You had always been a bit on the bad side as a kid. It grew worse as it became older. Naughtiness turned to rebellion, then to drugs, then to crime, and now something way beyond that. You were a murderer. You kidnapped victims, directed them, and sold their best organs. It was dirty work, but damn, were you rich. You mostly did your crimes all around the area. Nobody expected you.

you were at work. Well, you know what I mean. It was the backroom of an abandoned shop near an empty little town called Bakersfield. After picking out the victims insides, you closed them into a safe a cooler. Since the city was always empty after dark, you didnt bother taking in your blood-staimed apron. As you walked out rhe back door to load the cooler into your truck, you heard a noise.

Your head whipped to the side. A man, maybe late twenties, was standing there. Frozen, dumbfounded—terrified.

shit.