Chapter 1
A/N: Ep. 2 - Right at the beginning scene
Disclaimer: I do not own Gansta
In a dim lit alleyway, a middle aged man with a brown skin tone and a muscular physique walks calmly down his way until noticing a young woman who had her hair tied up in a bun and wore dark colored lipstick. He immediately shot her a glance but was shot down, snickering slyly like a wolf about to hunt down his prey. The bald man was ready to seize the prostitute until he felt a hard bump on the shoulder and had his hand stucked to some kind of metallic string.
Just what he needed, a punching bag, "Where yo eyes at, mother fucker?!" He felt his eyes drawn to what attached to him and noticed quickly that not only was he in danger, but his life could end in just a few seconds.
"Shit, a Dogtag!" he squirmed and felt a rush of adrenaline hit his body. He ran quickly to the opposite direction while swingining his arm widlly to get the thing off as soon as possible.
He felt his heart beating as he took another sharp left and another and another, hitting everything he could with his body, trashcans, old newspaper, other people. He didn't care. He knew that insane monster would completely destroy him if he gave up an inch.
After carelessly running for a more than several minutes he felt his body break down and he had his hands to his knees, his heart turning for the worse. His back leaned against the wall and slowly dragged down where he went limp and started feeling his body returning back to normal.
The people walking around him didn't see anything odd. There were tons of addicts around here who sat near curbs, wasting away their life, he was just glad to be alive. But just before he could calm down and return back to his life he noticed something that stopped all forms of movement.
The people casually walking to their destination stop. His heart refused to beat. Even the sweat from his forehead didn't drip a single drop.
The Dogtag. He still had the Dogtag.
He heard a metallic sound that made a slight vibration from the fire escape near him. He followed the sense of noise which led up the stairs and to the first floor of the apartment behind. Nic had his Katana out of his sheath, tapping against the metal floors beneath him.
The man jolted to the other direction but had no energy to run. He fell to his butt again, crawling slowly backwards. Nic jumped from the first floor to the ground easily, looking unphased by the running. He slowly walked up to him and pointed the tip of his blade at the mans head until repositioning it to his Dogtag. He then lifted his other hand into the air and showed three fingers.
His third finger dropped.
The man realized his dire situation and tried to unhook the Dogtag from his arm, but he was too scared. He kept fidgeting, screwing up, and the Dogtag kept getting more tangled. He felt his eyes move to Nic and to the Dogtag a million times more than he needed to, furthering deterring his chance of survival.
His second finer dropped.
The man started to panic more and tried harder to take it off, even forcefully pulling it from his limb. The metal made from the Dogtag must be special because he couldn't break it apart. He looked at Nic one more time until Nic displayed a scowl, basically telling him his wasting time.
His last finger dropped.
The man remembered something. He felt his eyes drawn to a silver blade he had in his side pocket. If he tries now. He can take this guy out. Who is he anyways? He can't even talk for himself and his carrying a Katana. He can't be a real Merc, can he? He felt his breathing breaking, scared for his life. He had only one choice. He reached for his pocket-
His hand dropped.
His head turned in front of him and he saw Nic walking away with his Dogtag. He then turned his head to his arm. It wasn't there. Instead, there was a pool of blood and a disable limb laying in it. The hand looked so familiar. Where did he last saw it? And then...the pain kicked in.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
