An Introduction
60 kilometers north east of Melbourne is Whittlesea City. To the east of Whittlesea City is an abandoned sanatorium. The buildings are in shambles and the grounds are unkept. The former owner died without leaving any heirs. So the Municipal of Whittlesea ended up with the sanatorium and didn’t want to keep running it. The patients was left to the own devices. Those that had wealthy families were moved to other facilities. The rest kept living at the sanatorium as well as they could. That didn’t go well. Most were killed by the other inhabitants, some starved and the rest eventually fled the place. The story in the surrounding villages is the sanatorium is haunted. The sign at the entrance says “The Murdoch Family Sanatorium”.
That is the place I call home. I discovered it three years ago, when i had some time of because the demand for my services was low. My time was spent hiking around Melbourne looking for hiding places and possible safe houses. It was perfect for me secluded and full of hiding places.
When I sleep the only thing different from then to now is that the doors are unlocked. The screams of my victims i my head mixes with the screams of the inhabitants. That is my lullaby when I am home. It fits me like a glove reminds my of the negative impact I have on people’s lives. It keeps me sane, else my work would have consumed me. My last humanity would have disappeared, the last tread cut. Nobody is innocent, that is what I tell myself on my bad days. Hopefully it will keep the demons at bay.
The old term for my work is gun for hire. Like Australia I am neutral in the struggle between the Roman Catholic Church and Islam. They both hire me for various tasks many are too small, because my fee is large, but none are too large. Neither faith allures me because I have witnessed the worst of both. Born in Nazareth, the same city as Josef, after The Great Ceasefire my childhood has been shaped by fear and anxiety. The lands of the Israelites has been a demilitarized zone since The Great Ceasefire. The absence of guns and the fear of each other has kept The Faith out of the land. That has prevented any functioning institutions from being created. There was no police or any help for anybody. So the lands was ruled by various warlords ever changing always raping, pillaging and killing. This was the world I grew up in The Holy Land.
I can trace my line back to David. I keep that to myself. Without any trouble I can pass for both a European and an Arab, that has its perks in my line of work.
