Contract the Clean Hand to do your dirty work. Raising the dead or removing the living, creating accidents or obscuring blame, pay your fee and she will perform the task to the letter, or beyond if she happens to favor you. See her dark and mysterious at the end of a hallway and deliver your money into her claws and receive a cryptic statement for your trouble. Never trust her, but never meet her in the presence of another, or she will take her due; and should you break the contract you will never see her coming.
Naja was beginning to grow tired of it all.
She stood in the rainforest with the scalpel in one hand and the prism in the other, staring down at a patch of wet red dirt, letting the sound of the waterfalls off to her right calm and center her, or trying to. Normally such a thing was child's play, but tonight she couldn't seem to let go of her worldly concerns. Her irritation, or perhaps even anger, at the position she always seemed to be in, and that it was after all one she had created for herself.
There was someone buried here, long enough ago that she could see no trace, though given that it never seemed to stop raining, that might only mean a day or two. All of the water seemed to concentrate itself at the tip of her tail, like it was trying to fight the poison before it could even be used, and that only made it harder to focus on her task.
Raise the dead. Raise the dead.
It was all anyone seemed to want anymore.