murder [Theme] Page 3

- You want revenge do?
- It inhibits the oath. It is impossible to kill, even for the sake of their salvation. But for her, ready to kill me.
- I.
And I, my lady.

This was cute... until I had taken your hairy head!

- You will be responsible for my death, you bastard!
- No. I made people up, blame should be 340, not me.

You have a self-sharpening knife, and your cellmate was gone, when you were on the level where you do not reach the food, and you don't look like starving a month. The conclusion is obvious.

Your death will not bring back the dead, but to ease my burden.

Your blood will wash away the rust.

We did what had to be done.
- Including the murder of the Ambassador Morton, right?
- We keep the balance. If the world leans to one side, we pull it into another.
Daughter of Morton was also in the car.
- Well, you yourself, what rules hold you back?
- Good and evil, that's what!

Bless father, for I have sinned.
- Have we met?
- How do I know? So you need to do to atone for the murder? To Read "Ave Maria"?
- I don't know, Charles. How do you atone for sins?
- You know me. God made a deal: I'm not asking why He is suffering bastards, like you, and he guides my hand.
- So you're the hand of God? And what do you want?
- First to look you in the eye and say that I know everything.

I need to know who ordered Edward Morton, my friend, the American Ambassador in Macedonia fifteen years ago. I want to know who hired you. I need names.
- Is not necessary. Then you will become me. You'll have to hide until the end of his days.
You know, I'll take my chances.

They say that a centaur's road is paved with the corpses of the fallen. And for a centaur named has set out this path was really long. Many foreigners mistakenly take the four-legged warriors of the clans of druud, a gifted for the simple-minded thugs. Their language has no written form, the culture is poor on graphic symbols; in music there is no clear structure, and religion of strict rules and dogmas. For centaurs the best expression of their thoughts and feelings is a battle. And if murder among the centaurs considered art, the most talented of their creators - Bradden. His invincible power he raised up the land Omeka, an ancient arena where centaur clans have for millennia gathered to perform their gladiatorial ceremony. And the further spread his fame, the more spectators from all over the world come to see the great centaur in action. Always going to the arena first and the last to leave, he created masterpieces in every spray of blood, each stroke of the bloodied blade. Such is the poetry of blood on steel, complex patterns across the pale Sands of the massacre. Won has set out one soldier after another until, as the arena exploded with cries of his name, and he did not become the only, the incomparable champion. He was awarded the great belt Omeka, but the victory felt only emptiness. What is a warrior without a challenge? The great centaur galloped out of omexe that day with a new goal. For his people has set out is the greatest warrior who stepped into the arena. Now aims has set out to prove that he is the greatest warrior in all of history.

Murders you desecrate the memory of his daughter and force others to experience their own pain.

- It was mercy? Or that he certainly died?
- ...

- Did you differ from me? How many people have you killed, protecting others? Yes, those people you killed deserved to die and I think you're talking to yourself right? But who decides who lives and who dies?
Someone who has a gun anymore!
- Then we're stuck.

Not dead then, dead now. But someone will have to. And the last thing they will see is my smile. Or laser beam. And who is a stray bullet will catch - who are to blame.