I whistled as I walked through the night. I had just completed a job, and now it was time to clean up. I guess you could count that as still having a job to do, but meal and dessert are separate. The existence of a dessert stomach proves that.

The night was pretty beautiful. Rain clothed everything with a warm, slick sheen. It also obscured everything, making it out as if you were alone in the world. Glances of light bounced off sheets of glass and pieces of metal. The more pressing matter was the weight of my luggage and the pressure on my legs. This would be a long walk.

Sure enough, it was a long walk. The field and forest were also beautiful, with stars twinkling in the sky. Star: 1 Pollution: 0. Or more like Star: 1 Pollution: 7883. Or Star: 1374239 Pollution: 7883? Pollution was a recent thing. Cosmically, at least. Anyways, I was done now. With a final heave, I flopped the body into the waters. It caught on the current.

As I followed its path downriver, I caught an interesting sight. Another guy, a murderer most likely, throwing his own body into the river. And quite experienced, too, judging by the neatness of his package and the lack of hesitation. Oh, he saw me.

We stared at each other for a few moments. I was observing whether he would attack me, and calculating if I should open my mouth …done.

“Hey. Why don’t we just… go each our own ways?”

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After observing his lack of reaction, I added, “No need to get messy.”

In response, he pulled a knife from his pants.

“Oh well.”

Guess I gotta kill this guy.

We crashed into each other a second later. His knife soared at my chin, which I countered by throwing a fistful of rocks at his face. He flinched, and the blade flew several inches short. I grabbed his collar before he could open his eyes again pushed, landing the both of us on the ground. Difference is, I came down on top of him with two fingers over his eyes.

“Aaaaaahhh!!”

I rolled off of him to escape the flailing knife. He ended up stabbing himself while I backed off a few steps and grabbed several more rocks. I launched them at him, which caused him to flail even harder and start to get up. I took that opportunity to land on his face.

Crunch!

I slipped off his face on a mixture of blood and rain. I landed on my back and immediately rolled off again, but not before he got a few inches on my leg. I kept my distance as I pelted him with rocks again and again, weaving in and out of the woods. The leg hurt like a bitch, but this was fun. It was like a ding-dong-ditching, with the joy of annoying someone and the thrill of danger combined. This was around a hundred times better.

The guy slowed and collapsed around the 15th barrage. I approached him after the 50th, when I was sure he was dead and was bored doing various pitching poses. The next step was to simply drag and drop his body into the river. Wait. Drag and drop.

The introspective walk back was quite fruitful. I realized a truth, and got a new job to booth: killers were much, much, more entertaining than common people, and I should probably kill more of them.