(Warning.. more horrible violence)
My meeting with the bosses of Zarista Clan was short and to the point. Dressed in a trenchcoat I introduced myself as Johan Cross and stated my desire to aid them against the Fat Sun Brotherhood in exchange for a controlling stake in their organisation.
Two of these bosses objected violently... if they had simply said 'no', or even been a bit less skilled in combat, they would probably have lived. Although it greatly pained me to have to do what I did, it was them or me and it certainly helped make the survivors more pliant.
Becoming a crimelord was the most fun I'd had since Page had died, and I soon found it was just the thing to distract me from the pain of his loss. I was not yet ready to reveal my true identity, although I had let slip that I was a corrupt 'cubi official in high favour with the Palace and chuckled silently to myself as I helped the Clan to break my own laws.
The Clan had not had a 'cubi in charge before, although one of the bosses was a demon, and my powers helped greatly. Disguised as a random citizen or hidden entirely I was able to eavesdrop and mind-read the members of the Fat Sun Brotherhood to learn their plans and weaknesses.
By this means I was able to isolate key members of the Brotherhood and trap them so that the Clan could remove them, and within a month the Brotherhood had surrendered - the operation entirely bloodless save for a few accidents and diehards who would not come quietly.
Now there was one organisation that controlled all crime throughout the entire city.. and I controlled it.
I had been tempted to wind up the Clan once their rivals had been absorbed into it or otherwise neutralised, but I saw now that it would simply have split into factions again and returned to its violent ways once more.
So I remained in charge of it, gently focusing it upon economic goals such as smuggling and the sale of contrabands, some of which I had outlawed myself to keep them occupied.
Gradually over the decades the underworld became my pawns.. hidden tools of government which everyone knew of yet remained unspoken. It doubled as the basis of my intelligence network and as a means to round up the political enemies of Johan Cross.
Few dared to openly speak against me, and my shameful descent into tyranny was well underway.
And so it happened that in the hundredth year since Page's death, I sat as usual, brooding upon my dark throne, disguised as a grey fox. My advisers arrived, bringing reports of the economy. My rule, strict though it was, had greatly increased the standard of living among the citizens of Ha'khun.
Alas, my agents had reported no further sightings of the demon pair responsible for Page's assassination, but I could wait. If nothing else, I knew how to wait.
Suddenly I felt something. I dismissed my advisers, requesting them to return in two hours, and turned to look at the right-hand door. Suddenly a young weasel burst through, brandishing a large sword. I had expected something like that, since I had felt strange emotions from an unfamiliar mind approaching. He had done a fine job of entering the castle by stealth but now the moment had come to reveal himself.
"Lord Cross, your evil reign must end!" he cried, and threw a dagger at me. I caught it with one of my tentacles, slicing the blade in two. Meanwhile, the guards had wrestled him to the ground and two of them held him down. A third, a lynx, raised his halberd to deliver a blow that would sever the unfortunate weasel's neck, his victim bracing himself for the end of his life.
"STOP!" I yelled. "Did I order you to kill him? No, I did not! Sergeant! Place your halberd on the ground. I shall deal with you later."
Nervously, the lynx placed his weapon on the floor at my feet. No sooner had he done so than his eyes rolled up into his head and he crumpled to the ground. "Place him in the corner," I directed, and then turned my attention to the two guards, a wildcat and a fox who were still holding the weasel to the ground.
"Bring him before me," I said. "I shall hear his grievances."
The weasel was shaking with fear, but despite his youth he maintained a proudly defiant expression on his face as he looked up at me. By careful arrangement of the lights controlled by a panel on my throne, only my face was dimly lit... the rest of my body a mere shadow.
"Who sent you?" I asked him.
"I shall not tell you," he said. "but know that your days are numbered. When the others hear of my death they shall send another.. and another! Even if only one of us succeeds where I have failed it will be a price worth dying for, to put a knife through your black heart and save the realm from your evil ways.. the secret executions.. all the souls you have devoured!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, in a faintly amused tone.
"We know the truth! We know that you murdered Lord Page to take his place, and since then the streets have been filled with terror.."
The words died on his lips as my eyes burned with rage. "Hear me, weasel," I snarled, and he took a step backwards. "You can never understand what Azrael meant to me. His death, and my failure to prevent it was the worst day in all six hundred years I have lived. In accusing me you insult his memory and his choice of successor. Yet I am not surprised since his true murderer was a weasel, like you!"
The would-be assassin blinked, unsure of himself, but recovered quickly.
"Be that as it may, since you claimed the throne, the streets have been filled with terror! Whole families have disappeared, never to be seen again!"
"Malcontents," I said. "Their presence was a destabilising factor. I cannot allow the minorities who oppose my rule to threaten the safety and prosperity of the majority."
"You had them all beheaded.. or shot! Men, women and children!" he screeched.
I smiled my trademark cynical smile, the hooded eyes.. amusement and deadly menace in equal proportion. "Executions are messy and inefficient," I said. "It's so much easier and just as effective if the population thinks that my opponents and their families have died by my hand."
"Hah!" he shrieked, and I could feel that although he was trying to muster a defiant laugh, he was close to tears. "Outspoken critics of your rule have been murdered! I hid and watched as my own father was dragged into a dark alleyway and shot by your guards as he pleaded for my life!
"And now I have come to slay you and avenge my father... but I failed and I shall gladly pay the price. Kill me now, so that we can again be together!"
I leaned towards him, my twisted smile evaporating as I digested his words.
"What did you just say..?"
Among the many implements of torture and death which I had devised during my madness was a semiautomatic pistol. I had taken the principle from one of our encyclopedias.
Although none of my books had shown a diagram of the mechanism, within ten years' time I had designed my own, taking clues from the shattered and rusting remains of the weapon the police chief had shot me with on Earth in 1968. I field-tested it on a feral deer, which my palace chef later roasted. Satisfied that it would serve, I built many more for my guards to use in defence of the realm.
As it turned out this proved a most popular measure. Firearms suddenly found their way into plays and novels. Young men of military age - far more than we could handle - were vying to join my elite marksmen. But although I had carefully screened them where I could, the risk of a marksman going rogue with their gun was a possibility I had long feared, and now it seemed that it had finally come to pass.
I looked down at the weasel, who stood there defiantly with his arms folded, waiting for me to condemn him.
"Young man," I said, "tell me about the guard who murdered your father."
As he spoke, I reached into his mind. The guard who had made the kill was a feline, the product of generations of interbreeding between different kinds of cat until his exact species was indistinct. But I saw him in the weasel's mind.
"I am sorry," I said, "this should never have happened." The young would-be assassin simply blinked. He had been expecting a death sentence, not sympathy.
"I shall find the one who did this and avenge your father myself.. rest assured of that. But now I must decide your fate.
It goes without saying that you will never see Ha'Khun again - it better suits my policy of social order through fear if my opponents are believed to be dead, and what you have learned tonight would jeopardise that if it was repeated.
The consequences of that would be horrific, so you too must be disappeared - into exile."
I was smiling my cynical smile again as the weasel stared at me in disbelief. "Yes, exile. There is a large island where you will meet most of the victims of my evil reign. As I cub I was taught to believe that life is sacred, although I don't suppose for a moment that you'll believe me until you are safely there. Just be thankful that Johan Cross can be merciful. A lesser ruler would have your head on a pole outside the castle by now."
The lynx guard in the corner had woken up and was nervously watching as I passed judgement on the weasel who had sought to kill me. I beckoned him towards me.
"Sergeant Ashley, I acknowledge that you sought to protect my life, but I am rather disappointed that you intended to behead my attacker when he posed no further threat. Pray do not do that again.
I shall let you off this time with a cut in this month's pay. But I warn you - if you do that again I shall not be anywhere near as forgiving.
"Now. This young weasel is to be exiled. Take him to the Gate, and do not forget to send his sword through first. He's going to need it. Now I must go - I have other business to attend to."
"Yes Milord," he said gratefully and led the weasel away.
In a dark alleyway, just as the weasel lad had described, I sat waiting, a shield of partial invisibility rendering me almost undetectable against the dim light. From this vantage point I saw four men.
Three of them were my guards, all feline - one of Page's traditions. Once I had been granted a share in the running of the city I had opened the post up to other species, but there was still a majority of cats in the service.
These guards were a bobcat, a puma and a feline of indistinct species, almost certainly the one who had committed the crimes. The other two dragged the struggling, pleading figure of a canine and pinned him to a wall as the cat stood before him.
The husky whimpered, staring down the barrel of the semiautomatic gun. "Please.." he said, one final time. A second later his body crumpled to the ground, his life spilt onto the wall behind him leaving a grim red stain.
Cursing myself for being too late to save him, I closed my eyes in silent prayer and just for a moment I could see the husky again, crouching to examine his own murdered corpse with a look of horror and bewilderment. When I opened my eyes again, he was gone.
"I must say, I am very, very disappointed.." I began in a chilly, almost bored tone, making myself visible again as I did so. The three guardsmen turned to see me perched on a low wall in the alleyway, sitting there cross-legged in red fox form, with my backwings and headwings visible.
The gun might have worked, but I had already hardened my skin as a precaution in case they tried anything foolish. Anyway, it was too late now since the cat holding the gun was rooted to the spot - partly out of fear, and partly because I had already invaded his mind and was preventing him from leaving.
I sighed. "I can see that I shall have to show you why what you have done is wrong."
Somehow his weapon was in my hand, a trick I had learned that was very useful for intimidating people. He stood there breathing heavily as I slowly levelled the gun right between his eyes, in exactly the way he had done to the unfortunate canid.
The hammer clicked upon an empty chamber, and I took the gun away again. The feline was trembling violently.
"Do you understand now?" I asked him. He nodded with relief.
"Good," I said, and with one swift motion put a bullet beneath his chin.
Now there were two red stains on the wall.
"There will be no more killings without my express consent," I said coldly, my eyes boring into the puma's. "Do I make myself clear?" The surviving pair nodded vigorously.
"Good. Remember, I can kill more than just your body." This threat needed no amplification.. the 'cubi ability to eat the souls of their victims was legendary.
"Now remove this mess, and ensure that the husky is given a decent funeral. And if any more of you get the urge to murder my citizens for kicks, bear in mind that I shall always be watching. Do not ever forget that."
I gestured at the corpse of the feline guard, and the others turned involuntarily to glance at it. By the time they turned back, I had vanished.
Life is sacred, but sometimes desecration can become necessary. They never saw the tears in my eyes at what I had done.