Numbing It

Forget for a moment...

Nobody knows the thoughts that turn the wheels in my head. There are the dark aspects of this work that open doors that I've never imagined existed.

 

Existed...

 

I used to exist. When I walked among people, I used to be alive. Now I am merely a shell. The soul that walked among men - where has it gone now? I told you about the doors...

 

The doors.

 

Doors swing on hinges. Opening and closing. The soul is trapped in one of those doors.

 

Something unexplainable is happening. The addiction of taking a life is ever so consuming. There you have it. I am no longer a human being. They say it is human nature to be selfish. People are capable of extreme kindness and extreme cruelty. I do not fit either side, nor do I stand in the middle.

 

You see, an assassin is not kind - never will be. An assassin is not cruel, for cruelty is subjective. The Employer benefits from the murder of his enemies. I agree that what I do is for the benefit of the population of Lesallia. They do not need the scum that I kill.

 

How to numb the unexplainable feeling? Some resort to drugs. Others drink and gamble away their lives. What do I do?

 

I paint with dominant red and black colours. Red is the tint of blood. The blood that I spilled. Red is life cut short. Black is the darkness. It entraps me and strikes those I drive my dagger into. Darkness is the last colour one sees before death. Death itself is a black abyss.

 

People buy my paintings. They give it such different interpretations as I had in mind. They buy my paintings. How strange. They purchased blood and death on a canvas.