Velli

“Relationship trouble?” Mogvaz wheezes like an asthmatic child who needs an inhaler.

I pull my gun from the empty pile of clothes and stomp toward Mogvaz. I won’t slip this time. I raise my bare feet and slam them into his head then again for good measure. It doesn’t seem to hurt him, which infuriates me. The blood from the gashes Dream gave him stains my feet, and I clean them on the ice. The gun’s heavy in my hand.

“You don’t have to do this,” Mogvaz moans.

I spit on his face, and yet he still speaks.

“I would like to submit some advice to you.” My glob of spit falls down his face as he speaks. “Don’t start killing people. It’s a dangerous path to take. Mercy has more power.”

I get on one knee and place the gun on his temple. “Are you serious?” I don’t hide the disbelief in my voice.

“Absolutely, I—”

“You’re not getting a redemption arc. I. Don’t. Need. Advice. From you.” I poke him in the head with my pistol with every word.

He blinks at every poke. Big Mogvaz is scared to die. His eyes wobble in his head, searching for another answer in the room. “But—”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Shut up. You have one good use for me.” I poke the gun around his mouth. “Tell me what room Prometheus is in.”

He swallows. “That’s valuable information. Very valuable, and I see you are a man who appreciates value, so any way I can help you—”

“Enough!” I push the gun into his mouth until it hits the top.

His jaw opens against his will as he makes an “ah, ah” sound. He’s too weak in this temperature, as I calculated. He doesn’t even have the strength to bite off my arm. Regardless, I pull the pistol back out. Wet and sticky. Still works.

“Mr.—uh—Velli, trust is important,” he says. “I have but one request. Will you enter a Cognomen Oath with me? In my line of work, we enter those to ensure that what you say is true. Then, if you lie, you drop dead. Boom, just like that. It’s weird how that came about, isn’t it? They’re holy things, I believe. Because the truth is so powerful. Just after the Rain, we all had the ability to enter these oaths. It just simplifies—”

“It doesn’t seem advantageous to me.”

“But it’s fair.”

“Life’s not fair.”

“Well, then, why would I help you? You could just kill me after.”

“You’re afraid of what’s on the other side, so you’ll stay alive as long as possible.”

He stares at the barrel of the gun to a comical extent. “Room 624,” he mumbles.

“This hotel?”

“Yes.”

“Deadmansaywhat?” I say so fast there’s no way he can understand me.

“What?” He opens his mouth in confused shock.

I stick my gun against the back of his throat. Four shots inside his mouth, that’s what it takes to kill him. His head splits from his body. I don’t feel bad about it, either. I thought I would. It wasn’t fun. It’s nothing. It’s simple. It’s math. Bullets plus throat equals death.

It was something, though. It felt like I took a picture and stamped it on my brain.

Blood and brain spray on Dream’s jacket, which she left by mistake.

Will this matter? Am I a different person because I killed a man?

Footsteps.