Yani: Hi everyone. Thanks so much for reading! Please leave some reviews so I can hear your feedback. If you have any thoughts about the direction of the story or where you want it to go, just tell me (though I do have a plan). If you have any fanfics of your own you want me to read, just let me know . Reviews would be great! Thanks and enjoy!

Chapter 3

"Don't move kid." Said the man with the gun to Danny's neck. "I mean it."

Danny did not move. Danny did not say a word, either. What Danny was doing, was trying to figure a way out of this. He looked around. There were no security cameras in sight and it was nearly dark out. That was not good. Just then the shopkeeper emerged from the back.

"Hey!" he yelled. "What do you think-" BANG! The man had removed the gun from Danny's neck and shot the shopkeeper in the head. He fell to the floor, and Danny could tell he was dead before he had even hit the ground. Danny took this moment as an opportunity to act. Quickly, he grabbed the knife from his pocket and made a motion to stab the man, but he noticed, and pulled the knife from Danny's hands. Damn.

"Nice try." Said the man. "I'll give you that. Now go sit against the wall." The man turned and pointed the gun right at Danny as he went to sit at the wall. As he slouched down, Danny got a good look at his soon-to-be-killer. He was older, maybe in his late forties or fifties. He was wearing a black hoodie with the hood up over his head. He was wearing sunglasses and had short grey hair. And he was smiling, but then he stared at Danny and let his mouth hang open slightly.

"What are you staring at?" said Danny, making his voice sound bored, and not fearful. Fearful was not the way to go.

"Nothing." Said the man, though it didn't sound like it. He made a move to pull the trigger.

"Can I just ask you-?" said Danny quickly, in an effort to stall. "Can I ask you one thing before you kill me?"

"Fire away." Said the man smiling at the poor pun he had made. No seemed to have heard the gunshot, and Danny was slowly panicking. He didn't believe in god, but maybe it was karma trying to punish him for the wrong he had done. He drew in a quick breath and said,

"Look, I think I get you."

"Do you?" he said smiling. "Let's hear it, kid, I got all the time in the world. Tell me about me."

"You've got to kill people. It feels good doesn't it? You like watching them die, right? Watching the fear in their eyes. Watching them bleed. That's the best part, isn't it? It is for me, anyway. So if you wanna kill me, I mean, go ahead, you're the one with the gun pointed at my head. But here's what I don't get: Why would you kill me with a gun?"

"What's wrong with a gun?" he said amused. "Are you saying you've actually killed someone?"

"Well," said Danny, eyes locked on the man's eyes, even though he couldn't see them. "I've killed four people. But, what's wrong with a gun? I thought it'd be obvious. It's too easy. One shot and they're dead. Gone. I prefer bats, or knives, or strangulation. It makes it last longer." He smiled darkly.

"You know what?" the man said, "You're right. That's why I have this." He pulled a long knife out of his pocket. He twirled it around in his hand menacingly.

"Oh." Said Danny. He was out of things to say. And he was going to die. He. Was. Going, To. Die. "Well, how many people have you killed with that thing? It's spotless." He had managed to keep his voice level. Good, good, keep him talking.

"None yet, it's brand new. Just for you." The man smiled. He started to move closer to Danny. "Why are you so calm, kid? Usually people beg for their lives at this point. Maybe you want a demonstration of what I'm going to do to you?"

"Actually that's really okay." Said Danny panic seeping into his voice.

"Tell me, kid…what did you say your name was?"

"I-I didn't. It's Daniel Ivy Foyet. That's my full name, but I go by Danny Ivy."

"You're joking."

"Why would I joke about it, especially with a gun and a knife pointed at me?"

"I knew you looked familiar, you…you look like…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Does the name 'George Foyet' mean anything to you?"

"You mean The Boston Reaper?" Danny's face lit up. "He was so cool. I followed all of his murders on the news. I always thought maybe he was my…It was a shame when he died."

"He's not dead." Said the man, stabbing the ground, lashing out in sudden anger. Danny moved as close to the wall as was humanly possible. "I am George Foyet."-stab- "I am the Boston Reaper."-stab- "And I think," his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "You, are my son."