Sue’s #writephoto prompt.

It was on nights like tonight that Percy regretted his day job.

You see, his day job meant that he was out on the streets every night too.

He sat there looking out at the snow covered ground, ice forming on the river surface, feeling the chill seep through his skin and deep into his bones.

It wasn’t like he could even buy clothes or a blanket even, to keep warm. The shopkeepers, the customers, children, well, everyone actually, would look at him and scream in terror, closing doors, windows, curtains…

Lights twinkled from the windows of houses. Percy could make out the silhouettes of people, families getting together during this festive time, all merriment and cheer. They were eating and drinking, singing and dancing, and all he could hear was the crack of ice, the howl of the winds picking up.

He settled down to eat his festive meal, well actually it was his usual meal, breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Fish.

Sometimes, if he was lucky he managed to catch a duck, but those occasions were few and far between.

If only he had a roof over his head, and a kitchen where he could actually cook a meal. Instead he was forced to eat the food raw. It was so damp, he couldn’t even get a small fire going.

But who would house him? The Landlords were the same as the rest of the world, slamming doors in his face. He’d tried that long ago, before he realised the ‘free fish’ perk of his job was pretty much the only one.

“Great Prospects!”

That was what had caught his eye in that advert 15 years ago.

“Live-in job, own property included. All the fish you can eat. Respect from the community.”

Sounded ideal, especially since he had been struggling, since the wife left him…

“Strict manner required, adherence to rules.”

Oh yes, he was a man of honour, and knew exactly how to stick to rules, and how to enforce them too.

He’s gone off to the address at the bottom of the advert, and without any interview, or checking of references, the strange woman had given just looked at him, nodded and given him the job, and sent him on his way to a specific location.

Reaching the bridge, he looked around. No house here, but maybe that property across the way was the promised home he would have.

A little wizened old man had beckoned him under the bridge, “Percy? You took your time, I have been expecting you. It’s time to pass on my duties to someone else. He took off what looked like a fur coat and draped it over Percy’s shoulders.

Things started to tingle, and Percy felt a funny turn coming over him. He must be getting hot with this coat. Trying to take it off, he pulled at the sleeve, but it seemed to stick to him. It was like pulling a fistful of hair from his arm.

The old man turned to him, with a little smile, “25 years, that will keep you company Percy. My time is up now, just be guardian of the bridge, it made a great home for me, it will for you too.”

And with that he had disappeared.

Percy looked at his hands, which appeared to have sprouted extra hair. He looked at his reflection in the flowing river.

A hideous face looked back at him, not his own. What was happening to him? And what was his job? Guardian of the bridge? He looked around for the man, who was sure to explain in more detail, but there was no sign of him.

But it didn’t take long to find out what he was meant to do.

“Aaaaargh!” a scream sailed through the air. Percy looked up to see three figures running away. They were shouting as they ran. The words slowly reached him, and it dawned on him what he was now destined to be…

“Troll! The Troll is back!”