Note to Self: Edit BEFORE publishing.
The Salesman...
The night is as cold and hollow as my heart. I catch a whiff of the oncoming rain, a smell that is both repellent and welcome to Basin City, easing the harshness of the ofttimes intolerable heat. Maybe the rain will help wash away the blood that is sure to come soon. Men, cruel men, with hearts that have lost the basic tenets of humanity long ago, will come here and rape what beauty there is in this town. If I were capable of anger, I'd be mad. I'm not mad, but I am capable of imitating passion and longing when the situation calls for it..
It'll be a damn crime to ruin such perfection for what the nameless men call progress. I pull out a smoke, watch as I light up, and inhaled deeply, the smoke filled my lungs and I slowly let the smoke into the night air. I muse as the cloud of gray slowly dissapates into the darkness.
I make no secret of the fact that I admire women. I admire their beauty and grace, their flawless and soft skin. The way the warmth of their body soaks through my suit when I hold them. I like talking to them and seeing them melt from my words or caresses, to look in their eyes as I kill them. I am a killer and a gentleman, two 'concepts' that do not seem to fit together, but it works for me.
I can't help but notice the lovely girls, usually so vibrantly on display, are nowhere to be seen in Old Town. That can only mean one thing. They've already caught a whiff of the decaying stench of trouble and they've already taken measures to ride out the storm. Good.
I wasn't here to take on the girls. I was here to find Wendy, a golden goddess with a heart of stone. I was here to watch the life in those green eyes of hers fade to oblivion.