Author's Notes

Not sure which category to put this under, but I wanted to set it out there. This is one of the many stories I have no one to share with. It's based in a sort of 'modernized' Great Depression era. Like, it's all dark and smokey, dirty and rundown buildings, violence and such. Y'know, the perfect setting for a mafia film.

Anywho, enjoy!

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Prologue

A mass of people were walking the streets, going from here to there. The government had been trying to keep things under control, but as of late it's grip has become loose. Criminals and gangsters roam the city. Children whose parents did not want are wailing on the curbs, cold and afraid.

One figure walked down the alleyways, wearing a black cloak and fedora. A cigarette hung from his lips, leaving a faint blue trail. In his right hand he held a small briefcase, and in the other a crumpled note. Walking up to a run-down house, he knocked three times. Then twice more, softly. The door opened, and the man walked in.

He sat down on a couch, and extended the note towards the elder who opened the door. "I assume this was meant for me?" He spoke in a calm and gruff voice. The other man, gray hair coming out of his head, nodded warily. "I could have my bouncers deal with this, unless you want me to do it personally." The man cleared his throat and spoke in a nervous voice.

"I... would like it to be you. I've heard that you can be very persuasive, and it's not as if I want him dead. Just... keep him safe. His parents were unforgivable assholes who left him to rot. But all I want is to protect the boy."

The cloaked man nodded, and stood up. "I can do that. Will he be under your custody or mine?" The elder looked at the floor. "I have neither the energy or space for a child, much less a young man. He will be under your custody, if that is alright." The cloaked man nodded, and opened the suitcase. The inside was empty, covered in crimson silk.

"Two thousand dollars. Not more, not less." The old man nodded, and left to the kitchen. The cloaked person stood up and examined the room, wondering how such a person could pay off this expensive task. It was a depressing green, with a small table and couch. An empty fireplace stood against the wall, pictures on the brick shelf.

The elder returned with the cash and carefully placed it in the briefcase. "There. Two thousand dollars. Please, be gentle with him." The cloaked man closed the case and picked it up. He began to open the door before he answered.

"Don't worry. He will be safe".

And with that, he left the sad little house and returned to the alleyways.

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Chapter one: smoke and gunfire.

Jackson had been walking the streets for a while. His parents had kicked him out one day, and now all he did was wander around. He wasn't used to the loneliness, or the pungent smells of the streets.

He was used to the irritability of some people, though.

Jack wasn't violent, or brave. He was mostly confused. Not even that afraid.

Just... new to this lifestyle, so to speak. He looked at everything with wide eyes. His parents had never let him out, not even to their back yard. So, like a small child, he found everything interesting and new.

He wandered into an alley, attracted my the meow of a cat. Looking around, he noticed that the cat was cleaning itself on top of a dumpster. Jack walked up to it, and the cat stopped. They both looked at each other for a while, before the cat stood up and walked away.

Jack didn't follow it, thinking that it might want some personal space, and walked deeper into the alley. There was something at the end, like a different shade of black that stood out as a silhouette. Then, the shape moved and took a step towards him. It was a man, wearing a dark cloak and fedora, as well as a sort of black handkerchief covering his mouth.

"Good afternoon, Jackson" the boy opened his mouth in awe, eyes wide and surprised. The cloaked man spoke again with a muffled voice. "I am not here to hurt you. I was tasked with caring for you until you are of age. Follow me, if you please." Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.

Jack followed him after a few seconds, trailing behind the strange man. He asked a in small and uncertain voice; "where, um... where are we going?" The cloaked man chuckled but did not respond. They exited the alley at an empty and narrow street. Jack opened his eyes again.

"Hey... this is my house." The cloaked man nodded. "How old are you, Jack?" The boy thought for a second. "Fifteen, I think. My parents didn't celebrate my birthday." The cloaked man spoke again. "Did your parents ever hurt you?" He shook his head. The cloaked man nodded again and pointed at the house as he spoke.

"They did hurt you, Jack. They abandoned you. Never loved you. How does that make you feel?" Jack's face turned sullen. "I feel... bad. Angry and sad at the same time." The man looked at the teen.

"That's alright. You should be. One day, Jack, I will bring you back here and you can tell me if you feel the same. Now, though, we will go home." The boy looked confused as he followed the cloaked man back to the alleyways.

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The Man led the teen through run-down homes and alleyways, never stopping for him, even when the boy begged to wait up. This was a test. If the boy could follow, then he was worth his time. If not, then he would leave him at an orphanage. He was not entirely cold-blooded, after all.

The boy managed to keep up despite the man's best efforts. This pleased him, and he stopped. Jack ran up to him, breathing heavily. "Are... are we the... There yet?" The man nodded and took a step back. They were in an alley that had a door on the left side. This lead to a rather large and dusty building.

The cloaked man knocked on the wooden door twice. "Sulfur." The door opened as soon as the word was spoken, and both the man and the boy walked in. A young man in dirty worker attire greeted them. "Hya, boss. The boys've been very busy in your absence. We got another one of 'em cars working, and a new shipment of-" The man noticed Jack for the first time. "-of um... stuff."

The cloaked man nodded. "Thank you Fergus. This is Jack. I was tasked with caring for him. Make sure the boys are aware." The dirty man nodded. "Will do, boss. Oh, and by the way, we're runnin' low on high-cal. Just a heads up." The 'boss' nodded, and led Jack inside by the shoulders.

The building was a large factory with multiple skeletal floors. There were people everywhere, unpacking and repacking, building and breaking, as well as standing guard. The large furnaces on one side of the factory emited dull red light, giving the entire factory a gloomy appearance.

"See this, Jack? This is were you'll live. There is rooms near the back, and one of them yours. You will be taken care of here." Jack nodded, and looked around even more. The man had a good feeling about the boy, 'So naive and full of potential'. The workers were busy forging and crateing materials for the next run.

The cloaked man guided Jack to his room, through a door near the back. There was a hallway lit up by lamps hanging from the ceiling, and there were doors lined up on the right-hand side. The man pointed at the fifth door. "That is your room. I'll leave you now, as I have other business to attend to. Feel free to explore the other doors, if you like." With that, he turned and left, back the way they came.

Jack stood in the hallway for a few minutes, confused and tired. He took a step toward the first door and knocked. When no one answered, he gripped the knob and opened the door. Inside was a plain and empty room with some boxes and furniture. He closed it and tried the second. This one had no furniture, but it did have lots of crates. The third was like the first but without boxes, and the fourth was empty.

Jack entered his room. There was a couch, a table with chairs, a dresser and some lit lamps. There was a bed in the farthest corner, as well as a nightstand. He looked around, checking both the dresser and the nightstand before leaving. The nightstand was empty, but the dresser was full of clothing, from jeans and hoodies to full tuxedos and suits. All his size.

Trying the sixth door, he found a sort of office space, and decided to leave it alone. Before he could try the seventh, the guy from earlier called for him from the doors. "Hey, Jack! It is Jack, right? It's me, Fergus! The boss wanted me ta tell you something impohtant!" Jack turned and walked towards Fergus. "Okay. What is it?" Fergus fiddled with something in his pockets and answered.

"Th' clock in your room has an alarm set up. The boss wants you to meet with him when it goes off. He will be waiting at the top floor. All you gotta do is walk op them stares oveh theh -" he pointed at the other end of the hall, "- and turn right. And be on time. Anyway, just stay in youh room 'til th' alarm rings, Kay?" Jack nodded and Fergus left after patting him on the shoulder.

Jack decided to try on some of the clothes he found in the dresser, as the ones he was currently wearing consisted of dirty sneakers, a shirt and jeans. He put on some fresh pants, a long-sleeve shirt and new sneakers. Everything fit snugly. He sat down on the couch and took a short nap. After a few hours, the alarm went off waking him from his wonderful slumber.

Jack stood up and walked down the hall toward the stairs. He walked up the four flights before a right turn presented itself. There was a door at the end of a short hall, and Jack walked through. The door lead to a rather large and seemingly unfinished room. There were support posts everywhere and there were only walls in the back and to the left. You could see a clear sky and some buildings from there.

"Ah, Jack! Thank you for being here on time." Jack turned to see the cloaked man sitting in a large chair that resembled a throne, as well as a girl about his age standing next to him with her arms crossed. She was probably a year older than him, actually. "Uh, hi, mister." The cloacked man smiled. "My sincerest apologies, Jack. I never introduced myself! My name is Raleigh satin, but you may call me Raleigh." Jack nodded, and Raleigh spoke again.

"This is one of my associates, Lila Turpin. She will be your mentor and guide. You will learn a lot of things from her, some which you won't understand right now. With time, I'm sure that you two will become very close."

Lila said nothing, standing straight and looking at Jack with a neutral expression. Jack spoke up. "What is... what will I do here? What even is here?" Raleigh smiled again. "Lila will answer all of your questions." He turned to the girl. "Take him to the training room. Make sure to find a weapon that best suits him." Lila nodded and walked towards Jack.

"Follow me." Jack tagged along, sneaking a last glance towards Raleigh. Lila brought him two floors down and they entered another wide room. This one had tables and lockers, as well as wooden targets at the far end. Everything was loaded with guns and ammunition. A short barrier divided the room a few meters from the entrance, and the roof was lit with wide LED lights.

"This is the training room. You will chose two weapons out of all the others. They will be your personal weapons. Choose carefully." She sounded bored as she spoke, and Jack felt a little wounded. He walked forward, examining the weapons. There was rifles, machine guns, pistols, shotguns and even a few knives. He picked up a gun with a wooden stock and foregrip, a long black barrel protruding from it's front. The weapon boasted a large drum, and sleek design.

"That's what your choosing? A tommygun? Suit yourself." He turned towards Lila, but didn't say anything. He kept looking, until his eyes spotted a rather large and long revolver. "Oh, I don't think that's a good idea, friend. That's a .44, the recoil will send it flying out of your hand." Jack had gotten irritated with Lila's neutral and judging replies.

"Hey, I don't know anything about guns! You told me to choose, and that's what I'm doing! You are supposed to help me!" Lila didn't show any emotion, and pointed to a smaller version of the revolver. "That's a 22. If you can handle it well enough, I might let you try the 44. And as long as you don't hold down the trigger, you should be fine with the tommygun.

Jack nodded and picked up the small revolver. It was light and long, a comfortable carbon-fiber grip protruding from it's rear end. Jack tested the weight, and pointed it at the targets. "Shoot one." Jack hesitated, but aimed the revolver nonetheless. "You need to cock back the hammer, then pull the trigger. It's easy." Jack looked at her. "What's the hammer?" Lila pointed at a small piece of metal sticking out of the gun.

"That's the hammer. You pull it back until the cylinder rotates and clicks. Then you pull the trigger to fire." Jack nodded and aimed up the revolver again. He cocked it and fired. The shot rang out and a small splinter flew off the target's shoulder. Lila sighed.

"We're gonna have to work on that."

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Jack sat slumped on the couch, exhausted. Lila had been helping him train for five days in a row, and Jack was beginning to get sick of gunfire sounds. Recently, though, Lila had deemed it a good idea to practice hand-to-hand combat. She bested Jack every time, leaving him battered and bloody. She never truly hurt him, though. Just some scrapes and minor wounds, like nosebleeds and such.

Jack had gotten good with the light revolver, being able to hit his mark at a medium distance. That's not to say that he was perfect, as some times the 'hits' didn't have much impact. The tommygun was a real problem. He fired for a couple seconds at a time, but it was still hard for him to hit anything with it.

Lila happened to live three doors down, at the eighth bedroom. She always woke up earlier, and was always ready before him. Always one step ahead.

They were going to train again tomorrow, target practice this time. He arrived ten minutes late, just to tick Lila off. She didn't show any signs of... Well, anything, really. "Show me how good you are with the 22." Jack picked up the now familiar revolver and loaded it as fast as he could. "Impressive. But loading while under fire is very much different from loading calmly. Empty it and reload." Jack flashed her a confused look but did as he was told, emptying it and loading it back up in a matter of seconds.

"Right. Room for improvement as always. Fire as fast as you can. Try fan-firing if you want. It's when you use your off-hand to cock the hammer while you pull the trigger, efficiently emptying the gun. It takes a while to learn, though, so don't worry if you can't do it."

Jack grumbledand aimed the revolver. "I'm guessing that I have to fire from the hip?" Lila nodded, and Jack shifted the gun down. Once it was in a comfortable spot, he placed his open palm on the hammer and brought it down. As soon as Jack heard it click he pulled the trigger, repeating the process until the weapon was empty.

"Not bad, Jack. I'm sure that with time and practice, you'll be able to fire that thing ten times a second." Jack smiled. "Try the tommygun now." His smile wavered a little, but held fast. He put down the light revolver and picked up the heavy sub machine gun. Holding it in a comfortable, he aimed it at one of the targets.

"Hold it steady, now. Breathe in, breath out." Jack nodded and pulled the trigger once. A spray of bullets flew from the barrel, leaving it glowing red. The head of a target was instantly shredded by the oncoming fire. "Nice. Try holding the trigger down for longer, though. See what happens." This made jack nervous, as he had never been able to control the weapon's recoil when firing with full force.

He shifted his legs, bracing himself. He held the trigger for a full five seconds before the kick became too much. One of the wooden targets got turned to splinters, while the other two suffered minor damage from the spread. Lila gave another approving nod. "I think you should try more stuff. If you can handle those two, then a scattershot or a different kind of pistol should be no problem."

She picked up a double barrel shotgun and a small blocky pistol. "Here. A double barrel and a glock. Try them." Jack took the pistol and aimed at one of the two remaining targets. Before he fired, he asked one thing; "who sets the targets after they've been destroyed?" She smiled. "It could be anyone. Usually it's Fergus, or Simmons." Jack nodded. "Who's Simmons?" Lila pointed at the target. "Focus, Jack."

He sighed and aimed the weapon. After a brief moment he pulled the trigger once. The shot flew through the head of the target, leaving a sizable hole in it's wake. "Try faster, and more." Jack nodded and fired four times in quick succession. The target was filled with bullet-holes. "Good. Now try the shotgun." He took the double barrel and poked at Lila.

"How does this one work? How do I load it?" She pointed at a metal bit beside the barrels. "You pull this down, the empty shells eject, you load new ones, you fire. The recoil is atrocious, and the range could be better, but it's one of the fastest shotguns ever made." Jack fiddled with the gun until he found the release. Two shells flew out, hitting the wall beside him. "Okay. What ammo does it use?" Lila picked up two identical red shells and stretched them out to Jack.

"12 gauge. Pretty common stuff for shotguns. All we have is twelve and twenty gauge, anyway." Jack nodded again and took the shells from Lila. He pushed them into the empty slots where the other shells used to be. Then he pushed the barrel back up and into place, making sure it clicked. "Alright. Now aim it up." He followed her instructions and stood in a comfortable position before he fired.

"That thing has two triggers, one for each barrel. If you just pull willy-nilly, then the recoil will smack it against your face. Fire slowly, try to manage the kick." Jack nodded again and began to pull one of the triggers. The right barrel spit out flames, sending 8 small pellets towards the target. Most of them hit their mark, leaving the poor target's chest hollow.

"Again, other target this time." Jack shifted to face the last remaining target and pulled the trigger. He managed to keep the recoil in check, and the pellets tore through the thin wood of the target. "Okay, now try both barrels at the same time. Remember to reload." Jack ejected the shells and picked up two new ones.

"Are you sure? You said it was hard." She kept her poker face on. "You managed the Thompson, and the recoil from the shotty didn't look like a problem, so go for it." He nodded again and closed the barrels after loading the fresh shells. He braced himself and pulled both triggers hard.

The gun spewed metal, and the target was rendered useless. Jack was pushed back a little, but he kept the gun as straight as possible. "Good job! I didn't think you could actually do it without hurting yourself." The recoil actually took the breath out of Jack's lungs, but he didn't let her notice. "Yep. Easy."

Lila flashed a malevolent smile. "Alright, tough guy. Try this." She picked up a large revolver from the table. "It's the .44 you wanted to try! Think you can handle it?." Jack gave her a smug grin and took the weapon. It felt heavy and big in his hand, but it also felt right. He opened the cylinder and found it fully loaded. Closing it back up, he pulled back the hammer and aimed it at the remains of the second target.

"The recoil is one hell of a problem with that one, so be careful." Jack nodded once again and pulled the trigger. This time, though, it seemed that Lila had been right. The recoil was so much and it hit so suddenly that the gun almost smacked him in the forehead. The bullet left a large hole though the thin target, size in between that of the shotgun and the glock.

Determined to not seem weak in front of Lila, he cocked it again and fired. He was prepared for the push this time, and kept the gun mostly straight. Another gaping hole was left in the battered target. "Well, it seems that you can handle that. I'll call for Fergus to replace the targets before we continue. If you want, you can stay here or go to your room."

Jack looked around. "I think I'll stay." Lila shrugged. "Fine. Suit yourself." With that, she left the room, and her voice could be heard through the thick concrete walls as she called for Fergus. Jack examined the rest of the weapons, reading the engraved names on each of them in his head.

Glock, Thompson, Remington, Magnum, AK-47, FN-CAL... some of these are very weird. He picked up a small rifle with a weird grip, unable to find a magazine. It looked like the magazine was the grip. He aimed at a target, expecting the weapon to be loaded.

It didn't disappoint, spitting out bullets at a fast rate of fire. Since there was no targets left to hit, the bullets sank into the wall. The recoil had been next to nothing compared to the big bulky revolver, but the grip was quite awkward.

Setting the weapon down, he continued his inspection. There were all sorts of firearms, from the smallest pocket pistol to the largest machinegun imaginable. He looked over at the knives. Just like with the guns, there was a lot of them. Even some machetes that would probably count as shortswords instead.

Before he could pick up any of them, though, Fergus entered the room, Lila behind him, both carrying more wooden targets. "Hya, kid! How you doin'?" Jack smiled. "Fine. How are yourself, Fergus?" "Good, good. Thanks for askin'. Lemme jus' replace these targets so you can get back to practicin'." He jumped over the short wall that separated the weapons area from the targets and started setting everything up.

It took him about twenty minutes before he was done. "There! Good as new. Now, I bettah git back to th' boss. We wus discussin importent stuff wit' Daniels, his second-in-command. See ya!" With that, he walked out, back up the stairs. Lila looked at the wall.

"I see some new bullet holes. Which one did you try?" Jack pointed at the gun he used earlier. "That weird one. The grip magazine is a little uncomfortable, but other than that it's a decent weapon." Lila nodded. "Yeah, that's kind of why we don't use it much. Let's keep going."

They spent the rest of the day training, smoke bellowing from multiple barrels, flames erupting from within them. By the time Lila called quits, Jack's arms and shoulders were sore to hell and back. Before Lila entered her room, He spoke up.

"Hey, do you remember when I met you? That Raleigh had said you would answer any questions I have? Well, we had been so busy the entire week that you didn't let me make any." Lila smiled as she opened her door. "That was the intention." Before she could close it, Jack put his foot against the door, stopping it. "Please? I need answers before we do anything else. It's been constant shooting and punching and I don't know why. Will you?"

Lila sighed and opened the door fully. "Come in", she said in a slightly irritated and tiresome voice. She ley down on the couch, stretching and getting herself comfortable. Jack sat down in a chair at the table. "I'll give you answers to three questions. Just three." Jack nodded and thought carefully. It had been a while since he allowed his mind to wander and explore.

"Uhh... what... happens here? Like, what does Raleigh and Fergus and all the other guys do all day?" Lila hesitated for a second before speaking. "Well, I suppose you are allowed to know. Raleigh did bring you in... fine, couldn't hurt, I guess. We are a mob. A mafia gang or clan or whatever. Y'know, drug dealing and black market trafficking and stuff. The whole steel factory downstairs is mostly a façade."

Jack nodded, storing this information. "Okay. That's... a lot to take in, but alright. Now, how... important or big is this... mob?" Lila thought this over. "Well, were a pretty big deal out there. Not the biggest but certainly important. Some gangs even have more political power than the government, us among them. We get constant threats and attacks from smaller gangs trying to catch other large mob's attention."

Jack nodded nice more, and before he could ask the last question, Lila interrupted him. "You nod a lot. Not only when talked to, but to yourself as well. It's pretty weird." He raised an eyebrow, knowing very well what she was referring to.

"Yeah, I guess it is. I'm not very vocal, or shut. I just... nod. It's my way of thinking. And processing information. My parents really didn't let me say much, just nod. So now it's kind of the only way I can express acceptance or understanding."

Lila nodded, and Jack spoke up again. "You owe me another question." She looked at him with mock hatred. "No fair! We didn't agree on this! You can't make me!" Jack smiled, playful mischief in his eyes. "Well, I could tell Raleigh you're not doing your job..." now she smiled. "You are devious. Fine. What else would you like to know?" He thought it over for a second.

"How does the chain of command work here? And who holds which spots?" She organaized her thoughts before answering. "Raleigh holds the top spot. He's the big boss. Daniels is his second-in-command, the chief. Fergus is the steel factory foreman. Simmons is the head of security. Reynolds manages the drug runs and such.

I'm somewhere in between the managers and the chief, as the newbie trainer. The guards and runners are the highly trained peeps, while the steelworkers and storage helpers are new guys." Jack thought for a second.

"Okay, last question. Why are you training me? As in, what makes me special and different from the other newbies?" Lila opened her mouth and closed it again. She repeated the process a few times, hesitating for some time before she actually answered.

"Well... it's probably not my place to say, but here goes. Raleigh was tasked to take you in, to protect you. I have no idea who or why, but Raleigh never turns down a job. So, now you're essentially his protégé. He told me to train you so you could defend yourself, and I'm pretty sure he also plans on sending you out to pull off some tasks."

Jack took his time registering the flood of information before nodding. Then, he got up. "Thanks. For answering my questions. And for the training." Lila smiled. "Of course. It's my job, after all." Jack smiled at her before heading back to his room. Once there, he threw himself on the bed and fell asleep. The day had taken it's toll on him.

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Jack woke up to someone knocking on his door. He stood and smoothed out his crumpled clothes. Walking to the door, he heard another impatient knock before opening. "Yes?" He was met with Raleigh's thrilled and expectant face, as well as Lila's irritated one. "Good morning, Jack! I hope this isn't a bad time?"

Jack rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned. "No, sir. It's fine." Raleigh seemed happy with the response. "Good, good! Lila has reported your progress to me and I would like to see it for myself. Change clothes and meet us at the training room in ten."

Jack nodded and gently closed the door. He then trudged over to the dresser and opened it. He chose some comfortable pants and a white shirt, as well as a black long-sleeve button-up shirt to go over it. Now he looked ready for business. Before he left, though, Jack took a red tie, thinking it would complete the look. Trying his best to tie the damn thing, he eventually gave up and ran outside and up the stairs.

Once he opened the doors to the training room, he saw Raleigh talking to Lila. The boss turned to look at him. "Hello, Jack! Good to see you're as punctual as ever! Let's see how your training has been going, hm?" He picked up a Glock and passed it to Jack. "Here, try this one. Fire it off as fast as you can and then reload it." Jack nodded and walked to stand in front of the targets. He aimed the weapon.

Firing in quick succession, Jack managed to empty the cartridge in less than ten seconds, swiftly dropping the used magazine on the floor and replacing it with a new one. Raleigh seemed impressed. "Very good, Jack! Try this one," Raleigh tossed him a large bulky rifle which Jack recognized as a Remington. "Okay," was his only answer as he aimed the weapon.

Before their talk, Lila had showed Jack how to use every weapon in the room, so he felt comfortable wielding the large shotgun. He shot and pumped as fast as he could, firing off all seven cartridges in a matter of seconds. By now the first and second target were just splinters. Raleigh smiled. "Okay, then, hotshot. Try the Thompson."

Jack picked up the familiar sub machine gun and checked it's drum, finding it full to the brim. Loading it back up, he aimed at the last target. Looking to completely blow Raleigh away, Jack planned to fire off every bullet in the drum. Getting into a steady and comfortable position, he held down the trigger, hard.

The gun spewed lead and fire, turning the last target to mush. Jack's morning tiredness disappeared while firing the weapon. On and on the bullets flew, causing Lila and Raleigh to step back. "Jack, you shouldn't do that! It's dangerous to hold down automatics for so long!" Jack made a grim smile. "Calm down, I got this."

The recoil of the weapon soon became a problem, making his shoulder ache something fierce. He held on, however, keeping the barrel as straight as humanly possible. After about thirty seconds, the weapon finally died down, barrel glowing bright red and smoking. The wall was a mess of bullets, most of them concentrated where the target used to stand.

Jack put the gun down on the table and looked at the slightly frightened duo. Raleigh cleared his throat and spoke up, gruff as ever. "Very well done, Jack. I'm impressed." His smile turned dark, as well as his eyes, giving him a creepy look.

"I think you're ready for your first job."

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More Author's Notes

This is my first ever 5k word chapter, and it took me two and a half moderately busy days to complete. Now I know why it takes some people weeks to dish them out...

I am happy with the way this one turned out, and I hope you guys like it too. Now that I'm done sulking, I will continue with my main story, Knock-On-Wood. So, if you don't mind...

Check it out please? :P

Anywho, thank you for your support, And have a great day! :D

~ LeMafiaKreb

P.S, the chapter is only 5.5k words long because of the epilogue :)