by The Union Leader
“The one I represent requires you.” Said the man on the doorstep. He was at the door, wearing a hat that was archaic, discarded itself like the man.
Maximilian Janus, who had just woken up from slumber, had the slightest clue what was going on. His brown hair was in disarray, his attire was not washed in days, his hearing was mute at the time, and vision blur.
Maximilian blinked several times, “What?”
“I said ‘the one I represent requires you.’ He is not patient as I am, and he requires your service immediately.” The man started to look impatient, complete verbal irony.
“I see you’ve just waken, you know… The high paid service.”
Maximilian’s sense came to mind, “Aha! That service. When-“
“You will need to kill seven people. You’ll be paid four hundred thousand, you start now.” The man handed Maximilian a piece of paper.
“Well, four hundred thousand? That is a nice offer but I’m not dumb. I only work at night, so if you will wait a day then-“
“Your service must start now.”
Astounded, Maximilian asked, “Why do you require my service?”
“Then who does?”
“The one I represent.”
“Who is that?”
“Look on the paper. It’s now or never. You start now and you end at midnight.”
The man started to leave.
“Hey wait! I can’t-“
“Forget that! You are imperative to the one I represent.” The Man left.
The man did not answer. Maximilian, only heard the wind blowing past, brushing against the man’s robes. I guess I should start, Maximilian thought, looking at the paper, folded several times with perfected creases. Maximilian unfolded the paper.
It contained names, addresses, descriptions of the people he required to kill. It even contained the hobbies, where the victims go regularly. He continued down the sheet, at the bottom, in tiny text, contained an address of the man paying Maximilian for his services. That man, was Zeon Isador.
Maximilian Janus, preferred to be called Janus, had no doubt that Zeon Isador was the man that took over Xenon Inc. The company that stacked billions in the past years. Janus left to his basement. Twenty three feet under the ground, sealed in secrecy under a rug in his kitchen.
Funny how Isador took over Curse’s company, Janus thought, now he wants to kill the man.
Janus went to his tiny kitchen. He perceives it to be larger than his two bedroom home. A home he furnished with god-made furniture. Janus bent down and lifted the rug revealing a small basement door. He opened it, and went down a flight of stairs.
The room, or armory, had weapons of many sorts. Swords, knives, arrows, axes. Some still stained with the blood of Janus’s past victims. He collect only a few weapons. Only knives and daggers and to be skulls and daggers when he arrives home.
Janus, now nourish with breakfast, left the house. He concealed his weapons in out-of-fashion robes and an extravagant amulet., to look innocent. He was already on the sidewalks of Draynor Village, looking back at his small home, cottage. He pulled out the piece of paper, unfolded it, and looked at the closest people to him. There were: Four in Varrock, two in Falador, one in Adrougne, and one in Lumbridge. Janus decide to move east to west, starting at Lumbridge. The victim Lumbridge was Don Luciana.
Janus quickly turned east on the road ahead and ran towards Lumbridge. His heart beating for a kill. Don Luciana was a man of respect, he was the head of the notorious Luciana crime organization. Janus knew things about this organization that others would kill him for knowing it.
Don Sindri Luciana. Don Luciana, formerly Sindri Puzo, changed his name to Luciana to hide from the murders he had committed forty years ago. He had killed his own brother, slain his wife, burned his three children alive. All for a betrayal by his brother, who felt that crime isn’t good and handed his brother over to the officials.
The Don only had one brother, his mother, who died when he was twelve, and his father was killed before he was born. The two brothers, Sindri, and Constantine, the one who betrayed, grew up on the streets. They hid and lived in an abandoned hut in the ghetto of Varrock. The brothers stole for food, threatened others for it, raided shops, and mugged passersby.
Constantine hated his sins. He refused to hurt anyone. Sindri would scoff and call him ‘weak’ and ‘girly’. Constantine would always cry. The Don always laughed at those times. Constantine married a girl at eighteen. Sindri went on to create a gang. The gang was, the Phoenix gang, now nearly dead. After he left the gang, he began a series of murders. Some by himself, others by his friends, and some by hired assassins. The most popular victim was the king himself. Constantine found out and told the officials. The Don scared, killed his entire family, changed his name to Luciana, and moved to Lumbridge.
The Don was with his son, Fredo, or Federico. They were out buying grocery at the outdoor city markets. He was window shopping. Browsing goods throughout Lumbridge.
The Don spotted a stall that caught his eye. Jewelry, something that might interest his daughter, Connie.
“Fredo, stay here with the horses,” the Don demanded, “Don’t get yourself chasing women and not those horses.”
The Don walked towards the stall. Browsing the merchandise. The man operating at the stall asked, “How can I help you sir?”
The man had an Alkharidian accent, which made the Don believe he was from Al Kharid.
“Are you from Al Kharid?” asked the Don, in his best Alkharidian accent.
The Don was astounded. From rumors of his friends, the jewelry and crafts from Al Kharid were not natural. They were rumored to be ‘false’ and of bad omen. “These aren’t jewelry! They’re fake!”
“Aah. You are one of the victims of them rumors. Listen here.” The man picked up a stone and displayed it to the Don, “See? This stone is from the chasm near Al Kharid. Trust me, those rumors are never true. Al Kharid’s jewelry are of best quality and great for gifts. See? Flawless. No nicks or scratches. I can assure you that my friend.”
The Don studied the stone, and then on to the jewelry for a few minutes, “I’ll think about it.”
The Don heard a squeaky voice. The voice of Fredo from afar. His voice was the squeakiest even for an eighty six year-old man like The Don to hear. “Pops! Behind you!”
The Don quickly turned around, pushing aside many of the jewelry and knocking them to the floor. “Hey! If they break, you pay!”
A man in black smiled. He held a sword covered in blood. The blood dripped off the sword into a trail leading to the Don. It was the Don’s blood.
Janus, who was tired from traveling for two hours to Lumbridge, was already starving for lunch. It was three hours from the proper lunchtime, Janus predicted as he checked the clock tower hovering over Lumbridge. He knew that Don Luciana lived in reach of the city walls. He knew someone that was in the Luciana Family, or the Luciana crime organization.
He first went to the city gate, which was guarded by two guards. A fat one, perhaps stupid, and one with a unfairly large mustache compared to anyone’s. There was know one else going into or out of the city, it wasn’t rush hour time or anything.
One of the guards had an exclusive knight’s sword from the white knights. Janus, a collector of swords himself, felt an envy for it. There was no one else around but that mustached guard and the fat guard who was snoring nasally on his chair. He approached them
“Hey, nice sword. You got it from the White Knights?”
“Yes, “ the guard replied, “How did you know?”
“Because I killed a white knight.”
The guard’s eyes widened. The fat guard paid no attention and continued to sleep. “You killed a white knight? Impossible!” The mustached guard felt fear consuming him. The white knights were near invincible. Then along, some man in black robes brags about killing one.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Oh you will, I’d like the sword please.”
“No. This sword is special.” The fat guard’s snoring increased.
Janus became more serious. He lifted a sleeve of his robes, revealing two knives. “I’d like the sword.”
The guard raised his special sword at Janus, “No. Not without a fight.”
“Very feisty you are. Let’s go.”
Instantly the guard jumped at Janus swing his sword at Janus’s side. Janus parried the attack with only his hand. He pulled out a knife and circled the guard.
“Wow, your quick,” said the guard, as he cautiously stayed still. There was an ominous presence and an awkward silence for a few minutes. Then.
Janus raged at the guard, he grabbed the guard by the neck, pushed him onto the gate. Several bricks were crushed at the blow, there was a crack of bones and silence as Janus pinned the guard by the neck to the wall. The mustached guard felt it as if legs had disappeared. He couldn’t move his arms, his body laid inert between the wall and the man in black robes.
“Robert! Wake up and help!” the mustached guard inconsistently yelled for help. The fat guard had awakened.
Robert, fat and just woken up from Steve’s cry for help, immediately grabbed his sword and aimed it at the attacker.
“Let him go!”
“No thanks.” The attacker, with a dagger in his left hand, and right hand pinning Steve to the wall, had already attacked. He threw the dagger at ungodly speed. The dagger flew and pierced at Robert’s neck. He felt blood dripping from his neck to his torso and onto his crouch. He quickly died.
“I’ll give you the sword! Don’t kill me!” Steve said, as he tried to take control of his paralyzed body.
“No. I’m going to kill you anyway, your paralyzed. There’s no point in living if you couldn’t even piss your pants or move your body.” Janus said as he pressed harder at the guard’s neck. The guard gasped quickly for air, but failed. Minutes later, the guard died. Janus left the bodies as were, took the sword and concealed it within his crafty robes, and fled into the marketplace from the gate.
Lumbridge was full of merchants, trying their best to sell Janus their merchandise. He ignored them and went on to finding Don Luciana. It was easy to find such a man in a small town, only if he hadn’t moved or was out of town. Lumbridge was dirty, smelly, and full of dregs. It was a ghetto for the poor. Nothing of interest to high society, a place where authorities have no interest in doing their job. A perfect place for thugs.
It was very possible that Don Luciana is at home, being fed by his son, Frederico. The son should be in his forties, babying his near ninety year-old father. There is not much power left in the Luciana Family, the organization’s original power had been cut by two-thirds because of betrayals and government officials closing in. Many of their former men left to start their own families, or to quit the life of crime. Janus knew this could be an easy job. An easy kill.
There were many beggars, mendicants of filthiness. There were several on the streets, even in Lumbridge central, the main market. Janus decided to take a break and look around at some stalls. At sight of his robes, and the necklace he wore, a beggar confronted him.
“Anything for me s- sirr?” the beggar said. He wore leather, a some poorly made robes. He held his hand out.
The beggar reached for the inordinate valuable around Janus’s neck. Janus, offended, grabbed the beggar’s hand and snapped it. The hand of the beggar was twisted in an alien way and white bone was visible at the wrist. The beggar screamed, loudly. Many people stopped to look what was going on.
“He tried to rob me.” Janus tried to explain to a crowd of interested people.
“No! I- I- didn’t! Don’t be deceived by this d- d- demon!” cried the beggar, cuffing his broken wrist with his other hand.
Janus laughed, “How could you listen to this fool?”
Many of crowd return to what they were doing and did not complain, nor were excited. The beggar ran off, crying. Janus continued to look for some nice items, until, at a jewelry stall, he saw… Don Luciana. And not from afar, Frederico Luciana tending to two horses on a carriage.
Janus knew it was Don Luciana. No doubt. The man, shorter than him, hid from under a hat, which should surely cover his bald head. Janus approached the man. Crafty as he was. Hidden from any view, Janus slowly pulled out the stolen sword. He was only a foot away from the man. Then…
Janus, with his natural killing instinct, stabbed the sword into Don Luciana’s side. Don Luciana, quickly turned around, knocking over several jewelry. He didn’t happen to notice that he was bleeding, nor the excruciating pain.
The Don yelled, “Fredo! Help me!”
Janus turned around, looking for any man stupid enough to run at him. No one, he continued to his kill.
At this time, there was large puddle of blood on the concrete ground. Don Luciana had his hands covering his wound, trying to catch the blood. Janus confronted him.
The Don screamed as a deluge of sharp cuts pouring from all over his body. His neck, his back, his thighs, his stomach, all now spewing purple reddish blood. Where is Fredo! My Fredo!
The stabs from the man in black robes continued on him. He finally collapsed and tried to yell “Fredo!” but the words couldn’t come out of his mouth. His own son had abandoned him.
“Get away from my father!” Fredo yelled as he tried to stab the man in black robes with his sword. The man parried the attack quickly. The speed was unmatched, nothing Fredo has ever seen from a simple man. He anticipated this man was a hired assassin from one of the families. Possibly from the Czerwinski Family, a long time rival to the Luciana Family.
“Touch him, and you die.” Fredo threatened the man.
“You are chivalrous, and confident of saving your father. But stupid. Stupid is the word that describes a character like you.” Cursed the man. He vilely moved around Fredo, holding a blood stained sword, always pointing at Fredo.
Fredo didn’t move, he knew some skills of the sword himself. Fredo, plunged his blade at the man. Bravely, he kept swinging his sword, with the man evading every time. Fredo grew tired after a few swings, tired enough till he felt he could drop the sword, but his mission was to save his father.
Fredo dropped the sword, and ran to his father, who was lying on the ground and kneeled down beside him. “Pops, I’ll get you help. You- Your o- okay.”
Tears ran down from his cheeks, the Don said, “My son, don’t give up faith, take care of the family.”
The Don died, Fredo, crying himself, yelled, “Okay now! I’ll kill you! You bastard!” Fredo tried to turn around to face his father’s killer. Before he could know, the killer had immersed his blade into the back of Fredo’s neck, right after the words ‘You bastard’
Janus, again fresh and starved for another killed, made his way to Varrock. He decided to kill a man named Von Sawyer. Who lived in a wealthy neighborhood called Rivendell. Two hours later from his kill, Janus was already at the entrance to Rivendell. He could see the Von Sawyer mansion, if it was possibly the Von Sawyer mansion
In minutes he was there, he knocked on the door, three times. A girl opened the door. “I’d like to see Mr. Von Sawyer please. Tell him to meet me out here.”
Von Sawyer, back from a warm bath, disgruntled walked out the door. There was a man wearing black robes, he seem to be friendly in a way. Perhaps a chivalrous knight, or a no good merchant like Zeon Isador.
“How many I help you?” asked Von Sawyer, in perfect English. The man pulled out some parchment from his robes.
“It says here that you have vilely cursed at Zeon Isador, you’ve given him a bad name for sometime. Well, in return, he wants you to die.”
Von Sawyer’s eyes widened. He was scared, too scared. The man wearing black robes and an amulet around his neck was possibly a hired killer. Zeon Isador! You bastard!
Instantly the man took his necklace off and wrapped it around Von Sawyer’s plump neck. He began to suffocate. He lost all control to his body, which was shaking vigorously. He expelled waste from his body as he too, lost control of his sphincter. He tried to regain control of his body, lashing his arms at the attacker behind him. Von Sawyer kept slipping on the urine covered patio, he couldn’t yell, he could barely move. Finally, Von Sawyer died.
“Father may I- Oh My God!!” the girl shrieked, “Help! This man killed father!”
The girl had on a robe, covering her but letting Janus slightly see through it. She was probably much younger than her. She kept screaming for help, Janus only stared back in delight of another kill.
“Shut up!” screamed Janus. His eyes, full of rage.
With his natural instinct, Janus pulled out one of his daggers, and submerged the dagger into the girl’s left chest, and left the scene of murder.
Janus, hungry from his past victims promised himself to go to the Old Boar Inn to meet his friend, a bartender at the bar, Tom Brady. Tom Brady and Maximilian Janus had been old friends. They did business together, killed people together, even traded girlfriends to have sex with years back. They were both twenty six years old, different dreams, but same purpose, to live and let live.
Janus decide his next kill was Daniel Erman, a journalist. He decided to kill that man and go to the bar, and then kill the last victim in Varrock a girl. He felt the need to rape her, then kill her. A joyful afternoon after all.
He was in Varrock Square, in the center of all these merchants and stalls. Daniel Erman lived south of here. In a normal neighborhood, he was possibly still working right now. Janus went to the Varrock Times building, which was the only newspaper in Varrock aside from the RS Daily that contributed to every major city in Runescape.
The Varrock Times building was south of the west bank, near the smithing house there. Janus could see it from Varrock Square, he began to walk. Unfortunately, he stumbled upon a merchant, who was carrying a chest full of ores.
”You okay?” asked Janus. He helped pick up the scattered ores before any tramps could get them.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” Said the merchant.
Janus hoped the newspaper journalist would be at work. Chances that he wasn’t. Varrock was a large city, but not large enough for Janus to take hours to get to west Varrock, it took him minutes. He was already in front of the building.
The Varrock Times building had to be the tallest building in Varrock. It erected at four hundred sixty two feet high. It happened to be the most exclusive building in Varrock. It had the most elaborate architecture yet of man. The building was not only a newspaper printing factory, but a hotel, restaurant, and a six hundred person theatre, for plays, and entertainment. The building was twenty four stories tall, and the top tourist attraction.
Janus entered the building. There were four counters, only two were occupied. He went over to the closest occupied one on his right.
“Do you know a Daniel Erman?” asked Janus.
“Yes, I do.” Replied the women.
“I’d like to meet him,” said Janus.
“That’s near damn impossible, Daniel Erman is the best journalist here. He has no time for you. Don’t cause him or us Inconvinience.”
“Well, I understand, I had a story anyway. I’ll tell another publication.”
“Wait, I think he’s on break now.”
“I’ll get someone to bring you to him.”
It was a matter of minutes before an escort arrived. The escort brought Janus up fourteen floors, and to a hallway, where many people waited on seats lining up to a door. On the door, it read ‘Erman’
“Just set down to the unoccupied seat closest to the door, first come first served rule. It’ll be a while since there is like let’s see.. Eight- Nine people waiting.” The escort said in a firm voice, “Thanks.”
Janus nodded to the escort. The escort left.
Robert Bale looked to the scene of the murder. Two dead. Von Sawyer and his daughter, on the front porch of their mansion. His daughter stabbed in the chest, and Mr. Von Sawyer suffocated by an amulet tied to a metal chain. The chain had cut into the flesh of Von Sawyer, making him look nearly headless. Robert took the amulet. It was his only piece of hard evidence to find the killer.
Robert Bale was a white knight. Not always in his shiny armor. The leader of the white knights set him to investigate upon the Luciana crime. Now, it followed him to this. It was very possible that the two murders were linked to a crime organization. All witnesses have claimed to have seen a man in black robes with an amulet. More hard evidence.
“The coroners are taking the body, I suggest you leave now knight. This is no investigation for you, “ said a man.
“Really? I suggest we work on this together then. Well, it is possibly linked to crime organization.” Replied Bale.
“Well, then, name’s Morton. Just call me Morton there’s no need for my surname. I represent the Varrockian guards in this case.” Said the man.
“Okay. You know anything about this?”
“No. Not much just that two people from a wealthy noble family are dead.”
“I believe it was linked to the killing of Don Luciana and his son earlier this morning.” “Really? I believe I have evidence it’s not.”
“Well, it’s practical I might say. Don Luciana is a man of crime. Von Sawyer is a man of noble causes. Who would want to kill Von Sawyer? You see. Lets say some mafia clan hired an assassin to kill Don Luciana. Well, why would they want Von Sawyer dead? He has done nothing wrong against someone. Nothing.”
Bale chuckled. “Perhaps you are wrong. I have talked to witnesses from both crime scenes saying there was a man in black wearing a chained amulet around his neck.”
He presented the blood stained amulet to Morton. Morton scanned it several times. He said, “This is a very rare stone. Well, it’s completely secured into the amulet.”
“This amulet was used to kill Von Sawyer.” Said Bale. Putting the amulet back into his pocket.
“What about the weapon used to kill Von Sawyer?”
“Perhaps that weapon was so rare, it was removed from the crime scene.”
“We’ll just have to wait and question more witnesses.”
Janus had been waiting for at least an hour. It was almost noon, and the line seem never-ending. He was up next, just waiting. The door slammed opened with Daniel Erman, a six foot man, enough muscle to lift his own weight. He looked stupid, angry, and overconfident. There was another man, old, same height, with a cigar in mouth. “Daniel, we need another story about Zeon! You can’t get another story then you’re fired. You see? Stories about the beauty show is unacceptable! Zeon-“ said the older man.
“Sorry boss, but the Zeon Corporation won’t tell me what their going to do next. Their board of officials said that any newspaper publication posting a story on their front page about the corporation would be shut down. The Zeon Corporation has unlimited power over Varrock.” Replied Daniel, scared to death by his boss.
“Get another story then, I want you to gather all information about the Zeon Corporation.”
“But I just”
“Do it. I care less about this publication. The RS Daily is beaten the hell of us by having the best articles in Varrock. They just published their newspaper with everything about the Zeon Corporation.”
“They are owned the by Zeon Corporation.”
The older man sighed. “Okay, there’s nothing we can do about the Zeon Corporation. Their the upcoming thing in Runescapian life. Nothing can compare to a large company with a lot of money.”
The older man left. Daniel called for Janus. There was no one else in the hall but Janus, Daniel, and the door to his office. Daniel led Janus into his office. There was a mahogany desk of fine veneer. Daniel sat on the desk and Janus sat in a chair.
Daniel Erman picked up a paper, holding all his appointments. “I don’t believe you scheduled an appointment with me. How’d you get in here?”
“Too complicated to tell you.” Replied Janus.
“Then get out!”
“No. I have information about the Zeon Corporation.”
“Yes. The information lies in my blade, which is in your flesh at this minute.” Daniel looked down. He felt an excruciating pain. Janus had thrust a blade into his stomach, deep enough that it stuck out his back. He felt his blood coming out of him in all directions. Janus smiled. Daniel, screamed.
Bale and Morton, heard several screams from afar. They looked towards the screams from the Von Sawyer estate. At the tallest building in Varrock, the Varrock Times tower, there was a dark figure atop of the tower. There were several people being hurled off the building. Some figures had missing limbs, others were lying still.
“What the hell?”
“Let’s go!” Morton yelled. Bale and Morton ran towards the tower. It was a near two miles away. They kept running. Bale concluded that that dark figure atop the tower, could be Don Luciana’s killer, and Von Sawyer’s murderer. Bale always predicted the wrong.
Marcus heard a vague scream from the floor above him. He, always wanting to be a hero, ran towards the stairs. Many others who stopped their daily work ran with him. The screams continued. In minutes they were already on the floor. They heard the screams come from Daniel Erman’s office. Marcus and his fellows ran through the hallway, knocking over several chairs. They bust into the door. Shattering it.
There was a man in black, with a knife into Daniel Erman. The man looked malevolent above all. Daniel Erman was already dead. Marcus, with his amiable personality, begged, “Please don’t kill me.”
The man in black rushed towards Marcus and his friends, hurling the knife towards one of them, slashing their throat. It was time to fight.
“Die you son of a-“ his friend yelled, not until he was slashed at the throat. Many of the fellows ran, the ones audacious enough were the only ones fighting. Only three of them were left, Marcus, and two others, and two bodies on the floor. Marcus was angry enough, he charged at the man, the man dodge him and pushed him to the floor. The two other men charged and were stabbed instantly.
Marcus, face down on the ground, with the man in black placing a foot on his head, asked, “Hey buddy. Just let me go!”
The man in black was furious, “No.”
He pulled Marcus up with his foot, and pinned him to the wall. It was only him, the man in black, and a knife to his neck. The blade hovered over his right eye. Carefully. Surgically.
Marcus, clever enough, tried to reach for a feather pen in his right pocket. He reached it, pulled it out, and stabbed it into the man’s side. The man in black didn’t move. The feather pin had only pierced his heavy robes. Sweating, Marcus begged, “Please. I have kids.” He lied.
“Then they shall live without a father.”
There were many people running towards the massacre in Daniel Erman’s office. Janus, fearing he was outnumbered, ran upstairs to the top. There were more people, armed with chairs, some daggers, and office equipment, confident to kill Janus atop the Varrock Times tower.
There were at least twenty people, armed, like an angry mob trying riot about. Janus, unwounded, holding small daggers in both hands hurled himself at them. In minutes, he had slashed arms, throats, chest, legs, and several were dead.
The people begun to circle him, he charged at a man, slashed his throat, and hurled him off the building. Janus kicked another in the crouch, the man fell and screamed, cupping himself. Janus killed two more, and another, and another, until it was him and one man. Ah, the sight of death is great. Killing is pleasurable. Women are pleasurable.
Until Bale and Morton got there, they were so many people, parading themselves out of the Varrock Times tower front entrance. Many were wounded, missing arms and other limbs. They piled themselves atop another, trying to get the hell out of the building. “Morton! Stay here and help the people get out!” commanded Bale. He went to the side of the tower, trying to find another entrance in. Nothing. He came back to the entrance. Morton was nowhere in sight.
Bale, knowing that help would come, ran around the building, twice, and ran to Varrock Square. Morton was nowhere. He came back to the Varrock Tower. He saw Morton, chasing a dark figure towards the west bank.
“Moron! Wait for me!” yelled Bale.
“It’s him! The man in black, hurry up!” Morton yelled back. The man in black ran to the back of the west bank. Morton followed, and Bale followed in a different direction, hoping to corner the man.
Bale and Morton had already cornered him in minutes. The man never revealed a speck of fear of them.
“You’re under arrest.” Morton demanded, “For killing the innocent people.”
The man in black scoffed, “Really? I don’t see why I should be under arrest. I was doing my job.”
Bale demanded, “Did you kill Von Sawyer and Don Luciana?”
“Of course.” Replied the man. Morton, bitter and antagonized, uncovered his sword from its sheathe and charged at the man.
“NO! YOU IDIOT!” yelled Bale, and he tried to dissuade Morton from attacking.
The man in black smiled. Morton charged at him, he effortlessly dodged the attack, leaving Morton hitting the brick wall. The man in black chuckled.
Morton got up, “You bas-“
The man in black threw a dagger at Morton, he stopped in the middle of his ranting and dodged it.
What? I never miss.
Morton swung his sword downward on the man’s head. The man, parried the attack with his other dagger. Morton, surprised at the man’s strength, relieved the attack and unleashed another.
After several minutes of Bale watching in terror of how easily he fights against Morton’s sad excuse for a battle, he pulls out his sword and enters the battle.
The man chuckled, and charged towards Bale. Bale dodged, and the man ran towards Morton. Morton, on the ground, tired, didn’t see the man. The man in black stabbed Morton in his right shoulder and ran.
“You okay?” asked Bale, as he kneeled down to cover Morton’s bloody wound with his hands.
“Nah, It’s okay, I’ll get help. Go after the killer!” demanded Morton. Bale followed his order.
Janus, who had changed to white robes at the clothes store, went on to the Old Boar Inn.. After all, he was fatigue and hungry. So far he has been infallible in his works, and was stealthy as it was. He had also promised himself to meet his friend, Tom Brady, who works at the bar.
As Janus traveled across Varrock towards the northern wilderness borders, he could hear many people screaming, crying, in fear of the massacre he caused at the Varrock Times tower. Better than anything else.
It was only minutes, not hours, before Janus could reach the Old Boar Inn. As he stepped in, he saw many people, talking and eating, and his great friend Tom Brady. Tom Brady was always with an imprudent behavior, and was contentious in every situation. Tom had packed on a few pounds to his five foot body, he had became more muscular, but no change in attitude. Which Janus had no problem with. Tom was washing the bar, not taking orders or anything, just washing. Janus approached the bar.
“I’ll take a beer, or maybe a kebab or something. Anything.” Ordered Janus, smiling. Tom looked up from washing the counter.
“You dirty bastard!” Tom yelled as he embraced Janus in a hug. “So, I’ve haven’t seen you in a while. Your job pretty full nowadays?”
“Yeah. I had some of the top mafia heads hire me.”
It was true. Janus had been hired by the Czerwinski, Maranzano, and Aprile families within Runescape. No soldier could compare to the number of murders Janus committed. Life was great to him as it is.
Everyone in the bar looked up at Janus.
“Dude, shut up!” demanded Tom in a whisper. “There might be some authorities here, if you understand.”
“I got it. Anyway I have a job now. Just taking a break.”
Tom understood him well.
“You require help?”
Janus told Tom the entire story. From morning to the time he has to pick up the pay. Janus told Tom about his future kills, a girl, Sir Prysin, and elite leader of the Varrockian Guards, and Matthew Servs, a man who had betrayed Zeon, which was all described in the parchment given to him. Tom brought Janus up into a room, and locked to the door, so they can talk quietly. They both sat on the bed.
“Tom, I need your help to kill Sir Prysin. You know, he’s too well guarded.”
“Alright. What’s my pay?”
Janus was not surprised. “Twenty grand. I will pick up my pay and then pay you on. Possibly tomorrow.”
“Any other kills?”
“No. Just some guy and a girl.”
Tom was delighted. “You planning on raping the girl?”
“Women are so tools of pleasure. I happen to have one coming to me in about ten minutes.”
“How bout this, you rape your girl, and I’ll rape mine. Give ourselves about two and a half hours, to do whatever. Then in the afternoon, we go kill Sir Prysin in his bed on the castle. I’ve heard he would be going outside during the afternoon to check up on his guards.” Tom said, “You’ve haven’t eaten right?”
“Not since dawn.”
Janus was fed by Tom. Tom himself paid for the bill. They both went on to their business. Janus, now nourished, pulled out the paper that was given to him. He scanned down the list for the girl, Lila. She lived in the more dregs of Varrock, in a small boarding house.
Janus walked in the apartment. He hoped the noise of him crushing the door did not wake the woman he was about to see. This better be good, for I am sex starved.
It was a dirty apartment. Like any apartment in Falador. There wasn’t much to the apartment. Two doors where to his right, and one to his left. The room in he was in was a living-kitchen room. It was garnished and decorated slightly to have a nice feel. A wooden table stood in the middle stacked with unwashed dishes, a sofa with more holes in it than a sponge could. Janus’s excitement increased as he opened the door to his right.
Then he opened the door next to it. Bathroom.
There was one door left, he slowly crept towards it. He put his hand on the doorknob, and slowly turned…
There she was, like a maiden Janus has never seen. In perfect slumber. He pulled out a knife, still stained with blood, and pointed the point of the blade at the girl, tracing at her body.
The girl’s name was Lila, as so the paper given to Janus declared. She was covered with a blanket and wearing a small dress, ragged and discarded, which described her appearance as someone beautiful, but poor.
Is she naked? No she’s not…
Suddenly, the girl woke and yawned. Loudly, that Janus stumbled upon his own feet at the sight of her awoken face. She saw him with the knife, and screamed. Janus now had a more perfect view of her. Staring in the ominous presence, Lila could only be described with one simple word. Beautiful. Janus gazed upon her golden hair, and then to her dashing blue eyes, and to a small mole under her left eye that to Janus’s opinion, amplified her beauty tenfold. He wanted this woman more than anything. But as Zeon Isador quoted, “Money comes before anything in this world.”
Janus raised his blade, and approached her. She squeaked slighty as he came closer. He stared at her with unclear love, she stared back with frightened love. Janus went on the bed, he raised the blade to her neck, expecting a frightened response. She smiled and just stared. Janus smiled back, believing what kind of idiot Isador is to want such a beautiful creation ended.
Janus kept creeping closer, and closer. He finally got on the bed with her, holding the knife, pointed at her chest. She remained taciturn. She moved little, only to be getting closer staring at Janus. He felt a warm sensation flowing throughout his body. Suddenly, as by magic, or that the gods meant him to do this, Janus dropped the blade, and cuffed his arms around her. He started to slowly raise her skirt…
Sir Prysin had no chores. Nothing. Simply to go on his everyday afternoon walk and to dream about retirement. He had ranted Zeon Isador, a young lad of great dreams to be broken by his own greed. Prysin never would again rant someone of unlimited power. The captain strolled down the sidewalks of the castle, outside the concrete walls. A happy and wonderful life.
He now had confirmed his satisfaction to kill the girl. Janus still remembers what wonderful sex the two had. Yet, it was his job, nothing could step between him and his job. The assassin returned to the Old Boar Inn, to continue his killing spree. Tom Brady was in his room, two floors above the bar of the inn. Janus collected a few weapon’s of Brady’s, and the two and now on their hunt.
The screams of Lila still were repeating in Janus’s head, his cruel act of killing her. He begun to regret.
“So, Janus, you got a plan?”
“No. I have been confirmed by my broker that Sir Prysin always takes an afternoon walk around the palace walls.”
“Great. We have guards to deal with.”
“I’ll kill Sir Prysin, you hold off the guards and I’ll reinforce you after I get the kill.”
“Alright, simpe\le enough.” Said Brady as he carried his axe on his shoulder. A small boy confronted the two and asked.
“Mister, why the big axe?”
“We are bear hunting.” Excused Janus, “Piss off now.”
Janus continued to the castle walls, Sir Prysin was already there walking. “Quiet Tom, go to the nearest entrance and hide, when the guards come out to aid Prysin, kill them.”
The assassin went over to Sir Prysin, who was continuously strolling about. Janus followed him, not from afar. Prysin greeted Janus even with his two swords slung over his back, Prysin wasn’t scared.
“So, where do you come from?”
Janus scoffed, “Hell.”
He pulled both swords out, and swung it onto Sir Prysin. Prysin screamed as his blood sprayed over Janus’s white robes. Many guards came to aid but where slaughtered by Tom. Janus ran to assist Tom against the guards.
Morton was on his bed, lying, resting. He was assured that he will continue his profession once his should heals, which is in two weeks. He had his great time, and reckon Bale was closing in on the killer. Morton had heard several screams of agony. He never dared to look out the window, but went to the entrance of the castle to see what the fuss was about.
Tom swung his axe, and beheaded another guard. Janus slashed through the pile of guards coming at them. He and Tom retreated out of the castle walls, he could still see Sir Prysin laying dead on the sidewalk. The two ran. With an army of guards coming after them.
“Get him! Call for more men to corner the two!”
Tom laughed at how the way the guards tried in vain to kill him.
“No but you must rest.” Said the maid.
“No! There’s someone being killed out there!” exclaimed Morton as he pushed the maid outside, he knew something was wrong. A parade of guards ran past him, he knocked one aside and stole his sword.
“I’m sorry but I’ll need this.”
It was hard for him to grip the sword with left hand, since his right was useless to him. Morton ran out the castle entrance. A never ending line of guards ran to the event. He could smell blood and hear the clinging of swords, the screams of the ones in pain. Morton followed the guards, trying to grip his sword and deal with the terrible pain in his right shoulder.
If this wound reopens then let it be!
There were two men attacking the guards, and an array of dead and wounded guards on the ground. They were both surrounded in a circle, and tried to retreat several times to Varrock Square. The guards had surrounded them to the left of the castle, and pinned them to a concrete wall, only with about ten feet of space between them and the guards.
One of them carried a familiar face. It was the face of the killer at the Varrock Times building. Confident, and wishing that he had the strength hours earlier, Morton ran towards the two, pushing several guards aside. He confronted the killer and his accomplice face to face.
“You’re surrounded.” Yelled Morton, “Surrender now or will take you apart, slowly.” “Is that so?”
“You know this guy?” the accomplice asked the killer.
“Shut up!” commanded the killer. The accomplice seemed familiar two. He was seen somewhere, Morton remembered seeing the man drinking ales at someplace… Old Boar Inn! That man is Tom Brady! He remembered.
“No. I would rather die than surrender, I see you bring an army of guards, let’s say, fifty? Sixty? You bring them to circle me and my friend, but you will never make us surrender.”
“Where’s you’re friend? I see you have had assistance in your wound.” He glared at Morton’s bandaged shoulder. “You can’t fight with one arm, its like one tit on a woman.”
The killer and Tom Brady charged towards Morton. The guards caved in on them, Tom swung his axe at the guards, several fell immediately, others stopped to hold the blood flow from their bodies. The killer ran towards Morton and attacked with his two swords.
Morton dodged it, slowly. He attacked the killer, but it was parried by two swords. The killer moved against, he moved with a fighting style never seen before. Probably Kharidian style. The killer attacked Morton again and again. Morton dodge every attack, but never could counterattack. His shoulder weakened.
The killer dropped a sword and swung the other at Morton. Morton felt an excruciating pain in his right shoulder, he dropped his sword and fell to his knees. His vision blurred, to see his own blood flowing on to the concrete, and the blood of his fellow guards. The killer immersed his sword deeper into Morton’s shoulder, the tip of the blade met with his lungs.
Janus ran. He yelled at Tom to run for his life, “Get out of the city!”
Tom obeyed, he ran with several guards coming after him. Janus ran past Varrock Square, the west bank, and to the reaches of Barbarian village. He dropped his sword into the grass, and ran, pushing aside many passersby.
Janus, was spotted by many nearby residents of Barbarian village. The red blood stained robes he wore was a spotter. He ran never the village river, hoping to cross the bridge. His lungs were on the verge of exploding in his body.
“Hurry!” screamed a guard.
Janus jumped into the river and swam.
Matthew Servs was no ordinary man. He had enough in his life. His betrayal of Zeon Isador to support a man with the alias ‘The Union Leader’ was beneficial. He made much money, and The Union Leader promised that he would never be tried for the crimes he did.
Servs placed his brother, Manolo, as a around the hour guard in his home. For the purpose guarding Matthew’s wife and children, and to benefit from their love. Servs was always wandering about, trying to join the Czerwinski regime, or possibly the Luciana. Any job was necessary to support his family.
Serves was at the bar, drinking drink by drink. Talking to fellow drunks as he drank more.
Janus cried about Lila. He could’ve, called off the job, neer kill again, and spend a lifetime with his love. He thought again, and again, about her as he traveled in his new robes to Falador, to kill his last kill.
He was in an inexpensive neighborhood, still thinking about Lila. The neighborhood was beautiful, all bricked houses. He pulled out the parchment, completely wet with the ink splattered all over. Fortunately, for him, he was able to make out the words. Matthew Servs. That man was his last victim. The address was still legible.
Janus was at the house. There was a garden of flowers. The odor of the flowers traveled as he traveled towards the door. Janus knocked on the fine oak-made door. He thought yet again about Lila
Manny, or Manolo, was playing with his brother’s children, keeping them company as Claire prepared dinner.
“Hey, when do you think Matthew will get a new job? I think he can get a fine one at the olive oil industry. Simple.” He said to Claire as she cut down on vegetables at the kitchen counter.
Claire responded, “Why don’t he just work at your place?”
Manny continued to play a board game with the children, Ben and Abby. “Nah, I don’t think they will accept him.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
There were several knocks on the door. “I’ll get that.”
Claire, amused at how Manny was more of a husband than her own husband, went to the door instead, “I’ll get it, you play with the kids.”
“All right, I’m bored kids, you want to play a different game with Uncle Manny?”
Claire opened the door.
Bale bent down, he studied the dead body of Morton. Sadden by a near twenty deaths, he turned to the officer and asked, “You know anyone else that was involved?”
“No. There was an accomplice that died while trying to escape. That was it, we’ve put everyone on curfew, no one is in the streets until these bodies are cleaned.” Replied the officer.
“Okay.” Bale replied, “I can’t believe I was in Lumbridge interviewing witnesses. You would have required my help if I was here.”
“Yes. We needed everyone we could, about a third of Varrock’s elite guards were either killed or mortally wounded, by only two people. Sir Prysin and Morton Shaw were among them.” Said the officer, knowing that Prysin was a leader that he always had looked up to and Shaw was a childhood friend. Shaw was one of the best.”
Morton Shaw, so that’s your last name, thought Bale.
“Bring me the body of the accomplice.”
The officer nodded, several minutes later, the body was brought to him.
The accomplice’s body was tattered, torn, all bloody from the blades of the guards. Bale could barely even make out the face with all the dismembered tissue. The man was Tom Brady. Tom Brady the top beer drinker in Varrock. Bale decided that there was no further evidence to find the killer. Just that the man had dived into the water and swam off. Tired and disappointed, Bale walked to Falador.
Manny ran to the door, a man wearing black robes, had stabbed and killed Claire. He was frozen, he thought about saving the kids, but his instinct took over. Manny charged at the man, he tried to go for the knife, but failed.
“I’ll kill you bastard!”
The man in black, threw the knife, he missed. Manny charged at the man, slamming him into a wall. The scene became a fistfight.
Ben and Abby ran to Manny as he was pinned down, by the man in black.
“Don’t hurt my uncle!” screamed Ben. He ran to the man in black, and clenched his teeth on the mans right arm.
Gabriel Appleby sat in his leather armchair. He sat for hours, thinking of his failure, of what he can do in his last years. Gabriel owned the largest company in Runescape, Xeros Inc. He went around helping poor Runescapians get on their feet. Until he met a poor Varrockian named Zeon… Zeon Isador.
The boy was ten years younger than him. He was poor ragged, a miner, nothing in common with a mendicant. Gabriel introduced himself to the fellow as ‘Curse’ like he always does, helped him, taught him the trick of the trade. Months later, Zeon formed a partnership with Salvatore Czerwinksi, head of the largest crime organization in Runescape. Gabriel failed to believe it happened, he went to Zeon to form a partnership for the sake of their businesses. The deal was a reciprocal, a give-and-take, both parties would gain much from the deal. Unfortunately, Zeon’s greed focused on more, on Xeros Incorporated, itself.
Zeon came to Gabriel’s Faladorian mansion, along with several men. They threatened Gabriel with knives. In exchange for his life, Gabriel must hand over the multi-billion gold worth corporation to Zeon, and to obliterate all partnership with other powerhouse companies. Gabriel handed over the corporation, and moved to another estate in the outer reaches of Adrougne. The business world could not imagine what Gabriel did, not retiring, but destroying the partnership between his corporation and others, several companies went bankrupt, the market failed for several days. Gabriel Appleby was treated as a dreg of high society.
Gabriel stared at the fine grandfather clock across from him, One hour past midnight, I should get to bed. He spent hours one what to do. Get a woman, marry her, have children, and live a wonderful life. But with the past events, nothing could have given Gabriel happiness. It was his company that gave him happiness, the society would love him, people would invite him to parties, treat him well, nourish him with food. Now, nothing.
There was a sudden knock on the door.
Gabriel went through his kitchen, through the dining, the formal living, and then another living room until the door. The knocks went consistent.
“Alright! Alright! I’m coming!” shouted Gabriel, What kind of bastard would traveling at a time like this?
He opened the door. A shady figure stood.
The shady figure rudely walked into estate, gazing upon the furnishings around it. The figure had robes, layers and layers of clothing. Alien in a way.
“What the hell do you want?” Gabriel demanded.
The figure released its hood, revealing a handsome face. A man, characterized with dark eyes and luxuriant hair that fell to his eyes. Gabriel surveyed, concerned.
The figured revealed a blade from its robes.
“Zeon Isador bids you farewell.”
Gabriel felt excruciating pain from the left side of his neck. He tried to yell, he couldn’t. Seconds later, he died.
Janus dragged the body of Curse through the house. The blade was still inside the dead man’s neck. Janus cared less about the staining blood that was left behind, it would leave the authority a nice trail. He dragged Curse onto the first kitchen. There was a cabinets under a gold sink. He cut of the head with the blade of his short sword and hid it there. It detached the arms and hid them under a bed. The legs buried in the estate’s courtyard, and the torso was burned in the living room fireplace.
Janus now was late. He predicted a one hour and thirty minutes late from the midnight due time for the payment. Maybe I shouldn’t have infatuated with that girl. Janus had several intentions to steal many valuables from the home, but in doing so, would leave him in much more danger of authorities finding out.
“Hey! Anyone there! The Royal Paladins of Adrougne are here. What crime or murder have you committed!? Come to the door or we will use forceful measures against you.”
Oh my god! Janus panicked. His heartbeat doubled, perhaps tripled as he nervously tried to come up with a way to get out. He hadn’t been this nervous. Janus was a man of control. He’s never been this nervous since the first time he had killed a man. Crash!
The guards came in. “Holy mother! What have you done!?”
Janus knew that the guards had found the blood, he was in the second story, at least a predicted fifty yards from them. He had tried to implement a plan to get out. The thoughts in his head were mixed with scenes of him and Lila hours ago. There was no way out. The trail of blood would soon lead the guards to the stashed body parts, and too Janus himself. There was no way. Janus could he the guards screaming words, them breaking doors to try to find them.
Janus’s natural instinct came. He ran out of the master bedroom, into a corridor leading to many other. He ran to a room, quickly, faster than any man could run. He needed a room with a window.
Janus was out. Out of the house, and running faster than he could run. Vomiting saliva in short stops and then on continuing. In minutes he was already out of West Adrougne. As he ran, he pulled out the paper, and read the sentence that contained the address.: That man that will pay you. Zeon Isador, at 11621 Cherry Grove, Yanille. The address repeated and repeated in his head.
Matthew Servs, the righteous drunk, inserted his key into the lock. Knowing that he was late, and skipped dinner with his family. No worries, he knew that his wife was going to yell at him, and his brother, will always try to calm her down. Life was as usual. Drink, eat, sleep, and get yelled at. He opened the door.
“Oh my god!” Servs screamed. He screamed at the top of his lungs. The terror that he just saw of beyond any terror. His wife was dead. His brother, was stabbed to death, and his children less than children. They were burned to death.
It took him two full hours to get to Yanille. He was already two hours late. Janus had killed, more than seven people. He killed several guards, a love, the richest man in Runescape, and children. Janus continuously sensed the craving for Lila again. His heart ached that he could never feel through her luxuriant hair again, never to kiss her again, never to see her again.
He saw the large mansion from afar. He started towards it. Thinking that his pay was worth it, but the sacrifices.
A hand fell onto his shoulder.
“So, the great Maximilian Janus, the top assassin in the mafia underworld.” Said a dark voice. Janus turned around. To see a man standing, sword slung over shoulder, and a darkened smile. It was hard to make out the face in the dark, but it was very familiar.
“How’d you get here?” asked Janus, “And how’d you know me?”
“Simple. I asked questions. Simple questions.”
“Really? Who answered?”
“Ah.” Replied Janus, in a calmed voice. “Who are you?”
“Robert Bale, the man that had chased you all day.”
“Well, please do not disrupt me, I’m picking up my pay.”
“In a small town of Yanille? No way, there’s no crime organizations in Yanille, its peace.”
In the ominous presence, only the wind to be heard. Janus, stuck to his sense, kill the man. He pulled out two daggers, his last remaining two. He pointed them directly at the man.
“No. We’re not here to fight.”
“Because we all have to make sacrifices for the things we want the most.”
The man walked away.
“You are two hours late.” Said the man at the door.
Janus nodded, “But you have seven to bury.”
The man smiled. “I’ll get your pay.”
Janus waited, he thought of how he could waste the remainder of his life. He would kill no more. He thought yet again about Lila, about the children, his eyes fell nearly to tears of how he killed them. They were innocent.
“It’s my job.” He had told her. The line repeated in his head. It’s my job. Now, job or whatever, he vowed to never harm another soul. Moments later, the man appeared again at the door. Along with two men larger than Janus.
The man handed Janus a certificate. “You’re pay is only thirty thousand.”
“What? I spent all day on killing them! Your representative told me four hundred thousand!” Janus exclaimed indignantly.
“Well, your two hours late.”
Janus thought again about Lila, what sacrifice he had made for money. He took the certificate and tore it. He dived into tears.
“Aw. The greatest assassin, crying?” laughed the man.
Janus cried louder.
“Argh. Kill him before he cause people to look, “ the man ordered the men.
“Yes Mr. Isador, with pleasure.” Replied one of the men. The man picked Janus up and dragged him onto the grass. The other pulled two knives out and repeatedly stabbed Janus.
Janus never screamed, but he cried about Lila, how he had killed her. The pain was no pain. It was only the doors opening to the afterlife. Hopefully. The man held Janus down so he could not budged. The other stabbed him.
There were more tears than blood.
The Union Leader
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