Amidst the fog that lightly hovered about the Great Cemetery, the assassin known as Carnal dwelt. Perched atop a tall, marble mausoleum, the maniacal killer gazed out over the vast fields of the "planted dead".

Carnal had donned her smooth, black leather armor and her
brass-loaded gloves. Her long sleek boots were armed with their lethal blades and nicely decorated her sculpted legs. A sinister black cloak hung on her shoulders. Blonde hair was pulled tightly back and then tied in place with a thin black garrote wire. Her madcap visage was painted in the usual alabaster, crimson, and ebon hues; allowing that sinister clownlike face to wickedly grin at the pale moon.

Tonight had been very very interesting indeed. Once more she was able to exchange pleasantries and oddly gay stares with a gaggle of Scathachian Judges....that damnable Isuelt and some bitch named Janet amongst them. By all that was dead and buried, she HATED those meddlesome c--ts! Why wouldn't they just fall over DEAD!?

Oh well! F--k them! After all, this night she was able to wave her face right in front of that putrid bastard Alain D'Mourir and his ripe little harlot "Cassie Cakes" with the soft, purple locks. Kya had told him that she wanted to help his agency and expressed how sorry she was about their "prior misunderstanding" during the messy Yates investigation.

HAHA HAHAHAHA! F--k that miserable little son of a bitch!!! The only thing she was sorry about was that she missed her chance back then to severe his interfering nose and shove it up his embalmed ass. Hopefully, the golden opportunity would present itself once more.

This was not the culmination of her joy, however. No. The macabre Baroness was SO giddy and happy because she had been face to face with her newest mark this eve.

Tah Dah!!!! BOO! It was that blue haired tart known as Jewell Ravenlock. The woman was a gorgeous, shapely specimen. Carnal had wanted to slit her throat open right then and there in the middle of that asinine inn. She would have even savored a hearty mixed concoction of red wine, white wine, warm milk, and aged whiskey while the Fae chickie gurgled in her own blood and crawled across the floor until she bled out and died like a miserable insect.

Patience little Carnal! Patience little Clown Princess!! Plenty of time....plenty of blood!!! YES YES YES!!!!

The demented assassin gazed into the palm of her tight, black glove. In that hand was a lovely, thick lock of the bluest hair she had ever seen. It was utterly magnificent. It was f--king glorious!!

So very slick how she talked the bitch into giving it to her. For her neice. HAH! What a f--ken joke. Her stupid neice drowned four years ago in Darthmoux. Fool.

Carnal absently stroked her prize like one would do a tender animal. Then, she brought the lock of hair to her painted nose in order to inhale its sickly sweet scent. It lightly tickled her cheek as she languidly ran it over the side of her face.

Her absent humming had begun, but now it slowly formulated into a happy, childlike poem which she sang aloud for the shadowy graveyard to hear:

"About which do I most care?
Why of course about hair....that long silky hair!

I do love dark, floppy raven hair,
Or vibrant locks of auburn in the air

Ohhh mops of silken baby hair,
Either blonde, red or purple it is so fair.

The balding peach fuzz is soft to the touch!
I love love hair so much much much

What is it with all that cherished hair?
That makes you double-back and stare?

You know what best steals my hues?
Is soft pretty hair of silken blues.

By Heaven's wings I must be mad...
But I am so happy, no I'm not sad!

I do so love this hair and for its prize I will,
Smash a head wide open and kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

The hideous laughter of the mad woman sharply carried thoughout the hazy night air and left a haunting echo over the entire boneyard.

The cemetery had a strong voice...and it was not entrenched in a drop of tangible sanity.

The homicidal Baroness stopped her happy, little musical poem as the sharp voice of this stranger sliced through the night's ?peaceful balance?. Carnal quickly glowered in the direction of this newcomer who had disturbed her laughing party! What a rude f--ken son of a bitch!

Her pink tongue jumped from her mouth in order to give a quick lick to the "sacred trophy" of Jewell?s blue hair before she placed her prize in the breast pocket of her sinister looking black overcoat.

The Clown Princess stood erect, and gleefully glared downwards at Lupinius Angelis. She tilted her head slowly to one side and allowed her black lips to spread widely into a maniacal, leering grin.

"Who am I!? Why am I laughing!? Well, that?s one hell of a set of questions ?Mister I-Roam-Around-The-Graveyard-Harassing-Gorgeous-Young-Dead-Women-Because-I-Am-Too-Damn-Scared-Of-My-Own-Shadow-To Go-And-Kill-Myself-With-A-Fork!? BOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! What a f--ked up name you have good sir!"

Carnal elegantly drew three of the pretty, pretty, pretty knives from the inside of her ebony coat and expertly began to flip them around through the air...back and forth from hand to hand like an absent minded juggler would do. Her alabaster painted face, trimmed with deep black and red lines, as well as her psychotic winning smile only served to augment the Baroness's sheer insanity.

"Why ask 'why' and why ask 'whom'??? I am....me! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sometimes I remember things one way, sometimes another. If I'm going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice."

The assassin sensed something morbidly odd about this stranger, a keen aura of the supernatural of which she had always been obsessed with. Quite frankly, it was that interest which prevented her from launching these three serried blades of silver right at his throat. Well, that and she had the hunch that he was an excellent aficionado of tomato gardening!

"Rhydin is FULL of menacing mysteries and enigmas my friend! For example, who in the name of blessed sanity is running around this city, on the formal coat tails of indigent demons, hacking people up in oh so many wonderful ways only to then blame it on those little mentally challenged Scathachian Priestesses????!! Trust me sir, I've met those priestesses and they are NOT in the least bit funny. They pass their time by harassing hapless, old, senior citizens and trying to prove that they are not tongue flipping lesbians. I mean...HAH...they don't even speak the affluent language of the often overlooked, divine cave elk! F--ken idiots!

Yeeeeet someone thinks that they are wooooorrrthy scapegoats. Personally, I would have chosen that oft injured, oft pregnant, half-dead dragon who limps in and out of that accursed tavern to pin things on, ya know? Make things f--ken interesting in the bland face of obscure monotony! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

As she continued on with her ludicrous babble, Carnal playfully threw back her golden pony tail as she juggled those cruel looking blades,"Another mystifying ambiguity would be why everyone calls this place 'a resting place for the dead', when the dead here seldom rest?!!! A play on words OR another word for 'play'??!!"

The deadly, clown-like assassin calmly leaned against the marble angelic memorial which stood atop the aged mausoleum. She nonchalantly held out her gloved right hand and, one at a time, caught the pearl-handled knives as they fell downwards from their synchronized dance. Carnal immediately locked eyes with her newfound gentleman caller as she malevolently cooed, "A dead and decomposing poet once said that the more answers you seek, the more questions you shall find. Tell me, can you answer any of these unimaginable and inconceivable queries, oh prince of mine? Come on now...I'm waiting. Boo!"

"Ooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhh!!! My oh my oh my oh my!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

The demented Baroness gracefully hopped down from the marbled crypt's roof and stood not less than six feet from this dark stranger who seemed to conjure forth some wicked weapon which radiated with a hellish glow.

Carnal pointed with an ebon gloved hand at the man's impressive sword. "Ohhhhhhh SO PRETTY!!!", she exclaimed with a madcap yet sinister undertone to her voice. "Sooo Mr. Sexy Graveyard Wandering Man, what cha' gonna do with that big old nasty pig sticker, hmmmmmm? Gonna hack up an innocent...pretty little thing like me??? Why would ya do that?? Because I like to express myself with happy, happy musical songs of glee? Because I playfully juggle my sweet little knives in a deserted cemetery??" Oooooooooor because you are a sick, twisted f-ck who enjoys cutting up sexy bitches like me? Is that it? Are you the bloodthirsty, mad butcher who has been terrorizing both the West End and the rest of this peaceful, f--cked up city?????! Well, well, well...shame on you!"

The assassin pulled her clown-painted lips into a smile. Without taking that disturbed gaze off of her newfound friend, the Baroness?s hands slowly replaced the deadly knives of silver back into her weapons belt which hung beneath the sleek cover of her dark attire. After looking Lupinius up and down one final time, Carnal's head slightly leaned to one side as her wide eyes remained a virtual tempest of insanity, violence, and an unpredictable mass of intentions. With the sheer drama of a court jester, the Clown Princess placed a broken pair of blue rimmed spectacles on her alabaster painted face. What a nice fit they made as they rested on her adorable nose! In any event, they looked much better on her than they did on that ugly bitch who she carved up a month ago.

There, in the frigid darkness of the Great Cemetery, the leather clad arms of the assassin folded over her chest as she continued to grin with the mouth of a rabid maniac. The tone of her childlike voice rang out with a cross between mockery and sheer lunacy, "Ya wouldn't hit a girl with glasses, would ya? Would ya?!"