“Yes, I am Fa Fumerunner, the middle son of the Fumerunners. Terrible name, I know! My parents really weren’t creative with my dear siblings El and Fu either. Yes, my two professions were being a guide through the Fumes of Fael on weekdays and working as a butcher at the markets. Yes, I did do a little poetry in my off time as well. What can I say, I am but a failing artist at heart.” I can’t help but smile, this is quite the grim situation but completely expected. There is something so… intoxicating with finally being caught – something that makes this moment feel so very pure.
“Yes, I did lead many into toxic fumes. In my defense, it is their fault for breathing in toxic fumes. I mean, they all had masks on! It’s not like I would ever mess with masks so gas can still reach them, right?” I sigh, no response. Quite a difficult crowd has gathered here today. “Suppose you could call this a real ‘mask off’ moment.” I chuckle – been saving that one for quite a while. I look around the dark room and just see eyes of pure hatred returning my gaze. I sigh, not much for comedy this lot.
“You have not answered the question yet, Fa Fumerunner. We know who you are. We know what you do. We know you killed…”
Being caught is the unfortunate end of any crime filled life. Whether it is being caught by the law, other criminals or the tender arms of death, something will always catch us. It’s not like I put my guard down or anything – no, I knew exactly what was going to happen. Hell, I am surprised it took them this long in all honesty. Nothing like a police system that you can weave your way through if you have the right credentials and say the right things. That being said, imprisonment is not all I thought it would be. A bit of a ghastly place that – super boring and the residents are quite dreadfully average if I’m honest. I thought if you put a bunch of awful criminals together, something exciting would happen – oh they are at the ‘ol lists end.
“…and the methods of murder were…”
Ah my favorite part. Honestly, murder is a lot of fun when you have the right mindset. Each time you must be creative and think outside the box. Each life is unique and therefore should meet a unique end. I hate killers that do the same tired thing over and over again. Sometimes you are the hunter and other times you are pretending to be the prey. Killing people by leading them into invisible toxic clouds is just… boringly effective. If I stuck to that, I would still be killing but then there would also be a pattern to my kills and where’s the excitement in that? Thinking back, my lack of patterns probably made it harder to figure out that it was just one killer, and then even longer to realise it’s me. You know what, every now and then I really need to remind myself that damn I’m good.
“…what do you say in your defense? We have a mountain of evidence; this is your end.”
Now what to do? Do I keep going in circles here? Each lap creates more tension and misery, more delicious moments of anger and resentment. I suppose this is my victory lap in many ways. In the papers I will be given most likely a cool nickname for whatever reason – honestly, I don’t get it. Why do people give killers the coolest names? Anyway, everyone will talk about how I finally got the attention I wanted or something along those lines. Let me be honest here, yes. Yes, I am happy for the attention. The sweet and delectable attention I am getting is glorious. It makes me shiver with glee but… a flavor this intense will become mild and boring soon enough.
“Must say, I am quite impressed with your work here. Quite the collection of investigation work, I must say. I wonder if this is everything though… perhaps it is perhaps it’s not” I give the crowd a cheeky wink. “But I must be honest, this trial bores me. While I have enjoyed myself immensely doing what I love. However, it is time I meet my end, as you said.” Huh, I thought people would celebrate a killer who gives themselves up but their hatred is only heightening. “What, something I said?”
BOOM!
One of the people in the crowd slams their chair on the ground.
“HOW DARE YOU STAND THERE AND MOCK US LIKE THAT! DO YOU KNOW THE PAIN – THE GRIEF OF LOSING A LOVED ONE?!”
Huh, interesting question. Asked with the voice of a blood-curdling scream – I am quite familiar with that sound. I don’t really get why people cry over old and rotting flesh… It’s not a person once dead after all and that energy could have been used to stop me before I killed others but no, time had to be wasted on mourning.
“Can’t say I do. I mean, that would firstly require me to love someone. Then it would require me to lose them. Normally I find things I lose; you know what I mean?”
Oh my, that did not go well. Honestly, not my best work there but still, I think a good third of that crowd would probably beat me to death if given the chance now. Let’s make that half before the days up.
BANG!
Damn that hammer is loud.
“ORDER! Fa Fumerunner, you are to answer the question or so help me.”
Oh my, a vein is popping in their forehead.
“Or help you what? Not very professional. Well, as I was going to say before being so rudely interrupted back there – honestly, you really should keep better control of this court. I can barely get a word out!”
“Fa. Answer the question.”
A smile creeps up my lips “Yes. Yes, I did all you have listed, and much, much more. I am quite surprised that this list is all you could find.”
Wow the crowd is screaming now. Again, is it something I said? I thought people would appreciate the truth… no matter, I couldn’t just go without properly expressing all that I had done. It’s not fair on the blood, sweat and tears others have put into my work so I might be a great and prolific killer if people don’t at least know about each person and act I have done.
The next few hours were quite fun. Listing out where bodies were and what I did to them. The next day I spent waiting in my cage for confirmation was not. Then the day after that, I was back and finally ready to be sentenced.
“Fa Fumerunner. You are guilty of 187 murders in horrific fashion-” Yeah, that’s right! Really horrific fashion! Put your chest into it! “-and an additional 298 crimes of varying degrees.” Damn I am good! “You are sentenced to-” Here it comes! Death? Imprisonment for life? “Death row’s March.”
Huh?
“Your cost is 5,000,000 Dregs.”
Wol’zarath that is a lot of fucking money. Good Fael what is this? I knew I should have paid more attention in classes…
“You will be collared and put to work transporting goods through Langnet’s road. Whatever horrors, monsters and curses come your way are not our concern, only that you deliver the goods. You will earn 300 Dregs upon completion of each trip. Each bit of damage will reduce how much you make quite substantially with a minimum of 10 dregs.”
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
I clear my throat “Apologies, I can’t quite remember what this whole ‘Death row’s march’ thing on Langnet’s road is. Could you please remind me? Wouldn’t want to show up unprepared on my first day of a new job” I laugh and give the crowd a cheeky wink who… are laughing with – no, laughing at me.
“Oh, I am more then happy to explain in all the detail you want.” They have quite the large and eager smile. People look relaxed in the crowd. What’s happening? This is not what should be happening, especially after yesterday. C’mon Fa – think. Think! This is just embarrassing…
“Langnet’s road is a long pathway that was built quite a while ago by a foolish yet powerful organisation that through we should go against the natural order. Instead of risking lives travelling through the Tunnels of Tretriah, Gales of Gan’la, Cliffs of Chzmlz and Fumes of Fael, they would connect the planes we reside on together. There is a lovely pathway between us in the plane of purity and the other three planes of pleasure, pastures and potential.”
“I fail to see how this is a punishment. Wouldn’t people use these roads-” wait, why don’t people? They paid me a lot of money to guide them through the Fumes of Fael to the plane of potential, an incredibly dangerous trip where even an experienced guide, such as I, could accidentally end up dead. There’s a laugh. Then another. The whole crowd is howling and crying with laughter. I’ll kill them all. How dare they laugh at me.
“Fa Fumerunner, you really don’t know? Well, if I must explain it to you I shall-”
“No that is quite alright. I remember everything now. Apologies for my foolish questions.”
“Very well. You shall have your last meal here and begin tomorrow morning, bright and early.”
Another fit of laughter.
No laugher at my wonderful jokes, but howling at this pathetic statement? I’ll kill them all.
The day ends with a few more comments about how the dreg collar will come off if I can pay off the 5 billion I owe. Bastards, it costs a good 10,000 to buy a house, maybe 50,000 for an incredible mansion. They might as well sentence me to death. Well, I suppose this is much more interesting. Perhaps I should have asked more questions but that will come later, I do hate being embarrassed and that whole situation was going to make me snap. Not that I could do much if I did, I was and am chained up after all.
Now what is this Death row’s march? Sounds quite mysterious – a road that literally anyone and everyone should use constantly and they send me instead? Monsters, curses and horrors? That a Tuesday for me and anyone who travels often. Also, 300 Dregs? That’s a damn good salary. Why was the crowd laughing? I should be laughing at them. Well, mysteries are quite interesting and travel is exciting. This whole situation is making me tingle with intrigue. I cannot wait to start.
I can barely sleep with the sheer excitement pulsing throughout my body. An unbridled joy of not knowing what is to come. This is the same feeling of getting a good kill – oh how I missed this for the month or so I was locked up. My cage opens and a set of six heavily armed guards look down at me with disgust and amusement. Interesting.
“Fa Fumerunner, we are here to collar you. We are also here to give you your first job. Please follow our instructions to be collared.”
My smile must be from ear to ear at this rate. I eagerly stand up and follow the instructions of standing still and putting my hands out. An elderly hooded individual comes over to me with a collar so black it looks like they are holding a shadow. A dreg collar, huh? An indestructible, unforgeable pure metal that requires a very specific set of magical skills to do anything with, and what money is made from. Oh, how I love it. I have quite the dreg meat cleaver – my baby child Savra. With curves like hers, she’s quite the man and lady killer! With a clang and squelch, the collar is sealed around my neck. The fit is tight. Removing my head would be the only way to get this off.
Now collared, I am lead for a few hours to a large wagon but there are no horses. Huh, am I going to dragging this? It even has a space for horses in the front! I look at the guards with and after a few minutes of them laughing, a horse is lead my way. This horse is on its very last legs and the cargo looks to be quite heavy, even for a fresh and fit stallion. If she kicks the bucket, I won’t be moving much of anything. 300 dregs, they said. Little shits.
“Well, I am at quite the disadvantage here it would seem. No weapon and a horse that is close to death.” I sigh as melodramatically as possible.
A guard walks up to me with a raised eyebrow “No, you shall have a weapon. We are not cruel to the people trying to transport this produce. You though, just make sure no damage occurs. Every scratch is not only going to lower how much you make, but lose too much and no one will give you a place to sleep or food to eat.” They throw something at me. I fumble and awkwardly catch a cloth covered blade with hands still cuffed and chained. Oh… oh I know this feeling, this balance.
“Oh, you didn’t have to!” With glee I hold Savra, my darling meat cleaver wrapped in cloth. “This must be my birthday!” I can’t help but sob with joy. Reunited after all this time. Why they would do this, I have no idea. Why reunite a killer with their blade – oh it doesn’t matter. I am here with a shitty horse and a blade that can butcher her up into a lovely dinner if required. I do hope to meet some other travelers on the road.
The guard walks up to me “Fa, I have done everything by the book and it’s your time to go so let me tell you this off the book.”
He lifts a key. I raise my hands, ready for them to release me. The guards all take their weapons out. No matter how fast I could be, they would kill me long before I touch this guard with Savra. A pity. She hasn’t eaten in quite a while. They unlock the cuffs and they fall to the ground with a loud thud.
“You have some supplies in the wagon, enough food and water for a week. It will take you a week to get to the plane of pleasure which is where you are delivering these goods. Do not think of this as a mercy. We are not giving you a second chance. You will die in this road, if not now then soon. Even if you don’t, you will wish you were dead soon enough. Now get the fuck out of my sight. If I hear one word out of you, murderer, I will drive a blade through your calf. At least do one good thing in your life before it ends.”
A good thing? Me? Oh no, no, no. This is the plane of purity. Everything here is at its purest form. I know I am pure evil, and proud of it. I suppose this shall be my final hurrah. Hmm, that guard looks quite serious about their threat. They even have a spear in their hands now. Scary. I lead the horse to the cart and tie them to it. I dab my eyes with my dirty shirt to get the tears and give them a wave goodbye with a gleeful smile. No response – shame.
I walk forward to a large door. It has a latch on it that has been unlocked. I push it open – damn its heavy. With the loud creak of a door that hasn’t been opened for years, a road unravels before me. Am almost completely pitch-black road is surrounded by a void of deep purple reveals itself before me. A deep purple glow surrounding a road of Dreg? I am all here for it. I skip, hop, and jump inside, dragging the horse with me. I should give her a name. It’s always more fun if something with a name gets butchered.
“Oh Mosline, this is not so bad. It’s a little dark but we will manage. Honestly, I think people are just afraid of the dark these days. It is a little embarrassing for them but also, I am most active in the dark so I can also see where they are coming from. I would fear me if I wasn’t… well, me. Tell me, what do you make of this place?”
BOOM
The door has closed behind us.
Mosline’s ears are going wild. She is looking around nervously and… is chewing its bit and drooling? I know she’s old but we have just started. Well, I suppose this makes sense. Mosline is uneasy. Animals tend to sense things humans cannot, right? Well, the hairs on the back of my neck are also sticking up so there must be some truth to whatever she is feeling. Good, I wouldn’t want this to be over and done without something exciting happening.
I look around at the purple thrumming around us. It moves and rolls with a wind that shouldn’t exist. The more I stare, the more it feels like something is moving within its folds, staring back and weighing us up. Oh, how exciting! I am ready for some action. I lift Savra up and point it to the sky.
“Come on then! Savra has been thirsty for quite a while and I have been bored for long enough. If you want to do something, do it!”
Nothing.
I wait.
Nothing.
There’s that feeling again – I am being watched.
Then nothing.
Nothing.
My eyes seem to have finally gotten used to the deep purple glow.
I stop.
Eyes… eyes… so many eyes. This is a tunnel of eyes.
Watching. Staring. Hungry. Haunting. Judging. Starving. Waiting. Salivating.
Fuck, just kill me already. This is my end and I want it to be glorious.