Well, all thing considered, this fiesta wasn't too bad. All the Mexican food I could pig out on, and tasty Mexican beer in spades? Kick-ass!
But...
I did not forget the reason I came here, the mission I was assigned.
A Killer was on the loose, and his destination had been found. My services were requested. Of course, I thought the whole thing was a joke at first. I mean, a murderer at the festival of the undead? What was the point in that?!
Well, to add to the zombies, I suppose. To distract myself, and to draw attention away from myself, I figured I'd let loose for a bit and have a bit of fun. Well, as much fun as you can have in a land where day never comes and corpses lie on the street to rot. Drink some beer, eat some food, let loose my hottest samba moves...the usual stuff.
And, of course, abide and wait until my chance arrived.
I saw somebody moving away from the hullabaloo of swinging zombies and hot salsa beats. I decided to follow the figure.
I'm not going to lie, my beer consumption had left me quite drunk. I did play it up a bit, though, for the sake of observing without seeming too keen. Keeping an eye out, I drunkenly wobbled after the figure.
He (or she, I don't remember too clearly) sat down under a tree, its' crown as black as the sky above us. I peeked around the tree and waved.
"Hey there,
amigo!" I said. "We're not supposed to quite partying 'til dawn, you know? Though day never comes here..."
No response. To ease the atmosphere, I tried a joke:
"After all, it's called a
fiesta, not a
siesta. Right?" Hic.
Still no response. It seemed that my joke had fallen flat. I cleared my throat.
"Anyway, we shouldn't be alone here, what with the-" I started.
"Do you think that I am stupid?"
The sharpness of the voice startled me while the calmness deeply unsettled me.
"Lay it off." The figure continued. "I know you're not as drunk as you claim to be. I also know why you have come here."
I stared at the figure for a while in stunned silence.
"...Was I really
that transparent?" I asked.
The figure nodded. I wrinkled my forehead and sighed.
"Well, so my secret's out, then." I said. "Well, in that case, would you mind sharing some information that would make my job easier?"
"How callous of you." The figure said, in a calm but angry tone. "All this loss of life, and you dare call it a job..."
"Miss Killer."
I was shocked. I thought that the figure had found out my identity, and here I was, being mistaken for the murderer! Things had already taken a sharp turn straight to Hell, and now they were speeding up. I was almost to stunned to respond.
"...What? You think I'm...No, I...That is..." I stammered.
"Don't waste your breath." The figure said, brandishing a knife. "You're too calm about all of this. Too carefree. And with a stupid hat like that and those stupidly large feet of yours, it can only be you. You've been voted for. No use trying to escape."
I look behind me. The few of us who were still left were quickly approaching. Even if I would've wanted to flee, it wouldn't have mattered. There was nowhere to go.
I sighed deeply.
"The voice of the people can be awfully cruel sometimes." I said. "And now I'm being executed..."
"...Well, on the plus side, I'll probably save you about thirty seconds."
The figure gave me a suspicious look.
"...What do you mean?" It said.
I smiled cheerfully at it.
"Well, you were kinda right. I did come here to kill somebody. But it seems that I was wrong about that somesody..."
"So I seem to have swallowed the cyanide pill prematurely~"
The silence struck down on everybody present, as my words sunk into their minds.
And, right on cue, the cyanide took effect.
Here's a fun fact; Nothing sobers you up faster than cyanide poisoning. Which sucks and you shouldn't try it, because you're also going to die. As I was coughing, almost puking, blood, I solemly thought about how useless I was in the end. No leads, no clues, no information. Nothing. I should've been able to do more, to protect the rest of them. And now they were possibly doomed.
My employers had told me that I'd die, but I'd at least die heroically. Bullshit. But hell, that didn't matter anymore; I was doomed to die from the start.
As the distant samba music, and the world, faded...I thought to myself one final thought:
Suicide missions fucking suck!
[HEADING=3]ARBITER: MISSION FAILED[/HEADING]
