It
turns out, Ahriman reads my blog.
He
showed up at our apartment the other day and said to me, “So I hear that you’ve
become bored doing Father’s will?”
Oh
shit he looked unhappy. And when Ahriman’s unhappy, he makes sure to share that
emotion with everyone around him.
“Get
in the car. I have a job for you.” Ahriman’s socializing skills are
unparalleled. I didn’t have a choice though, since he is the boss. We got into
his car, and he drove us to… wherever it was he needed me to go.
As
we went down the roads, I quickly figured out where we were going. There’s a
cult town in a rural, isolated region outside the city. I usually stay away
from the place; it’s too Fifties for me. All smiles and perfect suburban lawns
on the outside, and all human sacrifice and despair underneath.
We
parked in the town square, right next to the mayor’s house. My attention kept
being drawn to the large gallows in the center of the square. They weren’t in
use right now, but they had an ominous presence contrasted with the outwardly
cheerful town.
Ahriman
opened the mayor’s door without knocking and entered. There were several
servants inside, but they averted their eyes from us as we approached. One
accidentally bumped into me, and then flew into a panic as he apologized and
ran off. Ahriman didn’t pay any attention to them, and walked us straight to
the mayor’s office.
When
the mayor’s secretary saw us approaching, she began to speak. But as soon as
she recognized Ahriman, she looked down and was silent. Ahriman pushed through
the mayor’s door, into his office.
He
was sitting behind his desk, a smile etched onto his face while his eyes darted
around the room, looking for an escape. “Lord Arhiman!” The mayor said. “You
honor us with your visi-”
“Your
town’s tribute was only half of what you gave us last month.” Arhiman
interrupted.
The
mayor was having a hard time keeping that smile on. “Yes, well, you see, things
haven’t been going as well as they could here, the local economy’s fallen on a
bad patch, we can’t-”
“He
That Is does not tolerate failure.”
The
smile was completely gone. “We’ll have everything you need! We just need a
little more time to gather everything! I’ll fix this situation!”
“No.
You won’t.” Ahriman pulled a pistol out of his pocket, and… and he shot the
mayor. His body slumped over, and there was blood and brains and bone all over
the back of his chair…. I heard a woman screaming behind us. The secretary had
seen the murder. Ahriman pointed the gun at her and said, “Be quiet, woman,”
but she kept screaming. So… he shot her too.
Then
he pointed the gun at me, and I
almost screamed, but kept it under control. “You have a knack for scrounging up
money. I want you to go through all of this town’s records and find anything
else we can squeeze them for. You will give me a full report by the end of the
week.” He pressed the pistol up against my forehead. It still felt warm from
the shots it had fired. “Unless, of course, you think that such a task would be
too boring for you?”
Took
me a few tries, but I pulled out a “No sir. I’ll get right on that,”
eventually.
“Very
good. I’ll send up someone to clean up the mess while you work. Praise be to
Father.” And then he left me there with two dead bodies.
…
I think I’d like to go back to the boring routine now.
"Lord Arhiman"
ReplyDeleteWhat kind of pretentious asshole asks to be called "Lord" in this day and age.
It's only pretentious if he started it. When someone calls you lord you roll with it. It's a show of weakness to actively deter a strong sounding title.
DeleteWell, that'll certainly teach you for tempting fate like that.
ReplyDeleteYou're not paranoid enough. Those asshole read everything.
ReplyDelete