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by Drake
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #2225698
A woman attempts to finish a murky job.
The Killer’s Tears

She had the killer strapped to a chair. His mouth gagged, his dirty face watched impassively as she loaded an eyedropper with a clear fluid. She smirked a little as she approached him. He didn’t freak out like she was expecting. It seemed he had resigned himself to whatever fate would befall him. He expected death. She dropped the fluid into his eye and took a few steps back.

The effects were almost instantaneous. The man’s eyes began to tear up. His body heaving in huge torrents of emotional pain. This man was living the pain and emotional turmoil of every loved one of a person he had killed. This man had killed just 27 people and he felt like this? She imagined the mind numbing horror that awaited the primary target of her greatest poison. The Killer’s Tears.

She was hired by an unnamed client to poison an elf mercenary in Los Angeles. The sum was large and the challenge great. It took her a full six months to create just two drops of the poison. The first as a test, the second for her target. Her intelligence of the target put this elf’s kills into the hundreds already and that was just what she could dig up. It was likely that he was a war elf before the worlds merged and there were rumors that elves were immortal. His kill count could likely be in the thousands. The Killer’s Tears would effectively immobilize him forever.

She knew him first hand at this point because she had become a mixologist at the local Wellness Temple where he and his cronies hung out. He was extremely handsome and very old fashioned, but he never seemed to have eyes for her. The ladies had eyes for him however. She saw how women of all types checked him out. It was hard not to. Almost seven feet tall, powerfully built. She had developed a fun friendship with him however but held no sadness in her heart for what would transpire soon. A job was a job after all.

This poison was a blend of magic and science. The neuroscience of the poison finding its way to the empathetic part of the brain and the magic of tracking the soul energy of all of the kills via the target’s memory.

The night came quick and she was at her bar mixing away when the elf came in. “Hello, what new concoction have you created today?” he asked.
She had made it a habit to make new drinks and give samples out to her patrons.
“Today I have created my masterpiece. I call it The Killer’s Tears.” she said, presenting him with a clear drink in a rocks glass.
He snatched up the glass, gave a tiny toasting motion and tossed the drink back like he liked to do. She watched him eagerly to see the reaction of the poison. She knew that she'd have to make a hasty retreat and leave town immediately as this elf had powerful friends and they’d be looking for her.

He looked at the empty glass, then smiled.
“That’s so good. You’ve outdone yourself this time. Give me another and make some more, I want to give some to my friends.” he ordered, as he always did with his medieval ways.

Without missing a beat she began making batches of the drink which housed the dose of poison she had given him. She acted happy as she worked but inside she couldn’t believe that the elf didn’t show any signs of being troubled. It was as if he had never killed anyone at all?

The implications of this hit her hard. She had thought that The Killer’s Tears would lock on to the empathic part of his brain but she had never considered that he lacked any empathy. She’d seen him feel for animals who were abused or kidnapped children so she knew he had some form of empathy. How could her poison not work?

The elf greeted his friends with a large tray of drinks and they made merry all night long in the bar. All the while she fake smiled and texted the client that her plan would have to take longer than originally estimated. It didn’t matter. The client had time and wanted the job done. She started her next plan that night and readied herself to go back to the drawing board. The good news was she was a known quantity in his life and he didn’t suspect a thing.

The elf looked at his group of friends and felt a wave of euphoria that he had never experienced before. He wondered what was going on. Why did he feel so complete? So whole? He felt as if he was in the right place at the right moment in time and that every decision he had ever made was the right decision. He looked out at the city lights and felt like the things he had done helped create a better world. That he was as powerful as nature itself when it came to creating effective change in the world. It felt great to be in this place and everything felt right with the world.
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