Work Text:
The best place to begin, of course, is at the beginning..
There was once a young man who was not as well off financially as he might have liked and felt that he was owed by the world for it. He was afraid of dying penniless in a ditch somewhere, like most everyone, but he also desperately wished for the perks that came along with an abundance of wealth: power, respect, opportunity, . . hope. As time went on, he found ways to increase his income, spent it and saved it and invested it. He found that the more he had, the more he wanted. There was always something just out of reach, like a leaf floating on the wind. As he continued on this path to raking in the riches he so desired, the small seed of greed in his heart he had begun with flourished under this careful attention. Where once he had been willing to make a careful investment here or there for the benefit of others like him, he now sought only for his personal advancement.
The years drew on, but his life did not draw to a close. His greed had become a living thing that would not let him die. Instead, he began to wither in body and mind until he was little more than a distillation of this strongest emotion. He hid behind the door of the penthouse office atop the building he had bought with his ill-gotten gains, two fingers and a bill peeking out into the light, waiting to tempt the desperate, the gluttonous, the unwary passerby.
He never waits for long.