Let me say something before we start. Questions such as "who are you?", "who sent you?" or "how did you find me?" are a costume for those unfortunate clients seeking forgiveness for their acts. She's used to it, though, being questioned with mere idiocies as if asking were to actually spare their useless lives.
So, what matters is the show, right? Why bother with the previous act in which the lunatics make their appearance and the frightened victims begin crying for help? Surprised because they weren't expecting this at all, never in their pathetic minds they could have thought that the end of their days was closer to them than they even believed. Therefore, begging while kneeling against the floor, the fat man was appealing for his life. He had this horrible white hair that seemed false in all ways possible, with a pony tail. His clothes, those of a "noble", consisted in some flannel black shoes, high white socks, blue adjusted pants, same color as his ridiculous shirt underneath the red shawl. The room was elegant and fancy, with a small lounge which was half wrecked due to the chaotic scenery taking place. A blue carpet sheathed the whole floor, white pale walls with lots of horrible pictures and paintings, finally an intact and golden candelabrum illuminating the room. Besides the nice decoration, two slaughtered bodies were laying in the floor, specifically behind the man begging on his knees.
-Old man.- She spoke, standing in front of the prude hypocrite. -You need to learn your manners. For a noble, you're such a lame uneducated lad.- She mocked. The harlequin was not only bragging to speak with english courtesy but also with that annoying accent that bastards like him would make everyday. The man begged, of course, "please forgive me!!", he was terrified after seeing a cute jester quickly murdering his idiot servants. "I'll do anything!!"
-Anything...- Lin said as she walked to her right where a painting of a half-naked woman only covered with a blue blanket, was hanging on the wall. -Anything for a pretty girl like moi, you say?- Her smile began twisting into something macabre. Her eyes seemed to be lit with dark flames while staring viciously at the picture in front of her. -You stinking rat...- She mumbled while raising her hand to touch the border of the painting. And when the man realized what she was about to do, he not only cried for help and stood up, but he also yelled in terror while the girly jester's hand spread a blackened flame across the false piece of art of nudity.
-Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!- She began rapidly moving from one place to another, jumping, dancing, almost as if disappearing from time to time, firing all this noble's crappy choices of decoration. She was having so much fun while doing this and seeing the man horrified could not bring any more joy to her act. Her laughter did sound like a vile witch's one, but also tender and mischevious since she began giggling over and over again. The flames governed the entire room after burning all paintings, passing onto the walls, the roof and even lighting the candelabrum. -You should have minded your manners, noble trash! You should have payed your debt! Hahahahahaha ~ -
-Noooooooooooooooooo!! Please stooooooooooop!- He yelled, but she did not comply to his pathetic appealing. Between the orange flames of hell, the smoke gathering everywhere and spreading unknown toxicity, the shadowy figure of the woman appeared walking slowly towards him. Her creepy stance could be reflected through the man's green eyes submerged in horror while his executioner approached. He babbled about something unaudible until she stopped before him. -Have a pleasant evening... Ricardo...- And then, as her twisted smile began to fade away into the darkness, she slowly vanished between the everlasting flames consuming every piece and corner of the room.
The frightened noble could never hear the menaces of his superiors, the demands of his contracts and costumers, the yelling of the people, anymore. But the chaos struck fear down to his heart while all he could ever listen before getting trapped by something tricky, was the fathom of his own horrified screaming.
The city at night was probably the only witness of those cloudy riots of darkened smoke coming out of the windows of one mansion nearest to the slums, and the gypsy sellers taking down their stands as they all saw the firing taking place inside the household of lies, corruption and treachery of a renowned senile fool.
