Judgement

Running through the forest, dodging trees, leaping over rocks, speeding away and laughing.

Murderer ran.

Killing was not just a way of life, it was a job, a passtime, a pleasure. Victims lived on only in a small book, kept well hidden.

A river... deep... too deep to cross without swimming, and cloaks are hard to dry.

Running along the banks, trying not to slip, but with a solid pace and excellent balance. Top physical form was required for this profession, absolute precision in all things.

A bridge yet... how is that possible? A bridge with the waters not only running under it, but encircling it, flowing around it before continuing the trek downstream. The color of the water... bright, clear yet deep blue and are those creatures swimming around it? How can it be? It is only perhaps a meter in diameter.

Stopping in front of the bridge, a sign catches the eye.

*************************

A soul goes through;
Will one come out?
Be judged as who
You are; don't doubt...

For should you fail,
Your death awaits.
The water stales,
For those who hate.

*************************

Murderer smiles. Hatred is a waste of energy and time. It is easier to feel pleasure.

Across the bridge, stopping under the waters, looking around. Where is the judgement?

A glint; sunlight reflecting off the water. Then it is gone, the sunlight. Complete darkness, blinded by pitch black. Nothing happens. Murderer grins, awaiting the end of the test.

From the outside, a figure stands unmoving on a bridge, more still than should be possible, for a few, brief moments before tumbling sideways into the water.

For a sliver of time the arcing waters around the bridge turn bright red, then black; cleansing themselves. Then they return to the color they had been.

The only indication that anyone had ever been there was a small book, drifting off down the river, making the journey home.