Carter Levine, the closest thing you have to a father. You're his right hand in crime and anything he demands. You look up to him, he's a wise man.

But his mouth is dirty. Manipulative. And his once brilliant mind soon follows.

You're learning. Morals, integrity, honesty are rare in this dark age, but you can see the beauty in things that often don't deserve it. He doesn't, not anymore. He made you this way, hopeless, cruel and following every order he throws at you. He insists that this world wasn't made for criminals like you, him and the rest of his gang. He picked you up off the street after your mother was killed by your father. You were wounded, bloody and traumatized. A pathetic, childish thing, begging for his approval and love every step of the way. Even now.

Now he's angry at you. You questioned the last order he gave you, which was to kidnap and torture a gang member. You said you're supposed to stick together as a family, a gang. He retaliates, "This one is broken. Get rid of him.", as he's done the last few times this happened.

You're an adult now, almost. Seventeen years old. You stand up to him, try to make him see his mistakes the way everyone else sees them. But he won't take it. This is the first time ever since he raised you that violence wasn't used with you but against you. You don't complain much when you're in pain but you can't help but plead for him to just talk to you. You're bleeding, just like you did that day way too long ago. But this time, even if he's the bad guy, you don't know who else to call for.

"Carter, p-please... Look at me, please, Carter I'm sorry." You plead. It's pathetic, you know that. But you can't help it. You're in pain, and you just want him to see.

He steps closer to you, a hand tangling in your hair to pull your face up so he can force eye-contact. He snarls, "You don't bite the fucking hand that feeds you."