Man1. "Hey."
Man2. "Hey man."
Man1."Hot day, eh?"
Man2."Yeah. I must have lost 20 litters of sweat today."
Man1."Heh, you do seem to have lost half your weight."
They had moved up to casual exageration. But I withstood it, and waited. If I was right they would not stay so low. These were no simple gossipers.
Man1. "Anyhow. I was down town. I heared the government is about to default."
Man2. "Really? I will have to tell it to my people. Investing here would be bad then."
There it was. I had it on tape. No reason to hide any more. As the second man was reaching for his mobile phone, I knew the rumor had infected him. He was either going to call, or, worse, tweet about this. I fell from the balcony I was standing on. His finger never reached the green "tweet" button, as I severed his hand from his body. The first man was about to turn and leave, that empty stare of a used vessel upon his eyes, retreating back to his home, not knowing of the infection it had spread. He stared uncomprehensively at the hand laying on the floor, at the fountain of blood errupting from the second man's bloody stump, at the double headed axe in my hands. These were the last images he got. The other man let go of his stump and tried to reach his phone, and complete his tweeting before he met his doom. I was faster.
The neon light still flickered around me. The air was still dry, albeit the floor was soaked with blood. I knew the hunt for rumors, was still begining.
-When I was twelve, my parrents put their economies where the government had spread rumors they needed to: in the stock market. These Rumors of money led us to poverty and to the eventual death of father, and the hospitalisation of my mother in an asylum. I then took it upon myself to train my brain to resist this verbal infection of the brain. I studied hard, day and night, only taking time away to visit my now deranged mother. Once immune to the Rumors, I chose to try and ignore this tragic past. I did this for the sake of my mother's demand on the sole moment of clarity she had in 7 years. I started working, integrating myself as best as I could in a ill-faring society. Everyone had the virus to a lesser extent. But I ignored it. And for a while, I thought I was happy.
The neon light still flickered around me. The air was still dry, albeit the floor was soaked with blood. I knew the hunt for rumors, was still begining.
-When I was twelve, my parrents put their economies where the government had spread rumors they needed to: in the stock market. These Rumors of money led us to poverty and to the eventual death of father, and the hospitalisation of my mother in an asylum. I then took it upon myself to train my brain to resist this verbal infection of the brain. I studied hard, day and night, only taking time away to visit my now deranged mother. Once immune to the Rumors, I chose to try and ignore this tragic past. I did this for the sake of my mother's demand on the sole moment of clarity she had in 7 years. I started working, integrating myself as best as I could in a ill-faring society. Everyone had the virus to a lesser extent. But I ignored it. And for a while, I thought I was happy.
Enter 2010. The rumors hit again. They hit on my country's economy. Again. Spreads rose, and budget cuts started again. And when you cut budgets, you first take from the defenceless. The Asylum workers where my mother was kept were fired. Durring her transfer to another mental institution, she suffered withdrawal from her pills and died. That was one more people that Rumors had taken from me. Well. I have nothing more to loose any more. Since then I realised my true calling. Revenge. I became: THE RUMOR KILLER!
State Accountant by day, Masked vigilante with a double headed axe in the Night. Beheading trolls on the net by day, economic gossipers by night. This message goes to you Rumors. The game is On.
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I hope you enjoyed this character. Rumor has it that - oh no, please please don't arrrghjkslcv w kl
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