#for all you fuckin pigs who like these wretched photos

[vampryn]

trent reznor for spin magazine 1997 photos by andrea giacobbe

[the-cabalist]

This evening, a man came to my humble hut. 

This is much stranger than it sounds. Given my reputation and my services, it is not normal for an average citizen of Ionia to seek me out, especially at night.

Regardless, he came to me seeking services. I didn’t recognize him as an agent of the Cabal, and he certainly didn’t look like a Noxian agent to me. I decided to believe his outfit, and took him at face value as just some run-of-the-mill citizen.

He looked skittish walking through my door. Unlocked, of course. No sense in locking the door when you don’t get any proper company anyway, so may as well leave it open for the wind. I welcomed him inside despite his skittish nature and offered him a drink, but he ignored my idle advances like most men do.

He was entirely business, which didn’t surprise me either. He wanted me to work on his wife, that is to say he wanted her out of the picture to claim her possessions. 

“So this is out of raw greed? Not some emotional discourse or her being a wretch..?” I had asked him, wanting to evoke whatever other information I could from him, as he appeared to not understand the nature of my service.

“Oh, well when you put it that way it sounds wrong, Demon!” the man quipped, wobbling like butter once I said something of substance. “No, I wouldn’t call it greed! I’d call it...” he stopped, likely thinking of a synonym for the word ‘greed’. “... I just want a fresh start! This slow life isn’t for me at all, Virtuoso! Oh, and i’m entirely sure that she’ll chase me half way to the Placidium if she isn’t taken care of!”

I got up from my chair, frankly insulted that this man saw me as some sort of clown that one hires to do a gag or two. He appeared to confuse my work, something methodical and filled with purpose, for something akin to assassination; a practice as simple as ramming a knife in the neck of some unassuming socialite as they sipped their umpteenth drink of the night. 

“So, you want me to remove this wife of yours just because you don’t want her following you around the land like some dejected puppy?”

“Could you quit talking like that, you madman!? Stop trying to inject emotion into everything! This is just something I need done! You’ve got a damn fine reputation as a death-dealer so you ought to know what business is!”

He was correct. I certainly did know what business was, and still do. This simply wasn’t my business, though. His confusion as to what I actually do for men in my line of work appeared evident, and I thought I would remedy him of it. One might say, ‘do him a kindness’. Firstly, I asked of pay.

“What are you paying for this work, sir?”

He didn’t answer with a number in regards to the gold, simply tossing an overweight brown bag of the stuff onto my desk, spilling it over the pages of the journal and into my lap. It served as another sign that this poor man had no idea who he was dealing with. Did he expect me to accept overpay for work? I rarely even care about what i’m paid, it is about the job itself. I took it as an obvious sign of disrespect, as he likened me to some under-the-table assassin from Noxus or Bilgewater, merely looking for coin in exchange for services. I would do it for free if it conveyed the proper message, frankly.

I reached onto the table and heaved the sack up in my hand, feeling it like the curvature on the side of a malnourished courtesan. It was bumpy and uneven, which felt awkward to the touch. I waltzed over to the nearby window which overlooked the craggy rocks beneath and slid it open, glancing outside as I let the evening air into the room. The tension in our dispute eased a little, and I welcomed the chill.

Before the man could cut in about asking as to whether the still undetermined amount of gold was enough, I sent the plump pouch sailing out the window and onto the rocks. It slapped against the various crags until I could no longer hear the annoying sound of jingling coins.

“That was MY MONEY, Jhin! We didn’t even agree to a deal, or a job, or anything yet!” The man shouted, his voice echoing out the window that I had just opened. “I hope you don’t expect me to go crawling down there to pick up all those pieces! Damn it, why did you do that?!” He finished, huffing as if he were a bull ready to charge me straight through the window.

I responded honestly, and in a much calmer tone than the one he took with me. “I did it because you just insulted me, my friend. You seem to equate me to lesser assassins, and I don’t appreciate you walking into my home to both insult me and then shout nonsense at me. Though, the offer was amusing and tempting...” I added, cluing him into my intentions despite my actions.

“Oh, so you’re up for it then, right? You’re going to go sack her?” He asked finally, a glint of emotional and instinctual hope hanging in his eyes. He knew full well that I was now his only option, having lost his pay. I had assumed such, as no sane man would do any risky work without a bit of coin, right?

I gave him a chuckle and drew Whisper off my desk, giving her leathery grip a squeeze. It gave me a bit of courage, and a slight inspiration to pull the trigger.

“Oh, no! No! Not at all! I am not some lowbrow showman, you hog! What about this do you not understand!? Your deal amuses, it doesn’t entice!” I barked, losing my temper for a moment and letting my first shot fly into his stomach. Not an accident, I will admit, but this individual clearly had it coming.

He wailed out, as expected. His hands tightened up and he slumped over onto my table, digging his gloved nails into the poor leg of the furniture. He struggled to stay half-upright. Upon snapping back to reality, he clutched a hand over the new wound in his stomach, only having one free one to support his weight against the table.

I fired off my second, and then my third shot. Not into my patron, though, but straight out the window. He was undeserving of the pain they would cause, and in my murkiness I did not think of two fresh places to bless him with the bullets. Off they went, and off I went around the corner of the table to grab him by the back of his collar.

“Fuckin’... madman...” He sputtered at me, getting a bit of spittle on the polished oak. “Shooting your clients... worse than I thought...” He added, seemingly digging his grave deeper and deeper.

I sunk my fingers just deep enough into his exposed neck to elicit some pain. He quivered and shook, his nerve clearly wearing down at the sense of pain, both fast and slow mixing together within him. I didn’t blame him, of course. When under so much pain and confusion, one could only ever wish for it to stop. Nothing in our realm could be more brutal and convincing than pain, and when faced against a mountain of it there was no room for the brave or the foolhardy.

Before he could throw another round of insults at me, I slammed his forehead into the table. I cracked it, a thing I now regret. The furniture was perfectly fine before I had to muddy it with this man’s skull. Nonetheless, I slammed him into it again, and brought him right up to the motionless lips of my guise so I could tell him something very important.

“You come to me seeking an escape from your lover? Do I look like I deal in petty squabbles of greed? No, I do not think I do. Perhaps i’ll pay your dear wife a visit myself. Now that I see you blathering like some dying animal I have the inspiration to see her.” I had smirked beneath my lips, and from the look the man gave me, I could only assume he could see right through my false face.

Regardless, I continued to teach him what he had to learn.

“There are those in this world that take flesh by the pound, and those that run around mindlessly killing innocents, splattering walls with their filth and their clumsy acts of evil. Ah, that’s the word. Evil. What you just requested of me is so entirely evil that it disgusts me, sir. I do not do the work of evil men, I do the work of necessity. Your request is not necessary. It is evil.” I concluded to him, nestling Whisper up against the side of his head. I let the smoke plume out from the spent shots, the hum of the mist filling his ear and heating his skin as if I had pressed a hot coal against it.

I considered his position. He would likely beg for his life if he had the stones to speak to me again, but he stayed silent.

“Perhaps this is my good deed for the day. I know most men like to keep to that principle, yes? A good deed a day, and it keeps something away. I do this out of charity, though. I have taught you the difference between necessity and evil. Teaching you this lesson is so wholly necessary that I think you’ll be better off in the end.” I informed him kindly, smiling genuinely beneath my mask. My momentary anger had faded away in the rush of my short instruction.

“Worry not, I will let your wife know you sent me, sir. I think I will take pride in teaching her something of value as well.” I assured him, just as I put my final bullet into the side of his head, sending a wave of red out my window.

‘Now it really was blood money.’ I had thought to myself, priding myself on some gallows humor as I heaved the man from his position, and levied him out my door. I dragged him around the perimeter of my home and cast him off down the crags. He sailed down just as swiftly as his money and his blood.

I would have prepared a proper scene for him, but I have little time on my hands. I have a date to prepare for, his wife is waiting! Well, I suppose she is a wife no more. Happily so too, I’d think. Who would want to be married to such a drab and senseless man like that?

I’m sure I will get her to see the light once I come upon her. He kept a photo of her on his person, so at least I have a lead. I merely need to gather my things and head off. I suppose I will have to clean up the mess when I return.

Pigs will be pigs, won’t they?

- Jhin