This is going to be my last heist, hopefully. They said that if I helped I would be free of my debt. After this minor mission, I could start my own crew, be my own boss and maybe even carry a real gun. The guns in this crew are so small they make you feel like they should be shooting water, not a bullet. I would rather have a rifle or use hand to hand combat, something that required some skill, not something that anyone can do.

The car pulled to a stop in front of Gotham National Bank. I , checked my mask. Secured. The mask was my trade mark. It was an extravagant masquerade mask, trimmed in gold with black feathers. I had become so prominent that the media gave me a nickname .The Raven. It fit, I thought, plus I like the sound of it. Niko, Nathan, and Ulrich pulled on their ski masks and we exited the car pulling out our guns as we went along. When we entered GNB I shot up into the ceiling, some plaster sprinkling down onto those standing below.

"Hello ladies and gentleman," I said, "We are here to collect and this will only take a minute." I was headed toward the teller, when I caught a motion out of the corner of my eye. I turned seeing security guard, a newbie, trying to wrestle his gun out of his holster. I stepped over to him and placed the gun to his temple. "What do you think you're doing?" Before he could answer, Nathan came over and slammed the butt of his pistol into the back of the man's head, and he crumpled like a rag doll to the ground.

"You didn't have to him that hard." I said, laughing. For Nathan, that was one of the lighter hits he had ever given a guard. He laughed along with me and went back to securing the citizens in the bank, and I continued to the teller.

"We paid you last week. We owe you nothing," said the teller, a short stout man, with a receding brown hairline and rather large gut.

"Not from our records. You still seem to owe us a couple hundred thousand dollars, so I suggest you give it up now and make it easier on yourself." I jumped over the teller booth, landing right beside the man. "Don't even bother calling the cops either, there is no signal for you inane wireless alarm." I pointed the gun to his head, a little bit of incentive. "Now move." I stuffed the bag into his hands as we walked back into the vault.

I waited as he went through the procedures to open the vault and started filling the bag with the contents of each box. As he handed me the bag, a shot rang off. What the hell were they doing? We weren't supposed to kill anyone, this was supposed to be a semi-clean pay off. The teller sprinted as the shots rang out, and before I could stop him, he was outside the vault. As I reached the door, I had my gun pointed towards his direction, but wasn't able to get a shot off before I saw him fly back against the wall of the hallway, his blood spattering the white washed walls of the hallway.

"What the hell?" I said out loud. I saw the barrel of a gun come around the corner, and ducked just in time to have the bullet miss me and ricochet off the vault door. I scrambled back into the vault and hid beside the entrance. If anyone was going to come in they would be dead within a second. Even though I hated these guns, I was good at them, I always tried to excel at whatever I was given. The point of the barrel came first and I shot the gun around the corner. I didn't need to see the hit because I felt the warmth of blood spattered across my hand. I knew that wasn't one of my guys, no one had an AK-47; we all had pistols, since we didn't expect to have company.

I closed my eyes and concentrated, looking for any sound of footsteps across the bare wood floor that were in the hallway. I heard none and quickly stole out of the vault, ignoring the gunner's body, and reached the end of the hallway. I paused and checked around the corner, and I could see straight into the lobby of the bank. The room was filled with guys in clown masks, and they were surrounding all of my guys. I couldn't do anything to help them as I watched the clowns put bullets into Niko, Ulrich, even Nathan's head. I cringed, I knew those men, and I had grown close to them over the three years I worked with this crew, though it had been involuntary. I was so mesmerize that I barely noticed that one of the clowns was looking back at me. I pulled back around the corner, looking for a door to some other room besides the vault. A few feet down the wall I spotted a sign that said storage. I ran to the door, forced it open, and closed it just as two guys in clown masks rounded the corner and went into the vault.

"Dang what happened to him?" I heard one of them say, "Because I don't think that dead guy did that."

"Me neither," said the other one, "Let's just check out the vault." I waited patiently, hoping they would just leave, but I heard a gunshot from the vault, and saw only one guy come out, with a bag, the other never appeared. Once he rounded the corner, I slowly opened the door, and cringed when it creaked. After a pause I tiptoed to the vault door and saw the other man was dead, an open hole through his abdomen. 'Shit,' I thought, what is up with this? They are killing each other? This is sure one messed up crew'. As I was about to turn around, I felt a knife to my throat.

"Hello beautiful," said a voice. I stood perfectly still, knowing that if I moved that he would most likely slit my throat. I know people like that, the ones that kill without a second thought, and usually I am one of those people. "I suggest you drop the gun or you blood is going to be added to this little painting. I looked and saw the blood from the man I killed in front of me."

I let the gun slip from my fingers, the sound of it hitting bare wood sent a shiver up my spine. I was defenseless something I hated, even with my knife, which was hidden in the sole of my show. I heard a gunshot and jumped, but it had come from the lobby. The man laughed and spun me around to face him. Through the eyes of my mask, I could only see his face, which was also covered by a mask, though his eyes were psychotic. He looked me over and was about to ask me a question when someone called from the lobby.

"Hey, Grumpy. The place is cleared, and everyone else is dead. Let's go before the cops come." The psychotic man sighed.

"Every time. Why can't they act like civilized people and not kill each other. Come on, let's go sweetheart." He pushed me forward and I stumbled to the end of the hall and he pushed me once again into the lobby.

"Wow. Look what you found. A girl in a mask. What a coincidence. Too bad you won't get to stay with her. I know you're supposed to kill me, so I'll just shoot through her to get to you."

"I'm not supposed to kill you. I kill the bus driver."

"What the hell…..?" but before he could finish his sentence, a bus came through the doors of the bank, hitting the other clown, sending him flying into the teller's booth.

"Come one," said the man with the knife, "Get in." He pushed me up into the emergency exit of the bus, grabbed the bad and follows suit. He pushes me into a seat and hurries to the front of the bus. The driver is hunched over in the seat. The man pushes the driver, sending him tumbling down the stairs and out the bus doors. With that, the man put the bus into gear, and pulled out into a line of school buses just, blended in perfectly. After a couple of minutes of driving I moved towards the front of the bus and sat down a couple seats behind him.

"Who are you?" As I sit down behind him. I start to wiggle my knife out of my boot, trying not to attract attention.

"Finally, you ask?" he said. Taking of the mask, to reveal his face, painted in white, with black shaded eyes, and red lips that went up over scars that made him look like he was always smiling.