide and disappeared from view. I was thankful for the silence.

We stood there for mere seconds that seemed like hours.

The return trip was always faster, with the temperature cooling down the further we got away. The hours seemed like seconds, and suddenly my companion was gone. He was somewhere else in the world, I was in my bed, and my only companion was the familiar sloping curves of my wife's silhouette as she slept soundly on her side.

I never understood much about the role. Why I had been chosen, who my companions were, if it was all some kind of punishment, or what it all meant in the end to either of us.

The soft snoring continued as I sat up and swung my feet onto the ground. I winced from the sudden pain and knew that my feet were still bleeding.