Clink. Clink. Clink.
The Pennyman sat in the stone cabin in the woods, his bag of obols on the floor beside him. No one was dead, no one was dying. He reflected on the bridge he had allowed to be built, and the souls he had allowed to walk across that bridge. He sought out each of his relatives, the thirteen who had taken the opportunity and come back with their souls across the bridge and the river Acheron. Graham he knew about and only briefly spied on him as he prepared the camp at White Sands. Erebus, his father was missing, or just did not want to be found. His mother, Nyx, was as devious as ever, sitting within the shadows in Las Vegas, a small contingent of troops surrounding her, plotting. Gaia and Thalassa were, true to form, only interested in the earth and sea, at least currently, and had not brought any of their souls with them, content to revel in their newfound freedom.
He sought out Phanes and when he discovered that the man that was the god of procreation was walking around within Boulder City, he quickly retreated, taking his three steps back to the cabin. It was then the he heard the barely perceptible call of the almost dead and he grabbed his bag, appearing in an open field beside a prone man in a black leather jacket, the grey Gargoyle emblem clearly visible upon it’s back. The man had a pierced lung from a broken rib, and recent exertions had made the situation worse. His breathing was haggard and shallow. The Pennyman sat by waiting for the man to die.
It was while he was waiting that he realized that they were not alone. Acmon sat on the outskirts of the field, watching from the tree line. The Pennyman motioned for him to approach, and instead of walking the distance, Acmon appeared beside the dying man.
“He’s mine,” The Pennyman said, as the man’s breathing got even shallower.
“Not yet,” Acmon said with a smile. He leaned over and spoke to the unresponsive man. It was not until he stood up again that the Pennyman saw the man nod, albeit slightly. Acmon bent down again and kissed the man’s forehead. “Be healed and arise Davey Boy, a soldier against your former master.”
Davey Boy did as instructed as a flash of light accompanied the kiss.
The tug that the man had previously had on the Pennyman vanished and the two left him, disappearing arm in arm as they walked off into the field. He watched them go and worried after the two of them. The worry was short lived though as he felt the pull of multiple dead as Graham found a nearby community to torch and torture.
Clink. Clink. Clink.