Moros woke up the happiest he had ever been. His dreams were replaying all the kills he had done that day in vivid detail. The proudest he was of kill 621.
…the angle, the depth of the cut, the fluid motion, that beautiful arc of the blood, the quickness of death, the lost expression on its face, the shine of the blade in the light, the weightlessness in his arm, the ease of it all, the ugly goblin now turned beatiful.
This scene was perfect. He could not have made it any better, even if he were to try to do so. In many years, he would tell his children of this kill and remember every last detail of it.
Of course, that implied that Moros found a wife who wanted to have kids with him and that he broke out of the prison.
But, he did not dwell too deeply on this scenario. For now, all he wanted to do was live each day like it was his last and make more memories that last for a lifetime.
Later that day, he would have a lovely reunion with goblins date and his trusted knife…and as the gentleman he was, he would not let them wait for too long.
Should he slash their throats, enjoying their quick, gurgling end?
Pierce their eyes, taking in that look of shock and helplessness after taking their sight and then their life?
Stab their hearts, feeling the strong beating hard stop at the tip of his knife?
Gut them, watching their insides spill out, with the goblins desperately trying to hold them in?
Decapitate them, feeling happy at the slow process of seeing a goblin lose its head
Skin them, working with slow, careful precision to show just how ugly they were on the inside.
Break their bones, hearing that satisfying juicy crunch of bones crunching and that body collapsing,
Suffocate them, sensing the life drain out beneath those fingers of his.
Bludgeon them, embracing the death of a goblin brain, punch after punch.
But, oh he was getting ahead of himself. Good things all take their time, wasting his time by fantasising about the act itself would only take away from the satisfaction he would feel when actually committing to it.
So, he followed his other dream and decided to learn more from the experts present. He wanted to learn how to better swindle rich people of their money. He might be an expert in regard to dungeon activity.
Yet, these people were the real deal. Moros had not talked to them about the business, but as a young master of the scamming industry, he could confirm these people were the real deal.
Putting on his comfy clothes, a soft velvet jumpsuit with his designation on it.
Stepping into these made Moros feel like being royalty─or like wearing clothes that were meant for people to wear.
The ones he used to wear before were for people you did not like. The kind of clothing you gave to someone that should know that you hate them and want to feel bad. The 'I will dance on your grave kind of hatred'.
This was paradise and nobody could convince him otherwise. Everything that he did and got here were things that he never thought could coexist in the same place.
No Ballas, no annoying family asking for favours, no screaming rich kids, no childhood friend that was allergic to dressing appropriately for a winter. Moros was a free man, in this prison, free to pursue his lifelong hobbies.
Had someone told him before about such a miraculous place existing, Moros would have laughed in his face.
As he discussed with his cell-mates time passed faster and faster. Games were played, scamming tactics discussed and friendship for life were made in these hours.
The cafeteria offered great food yet again and the hours flew on by. Moros could barely contain himself, the anticipation of the work causing his heart to beat faster and faster.
When the siren for work finally came, all prisoners ran to their workplace, giggling like small children. But before Moros could enter the space as the very first…a broad, muscular guard blocked his way.
The mean-looking guard scanned the horde of prisoners and did a quick headcount. Seeing the results, he clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Damn, we lost another 5," he muttered under his breath.
Gathering his bearings again, he tried his best not to let his dissatisfaction show on his face. Though with a smile on his face, it looked more like he needed to visit the toilet, really, really bad.
Taking a deep breath, he prepared for the usual feeding frenzy.
"ATTENTION LADIES!"
"You know the drill, only take one and then go to your place. Then eat your little happy pill and do a good job. Then you will get more of them."
He held up a large open bottle filled to the top with blue pills and Moros was the first one in row to get these pills.
Happy pills sounded a bit strange, but it had 'happy' in its name…so, it could only be great. Why would these people lie to them and give them pills that did not make them happy?
They had given so much already, he was just doubting their goodwill at this point.
"Guard, guard…X2341N is convulsing on the floor."
"Shit," the guard ran to the convulsing inmate and tried to remove the distraction from the scene.
He left the big bottle of pills behind on the floor.
Moros looked around, all eyes were pinned on the guy involuntarily cosplaying as a salt shaker on the floor and just grabbed a handful of happy pills. 1,2,3 like 20 or so and casually went to his place.
Ya know, one can never be too happy. If he could do an even better job with one happy pill, what would happen if he took all of them?
Would he not be the happiest, most productive goblin killer?
After every other inmate had taken to their place, the guard noticed the empty bottle. Though he thought not much of it. His thoughts were on discreetly removing the not-so-shaky inmate anymore with the closest body bag.
"LADIES, GET TO WORKING. I WILL BE RIGHT BACK TO WATCH YOUR BEAUTIFUL BEHINDS." with these lovely parting words the murder festival began.
All the people that received their happy pills gladly took them…only a few people around Moros began to scratch their skin, their bodies beginning to sweat profusely.
Not that Moros noticed such a detail, he was trying to discreetly swallow all 20 pills that he had borrowed from the bottle. It was a job easier said than done. Moros fostered a 300 IQ, genius strategy to do so unnoticed.
"OOOPS!"
he said out loud and dropped his knife to the floor. Casually bending over to pick up the knife, he just shoved all the pills in and swallowed as quickly as he could.
He had to do a good job to give back to these good, good people.
The happy pills worked instantly, Moros had never felt such pure concentrated happiness in a bottle, time seemed to have slowed down tremendously. The goblin before him threw him seductive glances.
"Oh, sweetie…can you penetrate me with that big fat, veiny knife of yours."
Moros softly pressed the knife on its throat and it gasped for air, a moan escaped its lips. Time crawled forwards as the soft impact on the neck of the goblin caused its head to be completely removed from its body.
Sailing through the air, Moros could hear it whisper seductively in the air.
"No one has done me so rough so far, MORE DADDY."
The head flew through the air, like a beautiful bird without wings and casually struck another inmate, knocking him out cold in the process.
Moros turned around in slow motion, as another sultry voice demanded his attention.
On another table, a goblin gave him those bedroom eyes.
"Oh, I need some big, strong man hands to hold me," the goblin was panting frantically, it clearly wanted Moros. Every man always dreamt about being this desired.
With as little strength as he could muster, his hands moved to its throat─each hand gently resting at the side of his neck. With a slight squeeze he held the goblin.
Its head exploded in a gory fountain from all the love it had received from Moros' caring hands. Brain matter spread from the floor to the ceiling and all around the table in like a 50-metre radius.
From the ceiling, he heard an audible voice that reminded him of someone…a voice from his early childhood days.
"I am proud of you son! Continue to make Mommy proud"
…must have been his brother. Sometimes, when Moros was too happy, he did not hear all too well, but his brother was proud of him!
This was the biggest, bestest, superest day of his whole life…
Right now, he felt like he was on top of the world, like he could do everything that he put his mind to. But, he needed to do a good job, he needed to make these goblins proud.