God Of Thieves

1899

Downtown Liverpool, United Japan

A light dreary fog began to hang over the sidewalks, the air thick with the scent of hot steam and brine. The streets were cold and lone, slightly damp from the evening rain that had since rolled onward. Now, all that seemed to echo was the slight footsteps of a boy who was looking for a shop down the way. The boy's gaze shifted upward as spotlights scanned the sky,hovering past and buildings as it revealed the dark clouds above.

The moon was barely visible, tucked behind the large lumps of cotton pressed against the open night like a pitch black canvas.

'YOU ARE NOW ENTERING THE MARKET DISTRICT' a sign read from above the boy's head. Almost nodding at it, the toned brown haired Brit made his way further, his eyes veering past a row of shops pressed against the sidewalks.

He was somewhat tall, his hair done in a slight ponytail in the back, split in the front with a part that made each side of his hair almost leer forward like bangs, which hung in front of his face slightly. He wore a light leather jacket with a thin white shirt under, the seams almost peeling apart from how much he'd outgrown it. His trousers were stitched at parts with patches of scalp cloth. As for the brown boots on his feet, they lacked laces, instead being worn loosely as the tongues flopped outward. His entire getup oozed the sense of low class, but one thing about how he dressed was incredibly off and unusual. The boy wore a single brown leather glove around his left hand. His right, which seemed to be perfectly fine, had no glove. It never did. The boy would never leave his home without the single brown glove on his left hand. This, seemed to throw off others from how gaudy it looked. The boy however could care less. He'd rather have people think of him as weird for wearing a single glove rather than people seeing what was under it for themselves.

He thought briefly about the times people would ask why he did that.

"Oi Riley! Wats dat ya got dere? Is dat a single glove? Where's the otha wun' ya bloke?" He heard the voice of a neighbor boy call in his head.

"Eh, I got a bad burn on it when I was wee. It's real ugly, so I just don't show it, ya know?" He responded confidently, rubbing the back of his head.

Breaking out of his thought, the boy finally found the store he was looking for, it's sign hanging above the doorway in bold black letters.

'DOWNTOWN JEWELERS' it read, and with a quick push of the door, the boy was in.

"G'day young sir, welcome to downtown jewelers. Can I help you with…" a young, dashing worker approached, dressed in a fine suit behind a row of glass cases. After observing the boy and his appearance, the man cut his proper attitude short. He was not to serve a low class peasant like him with such respect and forwardness.

"I believe you got the wrong store, sir. Please, the soup kitchen is further down Waterloo street." The worker continued, a sneer to his wrinkled nose and a sharp tone in his voice.

"Oh, I'm in the right store. I might not look like the kind to come in here and buy something, but I definitely am. So, I'd like to ask for a suggestion. I will be taking something home today." The boy spoke up, his voice clearer and more confident. Giving him one last scan, the worker sighed slightly as he pressed up against the cases, looking the boy in the eye.

"What can I get for you today, lad?" He said unenthusiastically.

"It's my mother's birthday today. I want to get her something small but very shiny. A ring, maybe. Whatever's cheap."

The worker laughed.

"Take a look where you're at, mate. This is a jewelry store, not a thrift shop. If you're here with a pocket full of coins you can forget buying anything."

"No, I've got some yen to spend. Believe me, I don't exactly look like the kind of person to have anything, but I've been working hard. I want to treat my mother with something really nice. She deserves it. Every time she passes this store, she'll stop and admire the things you have in the front glass, especially the rings. So, take me seriously. I want to buy her a ring. Something simple yet beautiful. Have anything along the lines of that?"

The worker rested his head on his hand, thinking as his eyes scanned the case under him.

"The cheapest ring we can offer is available for 45,000 yen." The worker said, pulling out a shiny silver ring with a small diamond cut in its center.

The boy's eyes lit up, his hand frantically reaching for his jacket pocket, pulling out a wad of bills. He quickly counted the money, shifting his hand faster and faster as the wrinkled currency crumpled more in his fast fingers.

"No...no that can't be…" the boy said drearily.

"What's the matter?"

"I thought...I thought Haggard paid me a bonus this month! Since he was closing shop he'd give me a little extra, but the bloke forgot! And that was my last paycheck…"

"So you mean to say you're short?"

"By two thousand, yeah. Look, would you be willing to maybe Eh...spare me a bit? Maybe cut a deal...give a guy a good day...ya know...bend the rules a lil?" The boy said smiling, nudging the worker's arms. He simply stood there hunched over the case, setting the ring aside on the glass as he stared him down.

"Look. I can't spare ya anything. It's against my job. You're better off making a necklace out of macaroni, because I can't get you anything here. That ring was the cheapest thing we have. So, run along now."

Riley, clearly angered and upset, turned around and made for the door, stomping out without a word. Sighing with relief, the worker turned around to enter the break room until he heard something scratch against the glass behind him. Startled, the man twisted back, staring at the case in awe. The silver ring that was once sitting atop a small crease in the glass was now gone.

"OI! STOP!" The worker said, his voice cracking with urgency. He quickly made his way out of the store, attempting to chase after the boy.

"AYE! STOP! STOP OR IM CALLING THE POLICE!" The worker yelled, the boy who was walking down the sidewalk staring back In confusion.

"What? What happened? What did I do?"

"Don't be stupid! YOU TOOK THAT RING! GIVE IT BACK!"

"NO I— oh bloody hell…" the boy realized, making a run for it down the sidewalk.

"REALLY RILEY!? AGAIN? WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAVE TO HAPPEN WHEN I'M NOT EXPECTING IT!? AND WHY THE HELL CAN'T I JUST GET A BREAK!?" Riley thought to himself, his breathing heavy and his legs lunging forward as far as they could. The worker was now running after him, quickly gaining speed.

"JUST GIVE THE RING BACK!" The worker shouted, his voice heaving from the quick speed he was traveling at.

"YOU SEE...I CAN'T REALLY DO THAT!"Riley replied, running for his life as the pedestrians around him began to stare in fright, jerking to either side of his path as he barreled forward.

"YOU WON'T EVER SEE YOUR MUM AGAIN IF YOU GO TO PRISON! SO STOP AND GIVE ME THE RING BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!"

"NO, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I LITERALLY CANNOT GIVE IT BACK TO YOU! JUST STOP CHASING ME, OKAY!?"

"CUT THE BULLSHIT, KID! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE! STOP AND GIVE ME THE RING!"

"I'M SORRY, BUT I JUST CAN'T…" Riley kept running forward, not letting his breath or tiredness slow him down. As he ran further down the street, a massive fire squadron making their way down town in a horse carriage.

Riley continued to lead on the worker, making his way throughout the alleyways and sidewalks of Liverpool, until eventually ending up in his home neighborhood, turning onto the corner where his apartment was.

Then, he saw it. The vibrant orange color flooded his vision, making him stop dead in his tracks. The way the flames flickered sent chills down Riley's spine, his mind rushing with horrifying thoughts. His entire apartment building was burning to the ground, ash and smoke pouring from the windows.

"GET THE PEDESTRIANS AND ONLOOKERS OUT OF HERE! WE NEED TO EXTINGUISH THIS BEFORE IT COLLAPSES!" A fireman said, hopping out of the carriage with an axe. The street was lined with people all looking on in horror, accompanied by a few police officers at the scene.

"Yeah, it's bad. We haven't seen a single person come out of there yet. From what the onlookers said, the flame just started outta nowhere...and spread like a plague. Thank god it's not reaching any of the other residences, otherwise we could have a block wide disaster on our hands…" an officer grumbled to another, crossing his arms as he assisted the firemen charging into the building.

Frozen in place, all Riley could do was stare. His mind was blank now, his expression cold. His skin had gone pale, as white as a piece of paper, which was a drastic change from his usual olive color. Slowly, the boy fell to his knees as he felt a single tear run down his cheek, proceeded by many more that made his face wet and flustered.

"mom...sister...brother...grandfather…" Riley was croaking now, unable to gather air to construct full sentences. He held his hand out, his arm shivering. The leather glove seemed to reach out to the fiery building, blocking his view of the fire.

"I've got to...i've got to go in there...I've got to save them...I have to do it myself...GET UP, MAXWELL! GET UP! GET OFF YOUR ASS AND SAVE THEM! DON'T LET THEM DIE! THOSE FIREMEN WON'T GET TO THEM IN TIME WITH THEIR EQUIPMENT! THEY'LL RESCUE EVERYONE ON THE BOTTOM FLOOR FIRST, SO YOU'VE GOT TO GET IN THERE AND GET THEM YOURSELF! GET UP DAMN IT! GO! GET UP, GOD DAMN IT!" Riley thought, fighting himself as more tears began to drip from his face to the pavement he held himself up above.

He couldn't rise to his feet. All he could do was kneel there, his vision now blurry from the tears. His cries were broken and loud, his head hung down to the ground. The firemen from the building began to return one by one, the flames beginning to die down. He noticed how none of them were carrying any survivors.

"We couldn't save anyone this time, officer. Fire was too fierce and spread too quickly for anyone to make it out of that. Best we can do is put it out and get city morgue here to pick up any bodies." The fire chief said, escorting his men out the building. The police officer at the doorway of the building turned away, his face clearly now saddened.

"Call in the chief and have him escort the bystanders out o' here." The officer barked, giving orders to a few underlings at the scene.

"No...no that can't be...it can't be…" Riley coughed, sniffling his nose.

Suddenly from behind him, the worker from the jewelry store emerged, stopping his running as he caught his breath, then looking up, surprised at the sheer size of the fire before him.

Then, he looked at the boy hunched over on the street floor, his head in his hands, sobbing to himself. Noticing the officers, he signaled the men to approach, pointing to the boy on the ground.