Chapter One – The Freelancer
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Rezzie was leaning against the side of a car, waiting patiently while occasionally checking the time on his phone. He was in the suburbs of some neighborhood five miles from where he lived and the afternoon sun was beating down on his head. Since it was still in the middle of the week, everyone else was mostly either at school or at work. Very few people were at their homes, and the ones that were stayed there minding their own business.

This particular morning had been a drag for the young man because he was early to the destination and he had no other option but to wait there until the time comes. As Rezzie checked his cell phone again, he let out a grunt in annoyance. Wiping a beat of sweat from his brow, he looked around again and shook his head.

"Seven years being here and I still can't get a grasp on their time frames," Rezzie whispered to himself, "Dammit, Nesha, where the hell are you?"

While Rezzie had been a resident in the capitol for the entirety of his teenage years, he still had a hard time getting adjusted to the modern life. While he made a lot more friends that he did back in the woods and the homestead, he didn't have many in his eyes; about only half a dozen. Sure, having that many friends would be considered normal for a young adult in this day and age, it felt off to him. That was probably him just trying to still adjust to modern life.

As for friends, it was the reason why he was there now. His friend and the guy's older brother, Nesha and Titan, had lately been dealing with a deadbeat that had been mooching and stealing off food and money off of them and their family. And when Nesha tried to call in for recompense, the guy refused to do so. Rather than getting law enforcement involved like a normal person, Nesha decided to play the role of a loan shark and deal with him personally. And atop of that, he hired Rezzie and one other friend of his to be his muscle in case things don't go as planned.

So now here Rezzie is, waiting a few houses away from where this guy lived waiting for Nesha to get there. They planned to pay him a visit while his parents were still at work. He didn't judge about that since he still lived with his bad news is that if things get out of hand, he could get arrested. The only good thing to come out of this is that the deadbeat they're going after doesn't know who he is. And as long as he keeps his face from being exposed, as he wore a hat and sunglasses, it'll stay that way.

After ten minutes, Rezzie looked up from his phone and sighed in relief, "Finally those jerk-wads show up."

Coming into the neighborhood, a burgundy minivan nearly avoided hitting a mailbox and parked on the other side of the street. Out of the van, three guys stepped out of it. The first was a large, obese young man that was a head taller than Rezzie and twice as heavy. He wore a dark blue shirt, black basketball shots and a pair of black sneakers. Rezzie recognized him as Titan, Nesha's older brother.

The second guy he didn't recognize, but he was positive that was the the other one that Nesha paid to be his enforcer. He wore a black heavy metal t-shirt, dark gray jean shorts and black sneakers as well. On his face he wore a pair of spectacles that were lightly scratched from just being around for years on end. In his hand was a aluminum bat.

The third guy was Nesha, who looked like he was ready to fight at the drop of a hat. He had a trimmed goatee, a heavy metal tank top, baggy black jeans and black combat boots that tucked the jeans in. In each hand was an aluminum bat held in a reverse grip. The young man looked over at Rezzie and the three approached him, cordially.

"Nesha-freaking-maru," Rezzie greeted as he approached his friend and held his arms out for an embrace, "how the hell are you?"
"Rezzie, you beast, what is up?" Nesha embraced Rezzie before motioning to the second man, "Oh crap, I forgot my manners. Rezzie, this is Smith. He's a friend of mine, same as you. Smith, this is Rezzie. You two are gonna hate each other," Nesha chuckled a bit as he handed one of the aluminum bats over to Rezzie.
As he took the bat from Nesha, he looked over at Smith while cocking his head, "So, I take it that you're a guitar nut like he is right?"
"Damn straight!" Smith grinned at the shorter man, "been playing since my single digits. So, Nesha told me a lot about you-"
"Hang on, man, let's walk and talk. I want to get this nasty bit of business out of the way before things start getting too hot outside. Starting to sweat my ass off as it is," Rezzie looked over at Nesha and Titan, who were just standing around aimlessly, so he clapped at them to get their attention, "Nesha, Titan, get your asses in gear. You want us to get your money back or do you want us to get heat stroke?"
"Sorry, our minds wandered off," Titan spoke, rubbing the back of his head, "Let's go."

As the four men started their way down the street, Rezzie began to have thoughts on the matter. Normally, when he did odd jobs as a freelancer, he often did stuff like cutting people's lawns, assist in construction projects, helping people move out of their houses into new ones, being a delivery boy. Anything that paid decently that needed a strong body to do the work. But this felt like something out of his element, something dark that maybe he shouldn't be dealing with.

Smith decided to pick yo where they left off earlier, "So, as I was saying before, I hear that you and your dad are rock music nuts as well, right"
Before Rezzie could even speak, Nesha decided to speak for him; a common occurrence"Oh hell yeah, he and his dad have all sorts of music. You know how you brag about having 1000 songs on your iPod?"
"Yeah, took a long-ass time to do."
"Well, his dad has his with over 15000 songs on his, most of them very old rock bands. Aerosmith, Pantera, Rammstein, you name it he's got it. And he can fit in a whole lot more."
Smith's eyes widened in surprise, "Holy crap, that's a lot of music. That must've taken a long time to get all that processed."
"Took two weeks to get the CD's transferred over to the computer," Rezzie answered, but he decided to take the conversation to a different turn, "Hey, Nesha, I got some questions about the job that have been bugging me a bit."
Nesha raised his eyebrow at him out of curiosity, "Yeah, what about it?"
"Aren't you worried about the ramifications behind this? If things turn out ugly, it might come back to bite us in the ass," Rezzie explained, expressing his concerns, "The reason I took the job is because he's a scumbag who needs a reality check.
"I understand that you're being cautious about all of this, but you need to be a little more bold about things in life," Nesha waved the matter off, "You can't be afraid to take a little bit of risk in life."
"Yeah, but that typically doesn't involve bashing some douchebag's head in with a baseball bat…" Rezzie pondered to himself before speaking, "Well, we'll do it your way. Hope it's worth it."

After a couple more minutes of walking, they finally made it to the end of the neighborhood where the target's house was located. It was a light tan house with a dark brown roof that was heavily bleached over from overexposure to the sun. The front lawn looked overgrown, a sign that the people living here didn't have any idea how to maintain their property efficiently. Rezzie took a breath and cringed slightly. The area reeked of ammonia, not a good sign. From the front window came the sounds and lights of the television being on.

As the quartet of teenagers approached the front door of the house, the air felt a bit tense. While they weren't the type to back down from their tasks, they were anticipating the worst to come from all of this. Nesha walked up right to the front door of the house and knocked on the door thrice before ringing the doorbell once. At first, nothing happened and the air was silent. No one was answering the door. The four looked among themselves before Titan decided to take a hand at opening the door.

Turning the door knob, the front door opened without any resistance. Rezzie found the matter strange as to why the door was unlocked like that. They weren't exactly in the forest or the countryside, nor were they in a low-crime area of the city. He wasn't sure as to why nor if he wanted to know.

Rezzie turned to Nesha with a look of uneasiness, "I got a bad feeling about this, man. This smells of trouble."
"Well, may fortune favor the foolish," Titan patted on Rezzie and Nesha's shoulders before parting them and standing in front of the rest of the pack, "Randall! It's Titan and Nesha! We're coming in!"

The four walked into the house and the smell of cat urine gripped strong on them so strong that they wanted to gag. The house itself looked like a disaster, like something out of an episode of Hoarders. The place was littered with dirty dishes, clothes strewn about, even full bags of trash were tossed in the corner of the room. The worst part were the roaches that skittered about, as if they formed a large colony or multiple colonies in the cesspool of a house.

Rezzie felt disgusted being in this place. He couldn't believe someone could actually live like this. Sure, Nesha led him into some nasty parts of the city, and Nesha was a bit of a slob himself, but this took the proverbial cake. And he was definitely not the only one feeling this way, judging by the looks of everyone else's faces. Rezzie made it a personal note to double up on their agreed price when this was all said and done.

"By the Gods, who the hell lives here to make this place so trashed?" Smith asked incredulously.
"Randall, a friend of his, the friend's girlfriend and their kid," Nesha answered, sifting past a torn trash bag strewn across the living room.
"Wait, they have a kid living here?" Rezzie asked, his jaw dropping in shock, "How hasn't the Child Protection Services rendered this place asunder? This place looks like a freaking crack den."
"Uhh, that's kinda because Randall and the people that live here smoke crack. A lot of crack, actually," Smith interjected, pausing for a moment to think of what to say next, "…all the crack."
"As if I didn't know," grumbled Rezzie as he looked towards the door to the back patio, "So, should we just call the police on these guys instead of giving them an ass whooping?"
"Yeah, that sounds about right," as Titan was giving his answer, Rezzie turned around and saw a man coming up from behind the over-sized man with a weapon, "c'mon, guys, let's get out of here and get the police involved in all of-"
"LOOK OUT!"

Rezzie swooped around behind Titan, raised his bat up, and deflected what could've potentially been a crippling or lethal blow. That was when he got a full frontal look at the man. He was a head taller than Rezzie, with pasty white skin and greasy, matted black hair. His eyes were bloodshot and was wearing nothing but a pair of black basketball shorts. In his hands was a cheap-forged katana with barely a proper edge on it.

Giving a light push upward to expose a weakness in the man's guard, Rezzie delivered a side kick to the man's gut, causing him to tumble over the recliner chair and onto the floor. That was when things were on high alert. Another man, equally dressed but with long, red hair, came out of the bedroom wielding a sword of his own looking ready to fight as well. Nesha chucked a lamp at that man before he and Smith scurried out onto the back yard. Nathan stepped away from the fray, merely observing from the sidelines.

"Lemme guess, you're Randall?" asked Rezzie as he motioned to the black-haired man, sizing him up.
"Yeah, the hell are you all doing in my house?" Randall slowly rose, gripping onto the sword.
"You sure this is a house or a crack den? Cause you clowns got a lot more to worry about than misdemeanor trespassing. Not sure you know, but you owe Nesha and Titan a lot of money. And judging by how wired you are, I'd got a hunch as to where it's been going towards."
"Well, I know where this is going towards!" Randall threatened with his sword before rushing at Rezzie again.
"Good grief," groaned Rezzie as he took a stance with the bat.

Randall cocked his arm back and took a swing at Rezzie, only to be blocked yet again with the aluminum bat with ease. The blade started to groan from the strain, a noise that Rezzie was quick to notice. Most can tell the difference between combat-ready swords and display swords are the type of steel that they use – high-carbon steel for the former and stainless steel for the latter. He was fortunate that this was a cheap display sword, otherwise the fight would be going on a lot longer with far more caution than he was displaying now.

Deciding to draw the fight outside the house, Rezzie wall ran over the couch before leaping off and landing outside the living room. Coming at him like a mad bull, Randall rushed forward and attempted to tackle him to the ground. However, Rezzie leapfrogged over the drug addict, causing him to tumble out the front door of the house onto the front lawn. The bat-wielding enforcer took the opportunity to get outside as well, and waited patiently as Randall rose back up to his feet.

Now that they were in wide open territory with room to move around, Rezzie was far more nimble and on the move. Randall was taking swing after swing at him, trying to hack away at the man. However, Rezzie was effortlessly dodging and weaving past every blow. He didn't even bother trying to attack, all he was doing was reading Randall's movements and blocking every once in a while if need be. At the same time, he was luring the drug addict closer towards the street where he felt confident he could finish him effectively.

After a minute, Randall's body became sweaty and his movements became slower and more sluggish. It seemed out in high heat, the larger man's stamina was becoming sapped as he constantly kept swinging and missing. Rezzie, since he made as few offensive movements as possible, still had stamina to spare. Once he felt confident in being able to finish Randall off, he would do so swiftly and brutally.

The difference between them in terms of fighting ability were so staggering it could be seen by the untrained eye. Randall may have been the taller man, the larger man, but his lack of stamina and endurance due to lack of training made it apparent that he would burn out in the long haul. Rezzie, however, had been training himself and kept in excellent shape. The chances to him burning out at the same rate as Randall was was very slim.

Panting, Randall took one last swing at Rezzie, and that was when he acted. Blocking the strike, he swung the bat upward towards Randall's hand and wrist holding the sword, aiming to disarm the man of his weapon. As the bat connected, he saw as the drug addict's right thumb snapped in half, breaking the man's hand. The sword got flung up in the air and Randall clutched his hand in shock, horrified at the new development. A leg sweep caused the disarmed man to fall forward face-first onto a metal grate that was on the sidewalk, which was piping hot from being out in the sun all day.

Seeing his chance to finish him, Rezzie leapt atop of drug addict and pressed his face on the metal grate as hard as he can, holding it there for as long as possible. The sounds that Randall made of him screaming and yelling in pain and agony were borderline horrific as the left side of his face started to cook and burn like a piece of steak from being pressed on that sun-baked grate. After about half a minute, Randall went quiet as he passed out from the shock and pain. Deciding that enough was enough, he let go of the unconscious man and rose to his feet, trying not to breathe in the smell of cooked flesh. The whole mess was enough to make him feel a little bit sick. At that moment, the drug addict's sword finally returned to terra firma and broke into pieces on the pavement

Turning around, he saw Titan, Nesha and Smith come out of the house, the two panting in exhaustion. Nesha had a few scuff marks and a couple of gashes on his body where he got nicked by the redhead's sword. Smith, however, looked like he just went full bore. Nesha looked over at the unconscious Randall and cringed a bit a the smell of burnt flesh. It took them a coupe of seconds to register the severity of their actions before Titan finally spoke.

"Dude, you screwed him up bad, man," Titan said, shocked at what he saw.
"Believe me, I took no pleasure in that," Rezzie said as he handed the bat over to Nesha, "What about the ginger? Hopefully you guys didn't kill him."
"Don't worry, he's still alive. We only just knocked him out in the backyard," Smith answered, motioning to Nesha, "this guy gassed out partway through and got cut a few times. Luckily the sword that he was using was a cheap blade or we'd have to be taking him to the ER."
"Fair enough. You gonna be okay patching yourself up?" Rezzie asked, concerned over the state of his friend.
"Oh yeah, definitely. I've had worse than this," chuckled Nesha as he patted himself over, "give me a few days and some band-aids and I'll be all right."
"Be sure to not let those cuts get infected. So, what do we do from here?"
"Let's get the hell out of dodge before the cops show up," Titan answered, "last thing we want is to get snatched up by them."'
"Understood, we'll keep our heads down and reconvene over at my place in a few days," Rezzie replied before turning to Smith, "you never been there before, so Nesha can give you the address."
"Sure thing. Also, I definitely owe you two big time after all of this," Nesha chuckled in relief, "seriously, thank you."
"Not so fast, man. The situation's changed; the original price isn't gonna cut it this time," Rezzie crossed his arms, frowning and stood side by side with Smith, "I grilled that guy's head into a brisket. You owe us both double, no exception."
"Well, since you put it that way, I suppose it's fair," Titan sighed before relenting, "Double it is."
"Oh hell yes, thank god for that," Smith laughed before asking, "But yeah, why the hell are we standing around for with our thumbs up our asses. Let's get the hell out of here!"

The four split up and went their separate way, with Rezzie going off on his own on foot while the three ran to their van. After getting in, the trio peeled out of the neighborhood and drove off. Rezzie, however, hopped the stone wall that bordered the neighborhood they were in and landed out on the city street on the other side. Keeping a casual but brisk walk, he walked down the street towards the way back home.

Meanwhile, he was reflecting on what went down. To sum it up, he broke into someone's house, fought one of its residents, broke his thumbs, and to top it all off he melted the side of his head to a metal grate onto the sidewalk. He probably gave the man second-third degree burns and definitely disfigured his face. If he got caught, he'd probably be looking at some jail time, possibly prison depending on how ornery the jury was. The only things that were his saving grace was that he didn't know his name or his face, and since Rezzie was wearing gloves he didn't leave fingerprints either. But oddly enough, because the guy was a crackhead and a thief, he didn't feel as bad as he thought he should've.

What concerned him the most was what Nesha mentioned inside, about there being a child living there. He had to wonder what kind of people would be so dense as to expose a child to that kind of living. On one hand, he shouldn't get involved like that, leave things as they are. On the other hand, since he already got a hand in all of this, he might as well see things through to the end. He figured he might as well at that point.

After about three minutes of walking down the street, he came up to a gas station that was was on his right the corner of a street intersection. It seemed to be getting a fair bit of business. 20 feet to the side in front of the gas station was a payphone. It looked in half-decent shape and appeared operable.

And that was when Rezzie got an idea in his head. He did feel a moral obligation to call the police and have the residents arrested for drug charges. On the other hand, he didn't want to incriminate himself or his friends after breaking into someone's house and beating the daylights out of them. So he planned to use the payphone to make an anonymous call to the police, lie about his name, and skedaddle. As he walked up to the payphone, he tried to be as cool and collected as possible.

Fishing some quarters out of his pocket, he popped them into the payphone and punch in the police call number As the phone rang a few times to try to get into contact with them, Rezzie took in a deep breath in order to calm himself down and brace himself for what's to come. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing or not but he decided to go with his gut on this one.

After a few more rings, a man on the other line picked up to answer, "This is the Capitol Police Department, what's your emergency?"
"Yes, I want to report a noise complaint coming from Dogwood Hills," Rezzie masked his voice to sound deeper and more nasally, "there seems to be some sort of gang activity going on towards the end of the neighborhood because I heard a whole bunch of shouting and fighting going on over there," Rezzie paused before adding, "I think there might be drugs involved."
"I see. And may I get a name and an address to get a hold of you by for further questioning?" asked.
The freelancer didn't even skip a beat in his lie, "My name is Lucas Gallagher. I'm a homeless man residing at the local shelter on Nebraska," Rezzie knew that street was a low-income street filled with dregs and criminals, so he assumed a homeless shelter could possibly be in there.
"All right, police dispatch will be in Dogwood Hills in a few minutes."
"Thank you. I have to go, have a nice day."

Rezzie hung up the phone, and stared blankly at it while being beside himself. He couldn't believe the audacity he had to do all of that. Gulping, he decided what's done is done and that he had made his should the time to lie in it, he wasn't going to shrink away from it. Holding his head high, he headed back home, feeling a sensation of guilt and dread hang over him as hot as the afternoon sun.