Author: Wallwalker
Title: A Fitting End
Fandom: League of Legends
Characters: Jhin, Draven
Challenge: Genre
Word Count: 300
Rating: Warning for violence, death, gore and blood. Not worksafe.
Summary: You might both be killers, but your performances are nothing alike.

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You watch the man who they call the Ultimate Executioner as he performs, although perhaps "performance" is too generous a term. He is a mere child next to you, spattering blood and death around him and calling it a masterpiece. Noxus is full of cheap street performers who treat death as a mere diversion, and that lout is the cheapest of them all; he screams and snuffs out lives so casually, wasting subjects with no regard for drama or timing.

He deserves to die. That much is obvious. He cheapens your art by his mere existence; you have already heard people comparing your work to his childish games, with no resemblance between the two besides the most superficial. But killing him would merely place him on another stage, and that is the last thing you’d want to give him.

Hm. Maybe there is one acceptable option. If you were to be one of his "victims" - in disguise, of course, unmasked and anonymous - you could finish him on his own stage, in front of his adoring fans. Seeing his own blood as it spilled on the rocks, knowing once and for all that he has been bested in a moment of glory? Yes, that would be a very satisfying conclusion to his banal career.

Of course, escaping from his personal guards would be difficult enough. And the crowds would not appreciate your work; they love him, for whatever odd reason, and they would swarm you, tear you apart. You wouldn’t be able to carry out such a plan without aid; you would need stagehands to distract the guards, to prepare your escape. And your employers require you to work alone. For the moment, at least, a fitting death for the fool is beyond even your considerable ability.

How tragic.