The Tradition

Chapter 1 Introduction to The Tradition

It's lonely being a killer.

 You know that? One second you're with someone, they're very much alive, and the next you're alone. The party's over. You ain't ever seen someone alive till right before you're killing 'em.

Back when we was together, me, Henty, and Yg had a tradition – not exactly a joke, but a ritual. We'd see what kind of foolishness folks would say right before we gutted 'em. At first, it's everything you expect: a lot of cussing, a lot of fussing. But after a while, you start hearing different things. We caught an Australian dead to rights once. Right before he died, he said, calm as can be,

"That's alright, mate."

We laughed about that for a long time. I still do sometimes. It's amazing what the brain produces in a situation like that.

I've seen it all: people laughing or crying. Some want to sell out their friends; others won't say a damned thing. I noticed women tend to go silent – not all, though. One lady I'll never forget kept telling us she loved us, crying and sobbing, saying we didn't have to kill her. What she didn't understand was that it didn't matter what they said. We didn't care. As long as they said something.

That was the joke.
That was the tradition.