True to his word, he did not see them out but went back to look out the window .again!.

  'I wonder what great object has the pleasure of occupying your attention for this long' I couldn't help saying.

  'Come here,' he beaconed .

  The huge glass window stretched from the ceiling to the floor and thick enough to easily accommodate two people without obstructing either's field of vision. The window overlooked a graveyard, which i figured, was part of the estate.

  White tombs lined in meticulous rows. Some old, as was evident from the not-so-few cracks and faded inscriptions, many though, had not a hint of degradation in them, these were new.

  Judging by the overgrown nature of the shrubs in the yard,

  mantainance was clearly out of the charts, which meant that their appearance was not due to external care but beacause of time. They were all in similar condition, it was probable that not a year had passed following a massacre.

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  The number of new tombs would not be considered out-of-ordinary for a public graveyard, but for a single family's, it was too many.

  'May I ask what task Mr Viscontini has for me, for which I have been called upon today?' I asked, unfazed. 'Death' was never so atypical to me as it is to most people.

  'With your abilities, i expect you have an idea of it'. Obviously, he has to deny me a straightforward answer.

  he moved away from the window and took a seat at the nearest chair

  'I'm afraid it is not of my style to operate based on assumptions'. Some indignation was audible in my voice.

  'Still, let's hear it.' he crossed one leg over another, a smirk playing on his lips as if I was a jester putting up a show that really amused him.

  An average human has over 7 trillion nerves. It surprises me how this man always manages to get on every single one of mine without doing anything visibly enraging.

  I lifted my right index finger to point at what was outside the window and spoke as casually as possible, 'You want me to save you from joining them,' as casual as one can be while speaking so brazenly about such a sensitive topic.

  For a moment, I thought I had managed to make him lose his cool as a shadow came over his face, but before I could gloat over my momentary triumph, he regained his composure, infact he started laughing, golden eyes glinting in the lamp light. (And here I thought I was eccentric).

  'Thats one way of putting it, you're almost there' he blurted out between bouts of laughter.

  '....'

  'Right, it happened about eight years ago...ehh..not exactly, I'll tell you from the very beginning' he stood up and and placed himself between me and the window in the manner of a historian at a museum, explaining to the less informed.

  'The story begins with my pleasure-driven and somewhat deranged great grandfather Valeoni Viscontini'