Being the key bearer was a difficult job, but it came with benefits. Dental, for example. Even as she reminded herself of this, Ann felt distinctly put out.

It was supposed to be a quiet month, as November tended to be. All the kids searching for the keys to Elysium har gone back to school and were focused on finals after Halloween. The parents were focused on the upcoming holidays and scolding their children for low grades. Other adults were working on getting just a few more hours in before inevitably blowing their entire savings on gifts for relatives and friends. Ann was preoccupied in the same manner.

She had been out shopping, the key to elysium on a chain around her neck tucked beneath her shirt, when she had dipped to the bathroom. It didn’t take long for an older woman with a stern face and glassy eyes to lock the door and start to wait. She lurked near the doorway while Ann ignored her and washed her hands. It wasn’t until she had used the crappy dryer and was collecting her bags that the woman spoke up.

“I saw the key.” She said. “I’d like to hold it.”

Ann bit back a deep sigh and forced herself to remain calm. Everyone just wanted to hold it until they had it in their fingers and suddenly had to run away. Ann had really only made that mistake once, and she had barely gotten it back before disaster threatened to strike.

“Why do you want to hold it?”

The woman licked her lips, eyes fixed on the hint of gold on Ann’s neck.

“I’ve heard it grants you a glimpse into elysium. I just want a taste. I’m no where near good enough or rich enough to see it for real, but if I could just get a taste I would die a happy woman.”

Ann shrugged. “Whoever told you that lied. There’s no ‘taste of Elysium’ that comes from holding the key. You have to use it and actually move into the damn place to feel it.”

“I don’t believe you,” the woman said, fingers twitching. “I just need to touch it. Maybe even just the chain,”

Ann shrugged, gripped her shopping a bit tighter and slid turned to the door, keeping one eye on the mirror. The second she moved towards the exit, the woman jumped. She wrapped one arm around Ann’s stomach and took her to the floor. Ann, prepared for an attack instead of a football tackle, let out a little gasp of surprise before her shoulder hit the little trash can and saved her from needing said dental benefits.

They scrambled for a moment, Ann desperately trying to both get away and keep the woman from grabbing the chain at her throat. It would have been much easier with an extra arm.

The woman made a desperate grab for her hair, and Ann just barely managed to jab her elbow into her stomach and scramble away. The woman sat there, gasping for breath, while Ann centered herself.

She touched two fingers to the lump over her heart, feeling the still-cool metal of the little key. Three breaths, hold, three more. She was fine. The key was fine. The woman was getting up again.

Ann slipped her fingers into her shopping bags, finding the little bottle she kept for such occasions. She pulled it out, letting the swirls of red and black catch the light. The woman stepped back.

“Do you know what this is?” Ann asked.

“Tartarus,” the woman spat, staring with pure hate.

“Then you know what it does. Walk away, and I won’t use it.”

The woman stared between the bottle and the chain before snarling and pushing past Ann, leaving the bathroom in a hurry.

Ann took another deep breath and looked in the mirror. Just twenty more years until retirement. Then, she would get that sweet spot up north with the rest of the key bearers. She slipped the Tartarus back into her back, careful to put it next to the sweaters so it didn’t break by accident. Then, she fixed her hair, dug the scarf out of a different bag to wrap around her neck, and went back to face the masses.