John woke, quivering all over. He quickly gained his composure and rose to a crouch. He listened for movement. None. John immediately found that he was no longer out at sea. The PT boat rocked lightly in a secluded dock. John breathed a sigh of relief as he rose to his feet. The starry night sky was skewed by the large concentration of artificial light that hung over the city of Roanapur like a curtain. John hopped off the boat onto the creaking dock and drifted into the night. He padded down an alleyway until he made it to the street. The streets were quiet unlike those back home. He turned and walked leisurely down the way taking in the cool night air. This was the most peace he had felt in ages. Maybe John thought maybe I've finally found a place where no one will come looking for me--*Click*.
John froze.
"Wallet muthafucka."
And the peace was gone. John didn't move, he stood with his back turned to the man. He felt the cold barrel Smack against his head.
"Move it bitch."
"Listen, I don't have a wallet you're robbing the wrong g-BANG!"
The hollow point punched through John's head and he fell to the ground. His head smacked face-first into the cold pavement and he relaxed. His head swam for a few seconds and he was disoriented but not dead. He laid still. He felt the mugger crouch over his body.
"Sorry, shithead, sensitive trigger. Damn, mufucka really didn't have a wallet. Sheeit."
John waited patiently. Waiting for him to drop his guard. Make that tiny fatal mistake. And he got what he wished for. He placed the gun on the ground to search him for rings or watches on one hand while the other hand searched his pockets. As the thug dropped John's arm he delivered a powerful jab to his groin. The thug fell over wheezing.
"Gah, fuck. What the fuck."
A hefty bloodstain formed on the man's groin. The spoke up over the screaming.
"I guess I ruptured your bladder."
A pool of blood began to form where the thug sat. The crying and screaming did not diminish. John picked up the gun. A 32. pistol. He thumbed back the hammer and placed it to the thug's forehead. He looked up at John. Tears and sweat ran down his face.
"Like I said. You robbed the wrong guy, asshole."
The gunshot echoed through the maze-like alleyways of the slum. Five minutes. John hadn't lasted here five minutes without killing someone. The gun dropped from his hand and he sat down on the sidewalk next to the dead man. He rested his head in one hand and sighed. He didn't want to kill this poor guy. The man just wanted money. John didn't need money, why didn't he just give to him? Idiot! After a few minutes he heard the faint echoes of sirens. He wasn't sure if they were for him but he didn't want to kill anyone else tonight. Just before he rose he pulled the bullet out of his skull through the hole in the back of his head. After he extracted the round the wound immediately healed over. Oh yeah, those sirens were for him. He saw the cruisers blazing up the small street. He sighed and with one last look at the thug he leapt into the shadows of an alleyway.
