The question was maybe a little personal, especially for soone who was fighting cancer or more like just waiting for it to take him away. Yeah, the question: what kept him going, what is life for him, what is the motivation, the aning of it all when he knows he is going to die.
And Joseph saw that flicker in the old man’s eyes as he thought about it, that sadness, that despair... but nothing more, just a flicker of it.
"I never had one, just drifted through life... they said, ’Have a big dream, fight for it...’ but my dreams stayed just dreams, and life beca nothing but a monotonous routine. Still, I kept going, because the only certainty in life is death. So I waited and waited to see when my ti would co... and, in the end, it was the doctors who told , maybe two months, maybe four, maybe I could live a full year, but never to reach sixty."
"So there wasn’t any motivation... you just waited for the end?" Joseph asked as he finally reached down to pet the dog.
"Yeah, all my life, I was just waiting." He looked at Joseph. "Waiting to be loved, waiting for everything... but in the end nothing ca, or well the painful truth that I did nothing for it, that was my life, boy. Waiting for death to call upon my na."
Sothing hit Joseph in that last sentence the old man said... it was just relatable.
"I think I did the sa, fuck I still doing it... just waiting for it." He leaned back. "People pushed to be sobody who I never wanted to be... and it just got so into my mind, that everything feels like a dull nothingness... and the only ti I feel excited is when I feel death coming."
Once again, he didn’t even think about what he was saying to a complete stranger, saying things that anyone else would have just stood up and walked away from.
"It’s strange." The old man whispered, still unbothered by it. "You... feel excited about death?"
This was the first ti Joseph thought about it, and he realized maybe it was better not to say such things out loud. "Yeah." He chuckled. "Maybe I was alone for so long that death beca my only partner... the partner to guide forward. The question is when this will end, when do I bloom like a flower?" He gazed at the old man. "But a flower that’s rotten from the beginning can’t bloom... how poetic I am, huh?" He laughed it off.
"Yeah, you’re a boy." The old man laughed too. "But if I understand you correctly, you only feel excitent toward death when it’s right in front of you... but what happens if you die suddenly, like from a heart attack or sothing?"
"Ohh now you caught off guard, mister." Yeah, he was genuinely caught off guard by it, he didn’t even think about that possibility.
"You don’t feel excitent for death, no, boy. You feel the excitent of being what you are, of causing suffering... of being Cassian." The old man said, looking straight into Joseph’s eyes. "I’ve been pointing a gun at you since I sat down, and you didn’t even notice that I’m only using my left hand."
"Huh... your life story now makes sense... Mister Hitman," Joseph said, not even a bit upset, shocked, or surprised by it... because he had known from the beginning that sothing was strange.
There were six benches next to them, and on one of them sat a beautiful woman... so why would an old man choose him rather than a gorgeous woman to sit next to?
The second thing was that he was wearing a trench coat when the temperature was so high that even a polo shirt would be unbearably hot, and this one was thanks to Joseph’s ear... he heard a click while they were talking. It wasn’t very loud or clear, but it ca from the man and resembled a safety click.
And of course, their lives were fucked up, both of their lives were too similar, without a purpose, without anything, and now it made sense why.
"It’s nice to et you, Joseph Cassian." He smirked. "You’re nothing like what they say, you know that, right?"
"Oh, what do they say?" Joseph asked back.
Lots of things: monster, demon, beast, but none of it is true." He still looked deep into his eyes. "In that cell, in the darkness, you found the purpose of yourself, you found the reality, the truth of who you are. Being alone for that long is the best ti to understand what your path is." He continued to stare at him. "You just found the aning of life... that is death. You are not a monster... just a man who shook hands with his inner self, maybe the bloodline of Cassians in that cell, and beca the last Cassian."
Silence as they just stared at each other and even the dog joined them, just sitting and looking at them.
Then Joseph laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I did voodoo too, even drew up wizard circles and runes, summoned the demons of the Cassians." He laughed more as he leaned down petting the dog once again, not even giving a fuck that his life in danger.
"You’re laughing, Joseph, but I was jailed for three years in complete darkness when I was 19. I talked, I heard my own voice telling things... and I found my own path. I beca a hitman, and up until this point, I have killed 210 people without hesitation, without a single thing bothering . But you were there for ten years, Joseph... that is unbelievable, that you ca out, being able to speak, to form sentences, to know yourself... you truly ventured to the deepest realm of yourself."
What he said was true to so extent... they both went through hell, both endured the deepest silence in their lives, trapped in a box of concrete, both of them experiencing what life truly ant, what it felt like to be completely alone with their own thoughts, to hear the voice speak.
But the one point that is true about both of them, the connection between them is... that both of them are insane.
"Yeah, well, we both experience sothing... though I doubt you point a weapon at to talk about these emotional things." Joseph smiled as leaned back. "So will I be the 211th? If yes, can you tell who sent you before you kill ?"
"No." He said, and he noticed it. Yeah the stories were true, he really did have that terrifying thing in his eyes, sothing words couldn’t describe... it felt like a demon staring at him... like he was the perfect Cassian to ever exist... the last one. "Actually, it’s 220 now, because I killed those who were sent to kill you before , so very unprofessional gangsters who wanted to gun you down. One of them even had a shotgun... they really intended to end you, Joseph."
Yeah, he killed them, the nine fuckers waiting in the nearby parking lot, ready when Joseph arrived at the park. They were prepared to unleash true hell, to do exactly what Joseph wanted them to: to sow chaos in people’s hearts, maybe even kill so of them. It would have been classified as a mass murder... or a terrorist attack.
But now, the master plan failed, because this old man killed them.
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