It was a silent shot. Nobody could have heard it. Besides, it had to be done. There was simply no way around it. So as the gunman cleaned his shoes of the blood, he felt no remorse. It was just business as usual.
"Oy, Hearts, you done over there?" One of the grunts tapped the gunman on the shoulder.
"Yeah. Hey, you do this next time. I'm sick of getting my shoes dirty." The gunman was young, no older than sixteen. A blonde mop of hair was topped by a black fedora, one card placed in it. The four of hearts.
"Sure thing." With that the two men left the harbor, on their way home.
"So how'd it go?" A much older man resembling Hearts tapped his fingers on the counter as he prepared dinner. Like Hearts, a thick Australian accent dominated his speech.
"It went well." Hearts grumbled.
"Something wrong?"
"When will I be doing other things? Not that I don't appreciate my status but-"
"Now Eeballaw, we've been over this. You'll take over when I die. Besides, due to your failure as a child, how do I know I can trust you with bigger projects in the near future, hmm?"
"But father, if it weren't for that one boy-"
"You wouldn't have failed, yes I've heard." The older man moved on to chopping meat, the red liquid staining the cutting board. "But because of your failure I have to go to work again, and I have to cook again. And don't get me started on all of that broccoli, I never want to see that bloody vegetable again. My little vacation is completely gone because of your cowardice."
Eeballaw dipped his head, not sure what to say.
"How do you expect me to trust you after that? It's better off if you just do what you're doing now. And don't say it'll stain your clothes, that makes you sound weak. And no son of mine is going to be weak. Do you understand?"
"Yes father…" Eeballaw climbed the stairs up to his room as his father continued to chop the raw meat into bits. Slice by slice.
What was life like on the other side? The other universe? Surely it was a bit better. Eeballaw took his hat off, hanging it neatly on a rack. He imagined that since he was in the mob, he might as well dress that part. Maybe it would not only make him look cool, but help him gain courage as well. What a load of bull that turned out to be. Even his lucky card was useless. Just like him.
He didn't even feel evil anymore. There was just no emotion in it. No spark, no excitement. That had all ended a long time ago. If anything, he was neutral. He could be persuaded to fight for anybody. Or rather, to dispose of anybody. Kids, Adults, it didn't matter to him. It was all about whomever his father decided was going to be on the hit list. So where was the evil in that? Where was the power that he used to have? Did he even want it anymore?
Laying down on silk sheets and satin pillows, for he did have a taste for the more extravagant things in life, he let out a sigh. If things continued like this he was going to go absolutely batty. But for now he closed his eyes, dreaming of the days he used to be someone important. Someone more than a hitman. More than just the boss's son. More than just that one kid who made everyone work for adults and got shoved into the mines. Someone he was proud of.