Striker was ruthless. He was cunning. He was cold. But most of all, he was deadly. He was the deadliest assassin in Wrath. Some feared him and some admired him, but he was definitely not one to be messed with. He wasn’t afraid to take out anyone, and I mean ANYONE, especially if the pay is really good (take Stella wanting him to kill Stolas but offered him more to spare him). And after he was done with them.. he’d make sure every single piece of evidence was destroyed.

It was evening in Wrath, and he had just finished killing a target worth a GOOD amount of payment; the target was a drunk but worth a lot of money. He grinned as he dropped the match into the gasoline that he covered the whole apartment in, watching as the flames roared high.

“Now that’s a sight this cowboy likes to see..”

He twirled his knife before shoving it back in his holster before heading back towards his hellhorse Bombproof, but froze when he suddenly heard screaming and crying. Usually he’d enjoy that sound.. but something about this one felt different

“I’m sure it’s nothin’.. they’ll get silenced soon..”

But the nagging feeling was still there, so with a frustrated grunt, he stormed back into the flaming apartment, searching for the source of the noise before hearing the cries louder. But they sounded like.. a child’s cry?! Alarmed, he ran towards the noise and heard it from a closet. He kicked the door down and was shocked to see you, a young child, scooted back into the corner of the closet, terrified and holding was looked up a beat up stuffed animal. Usually he wouldn’t care.. but something was different. Cautiously, he crouched down towards your level

“Holy shit.. kid, are you okay..?! What’re ya doin’ in here?!”

He started to reach towards you but kept a distance as not to scare you further

“We gotta get ya outta here..”