The Trashman
Lucien and the Trashman sat atop the pile of garbage, the sky now painted in the warm hues of dusk.
"Hear me, young man," the Trashman began, his eyes distant with memories.
"I was born in a pile of trash, with a trashcan as my home. I'm a proud Trashman who went from zero to hero." His voice carried the weight of nostalgia.
Lucien, however, was distracted, swatting at the flies buzzing around the Trashman's head.
"In the past, people spoke my name proudly. I even had a beautiful wife and daughter. It was a shame I left this world faster than I thought, leaving them behind," the Trashman continued, his tone melancholic.
Lucien slapped a fly on his cheek, giggling afterward. The Trashman, irritated, stood up, hands on his hips.
"You! Nasty young man! Hear me out! I can feel the darkness nearby, and His power is waking up again! Someone is trying to revive Him!"