You would think that you'd have seen it all by the time you've reached the age of eighty-two, that's over eight entire decades of life to have been lived, people to have met, and experiences to have been absorbed; yet one night while Missus Hobbsworth was tending to her pigeons in the park, she bear witness to something that would be as rare as Hailey's Comet itself. Although I think that I may be getting ahead of myself and need to turn back the clock.

The clock, an invention that must have been born out of necessity, after all, imagine the many different parts that must go into just the humble watch itself, the intricate movements inside that have to work as a metal symphony just to move a single hand one inch to the right every second of every day. Overworked. Unappreciated. These are things that Sisyphus would typically say about himself while doing the more tedious jobs given to him-- tending to the headquarters large gardens with nothing more than a single bucket and some overalls, playing hide and go seek and not being sought for hours. None of them spoke to him like when he was given a hit-- ohhhh, they joy that was brought to him every time a name found itself onto his desk.

Which is why when the slip of paper appeared sitting there under a rock in front of him after he had stepped out of the shower, a small tear welled up in his eye and slowly fell to the floor. Plop. Plop. You'd never be able to get a sound like that out of your head once it was stuck inside, almost like those old show tunes they'd play on the radio. There was this one for cereal that had particularly been damning to his memory and the humming incessantly of it most likely lead to a lot of sour looks from those who he passed on the streets.

All of this, you see, holds very little relevance to Missus Hobbsworth, but in another way it is everything. Her entire eighty two years has been culminating to this one moment, and the clicks on the clock, the plops of water, and even her own crinkling of the bag she was holding in her hands would cease to exist, at least for her. She wasn't the intended target and in fact wasn't even meant to be in the area that Sisyphus was tending to his work, yet here she was. Bad luck, poor timing, or a mixture of the two, I suppose.

"Fuck..."

Sisyphus was usually so careful. Methodical. Talented. Perfect at what he did to the point that some would question if he were a human or rather some form of android, calculating everything in his head with precision that just wasn't seen by the average man. This time though, it was different, and his mark not only got away, but an innocent was murdered. Into the woods the banker fled, he had been working for the mafia over the years and was recently caught skimming money; which in the civilian life meant jail or being fired, but here something more sinister had to be done, and killing and old woman just wouldn't cut it. He still owed his life.

Unable to remember his name completely, as he ran into the woods Sisyphus began shouting whatever male names sounded appropriate at the time. There was a Josh, a Mike, a few Stevens thrown in for good measure, but fuck, what was his name? Trying to think back hard on the piece of paper he lost somewhere in the kerfuffle, he realized that he had taken one too many turns without paying attention and seemed to be lost in the woods. Damn. Not being a boy scout by any stretch of the imagination there weren't a lot of options for him outside of sometimes opting to switch out his screaming of random names for the occasional "Help" instead.

Hours passed and then what felt like days, but most likely were only more hours. He was starving and there wasn't much out here outside of what looked to be berries and mushrooms. Oddly there were more and more snacks to eat as he found a little hut in what looked to be the middle of nowhere, only the trees to bring it company. Eating away Sisyphus finally felt better than before, his stomach no longer grumbling and now instead just sp.

Outer Space

Whatever has to be done must be done. We cannot let them take this city. We have spent millennia here and this is where we will hold our final stand. These are the words etched in space that they don't let you see. It hides the secrets to the universe and now and henceforth this is where the secrets will stay. Sisyphus, he knew the secrets more than ever before. A million memories all played back in his mind without any real buffer between them, and his thoughts melded into a symphony. He had ascended into space itself.

Entering the giant building at the edge of space he peered inside. The door knob shifting and oozing inside of his hands until it floated into the sky and disappeared completely. The walls shifted ever so slightly and changed colors, there were some colors that didn't even exist and others that had always existed, neither of them caring about the other and moving in complete harmony.

Then there was darkness.

Waking up wasn't much better than before, but instead of space he found himself in a shack in the middle of nowhere. Where did the magical building go? Why was he here? There wasn't a lot that made much sense right now, but what Sisyphus did know was that a gigantic rat-man stood in the corner of the room. It thought that it was sneaky, it thought that he wouldn't be able to see him; yet there it stood with its rat eyes and rat teeth, it was so much larger and more disturbing than the ones he had seen in the New York City sewers.

"I guess there's nothing to see here... AHH!"

Lunging at the creature with all of his might, Sisyphus spent the next three minutes beating it senseless and without any remorse. His hands were bloodied and he wasn't sure if it was coming from him or the rat, but he did not care and only continued the ravaging of the monster, he would be a hero.

Then again, there was darkness. This time for the span of about thirty minutes if his clock was still telling time properly and there on the floor beside him laid the man he was sent here to kill. Already dead. The tag on his shirt simply reading 'Keith'.

"Oh, so that was his name."

A lot of questions remained completely unanswered for Sisyphus, but he couldn't stay here much longer after eating most of the plants whoever owned this place had spent so much time cultivating. Dragging the dead body a few hundred feet, he finally found a clearing where he was able to bury the body. A job well done. Now he just had to find his way out of here...