Everything has to end, even dreams so far removed that they seem like the echo of whispers. Tyber knew this, but still it didn't make him feel any better about the situation. He loved Renna more than he could readily understand or even equate to mortal thoughts. Things had abruptly changed for them in some stark and forsaken way. Yet through the rough of it, he loved her all the more. No matter how bitter it got he wanted to protecther from any harm, no matter what the miserable cost.

Renna had left him to return to a former lover named Jeffrey Halmont. He was a rich, over privileged chunk of scum with the moral capacity of a hyena. His longing to regain Renna's favor had been little more than a demonstration of his negotiative abilities, preferring to gain a trophy wife to an eternal union of souls. This had been the one and only thing that he had ever lost. With soft words and false veneer adoration he had enthralled her spirit, making his will hers. His humiliation had been painful. But now he had won.

Tyber had followed them for weeks like a whipped dog following its abuser. Every detail of their daily routine became an aspect of his own, even so much to the point that his dreams emulated every functionality. Shopping, work, and play were stitched into a grim freakish feature. It was then that the plan was born and festered in Tyber's head, easing its way into reality like a worm burrowing to the surface after a heavy rain.

He wanted to kill him. He needed to kill him. Every inch of his being told Tyber that this was the thing to do. Visions of Halmont's brains being splattered on a concrete wall made him cringe with a morbid satisfaction. After some intense soul searching he thought better of it.

A few weeks passed before Tyber and Halmont crossed paths again. It was a random encounter that soon escalated into a verbal onslaught. Tyber jammed his fist right into Halmont's face and said, "If you ever hurt her I will kill you!"

"I'm not worried," Halmont replied with scorn. He was an arrogant man.

"Remember my words," Tyber said softly. Remember my words...

Mere days passed before these two combatants were at each other's throats again. Tyber went to the Halmont estate to plead one last time with Renna not to marry this man. This solemn keep had not been an easy one to invade. Surrounded by high, menacing stone walls it stood on the horizon like mighty Olympus. Nothing would stop him from saving her, no force on this earth at least.

Tyber scaled the wall like an agile cat. Security had been dismissed for the evening, leaving only a few underfed dogs and a very long walk. His feet crunched in the autumn leaves as he made his way up the drive towards the palatially Gothic Halmont manor. It would be difficult getting inside the stark and serene edifice. He had to try.

In just a matter of seconds after his feet had hit the weathered stairs Jeffrey was there to greet him, brandishing an old Civil War pistol in his hand. Two cold eyes stared down at Tyber, and he knew then that he would die on this night. Halmont pulled back the hammer of his gun. The sweat rolled down his face in rivers of cold desperation.

"Stop!" he screamed as his hand tightened around the grip. The sweat ran over his lips; his tongue lapped it up nervously. He pointed the gun at Tyber.

"I shudder to think what you plan on doing with that relic,"--Tyber smiled coolly--"Maybe you're going to beat me to death?" Tyber glared defiantly at Halmont. "There'll be a reckoning."

"I fear not," Jeffrey said, pulling the trigger. The lead ball ripped through Tyber's chest and killed him instantly. The butler came after hearing the shot, running at such a hasty gallop that he nearly fell through the door. Halmont just looked coldly at the corpse, like a man staring at old news. "Call the sheriff. Tell him that I killed a murderous trespasser."

The whole incident was quickly brushed aside. A man of Halmont's stature didn't answer to the law, they only used it as a means to an end. Few even knew that Tyber was dead, least of all his beloved Renna who had been away the evening of his fateful demise. Soon the entire matter was forgotten and Tyber was left to rest in a potter's field without honor or acknowledgement. Alone and forgotten he waited.

Wicked clouds twisted in a stormy black sky. It wasn't a pretty day for a wedding, but Jeffrey Halmont cared little. This was all for the show anyway. He had his prize, and it had been sullied well before their betrothal day. All he had on his mind now was business...and his next game.

The sun went down, but there had been little change to miss from the daylight hours. Rain was pouring in torrents from the heavens. Soon the air took a chill as a shadow passed through the glorious social parade. A man was standing in the crowd--he was darker and more severe than the rest. He didn't fit the others. Halmont could feel his ashen stare breaking his mind down into elemental chaos.

Jeffrey was out the door in a hurry. His skin was twitching frantically, as the gooseflesh boiled down is yellow spine. Stepping around the corner he headed for his waiting car. From the shadows a voice said to him, "You and I have business." A fist hit him in the face knocking him out cold. It all faded to black.

When Halmont stirred he found himself chained by his feet to a giant concrete block in the middle of an expansive pit. The walls of this crevasse stretched some 100 feet high and at the top were several torches. This immense hole that he was in was itself enclosed by a walls which he could not see the top of. There were no stars there.

Pulling on his chains, he strained to get to a steel ladder that ran up one of the walls. Muscles and skin began to tear in shrieking agony, but still it would not move. What was this place?

The floors and walls were lined with giant metal plates held into place by large brass rivets. The steel was brown with rust, and water still stood in areas on the floor. His mind was vacant of any reasonable ideas.

A voice called to him from above. "Rise and shine." He looked towards the heavens.

Standing on the ledge was a man dressed in a charcoal suit and a strange styled top hat. "Your guests had impeccable taste. After all, I should know, I killed one of them," removing his hat from his head. He laughed. "It was delicious...it had been so long since I had broken a kitten's neck," he said twisting his hands in a wringing motion.

"You bastard," Jeffrey muttered softly.

"Quite," he replied. "Quite right." He threw his hat down onto the waiting ledge below.

"We have some business to reconcile. The books need to be balanced, so to speak. All of the debts must be cleared.

This, that you see around you here, is the Murphy Water Works Reservoir #5. It was constructed back in 1823 and it can hold as much as 23 million gallons of water. Back in its hay-day it was the main supply of water for this entire county, but now it is merely a second reserve. About every 5 years or so they drain this pit, check the rivets and seals, give it a thorough cleaning, and refill it. It's never used though except in times of dire drought. This year was its time, as is it yours.

At midnight it will begin to fill, and 4 hours later it will be about half full. Don't worry though, you'll be long dead before that." Then the dark figure raised his hands towards the heavens and smiled.

Halmont gasped, and then asked, "Why me? What did I ever do to you? I don't even know you."

"What does it matter? You did me as you do all others, except my price was a little more grave." He reached in his coat and pulled out a small, dark object. Then he tossed it down to Halmont and said, "That was the lead slug that the undertaker pried from my chest. It broke 2 ribs, and ripped into my right lung. I bled to death choking on my own blood, and you don't remember my name!" Then he laughed coldly.

The terror in Halmont's eyes told the tale. He began to shake as his nerves wound tightly into a tense little ball of denial. "You're not Tyber! I killed him. You're dead." All rational thought took flight on the wings of crazed angels.

"Exactly," Tyber replied. "As soon shall you be."

Halmont began jerking at his chains trying to free himself. It was a pointless endeavor, but he continued to strain to get free. His hands sweated profusely as he pulled, slipping away from their work. The progress that he made was measureless.

"You see it was decided that you had done more that your fair share of harm in this world, and that a nemesis was needed. The Devil was busy. He had much more important things to do with his time, like tormenting whores and drunks. Nobody else wanted the chore. So, since I had a lot of time on my hands and we had a history and all, I volunteered to place your fragile soul on the straight and narrow. But sometimes a shove works better than a nudge."

"You're insane!" Halmont screamed.

"No, just fearfully made," Tyber commented. Fearsome is the heart tempered in the flames of Hell, and fierce is the soul that survives the ordeal. Such was Tyber, a nemesis divine.

The water began to flow. Halmont's screams rose to the Heavens like a sinner's prayers. Soon he was floating on the surface.

Tyber reached into his pocket again, and got 2 small gold coins. He threw them down to Halmont and said, "Give my regards to Charon. But remember, don't pay the Ferryman 'til he takes you to the other side of the river."

Halmont was gurgling now. The ripples of water splashed over his face, as the chain's pull grew ever shorter. His gasps became more prolonged and his heart raced under the pressure. The water's waves softened now as its volume reached an initial state of equilibrium. Soon Halmont was beneath the surface, crawling and digging to free himself from this deep blue burial.

Tyber stared below, and gazed at 2 glassy orbs staring back at him from under the water's edge. Then he said, "So long." He was gone before Halmont sunk to the bottom dead.