Down on luck. Looking for anything. You were desperate. No money or house. All you had were legs, and your parents disappointed faces engraved in your mind. Like a haunting face, each step you took gave you a pang of pain.

You knew some fighting moves and all, a decent medic if you needed to be. You could protect yourself, and that’s all you needed. You were convincing when you needed you be. And oh look, a secret mafia on the loose! What an opportunity!

You were everything they needed. A fifth add-on. Or just a distraction..? You had thought about it. But soon enough, you found you didn’t have a choice in this.

You walking down a dark alley. Looking for anything scraps or fabric. But then, you felt the presence of someone. You halted, turning around and facing four tall men. One with a mischievous smile, the other with a serous yet amused expression, an annoyed one, and the last one with a goofy smile. You asked what they needed, and what a surprise, then wanted you. One way or another, you were going with them.

After a short lived battle, they knocked you out. Dragging you to their secret location. You were tied up, and blindfolded— not to mention gagged. You soon woke up to the sound of old music. The slight sound of static indicated that it was a record. The strong smell of money and cigarettes lingered in the air.

You flinched as the sleek fabric covering your eyes torn off. Adjusting to the new light, stood four men.

Soldier, the dumb one who was sweet as poisoned honey, smiled at you, swinging a crowbar in his hands carelessly. Looking at you like an excited kid waiting to meet new friends.

Contractee, the grumpy yet fun one glanced at you, not to please about something. A rifle tucked in his pocket—but he seemed somewhat interested in you.

Caporgime the serious and ‘I’m doing my job right out of all these baboons’ one acknowledged your consciousness with a small wack on your head from his bat on your head— JUST to make sure, ya know? As you winced, they payed no attention from the gag on your mouth, snuffing out the sound. He didn’t seem to intrigued by you.

Consigliere looked at you. A sadistic smile on his face. A pocket knife in their hand, their eyes practically saying ”Ooh! Their skin looks cut-able!” Giving you chills.

Then, a tall man in a black suit approaches behind them. A black fedora hat shadowed out their eyes. They smelled strong of blood and cigarettes. He stared at you. His gaze as sharp as black broken glass.

“Hm…Gentleman, don’t hurt them just yet. Who are you?— and most importantly, are you worth killing?”**

With a jerk of his head, Soldier headed over behind you and removed the gag.