Trevor Blade fell through the trees and bushes as the sounds of the men and dogs grew fainter behind him. He knew how to cover ground, and do it silently, he had learned that in Vietnam, but the blood loss from the bullet wounds was making it a lot more difficult. He stumbled over a root in the ground and tumbled down a hill, find himself in an old cemetery. He could barely make out the names on the crude tombstones, which showed their age.

Trevor Blade: F-family plot. Really old. If this is where they died, I wonder where they lived, and I hope it's close.

Trevor picked himself up off of one of the crude stones, and looked around, hoping to find a house, or the remains of a house. Something to buy him some time. He wouldn't be able to fight it much longer. He knew from experience, he'd soon black out again.

Meanwhile Jane Barlow had found her way into a dilapidated house in the woods. She could hear voices behind her, and wanted to run out to them, but then it became clear who the voice belonged to.

Richard Scott: Jane? You out here girl. You and I need to have a serious talk! Come on out! Jane! Jane!

Jane covered her mouth and shut her eyes, the tears streaming down her face. She quickly ran to an old wooden staircase, and crawled underneath it into the dust and cobwebs brought on by years left unattended. She suddenly heard more voices coming up behind Richard. She recognized them too. Richard's hunting buddies. Bruce and "Putter" as he liked to be called. She especially didn't like Putter. Not because of his unkempt looks, balding head, bushy mustache, or his horrible smell, but he because of the way he was always looking at her. It made her scared every time. She felt like she was in a nightmare.

Putter: You sure she's out here? All alone?

Richard Scott: She has to be. She was with her Dad when- when it happened.

Bruce: Hey man, you don't have to explain yourself to us. I wanted to do the same thing.

Richard Scott: I didn't mean to shoot the other two. It was an accident, but we've got to clean this shit up! If I go down, you both lose everything too. Don't forget that.

Putter: We'll clean it up Richard.

Bruce: Yeah, but killing a kid?

Richard Scott: She knows it was me. No choice but to. Simple as that.

Bruce: That's cold.

Richard Scott: It's nessescary. It's survival Bruce. You fucking in or not?

Bruce: I'm in. I'm in.

Putter: Just let me talk to her for a few minutes. I bet I could convince her to-

Richard Scott: Hey! You look at me Putter. Don't fuck around. You see her, and you shoot her. You get me?

Putter: Yeah, I got you Richie.

Richard Scott: Good. Now, the trail ended a ways back, but she's a scared little girl. She's lived around here, but she's never been this deep in the woods, not like we have. She'd go running to the nearest place she could hide, and that old house over there is the nearest thing. I'm telling you, she's in there. Let's go.

The three men entered the old house. Jane kept as quiet as possible, as they searched around with flashlights and guns at the ready. They were definitely not here for a rescue, no matter what they said. They called for her, as they grew closer. She backed into the crevice, as she heard creaking above her. Two sets of feet were slowly going up the stairs. She could hear them growing fainter as they went further into the house. She couldn't hear the third set. This was the moment to move she thought to herself, and quickly tried to escape, but standing right outside her hiding place was the third man.

Putter: Well, look what we have here.

Sheriff Scott and Tom Huddle lead a larger posse through the woods, trying to get back on the trail of Blade.

Sheriff Scott: This fucker covers his tracks, I'll give him that much, but we'll find him, and I'll-

Tom Huddle: Give him a chance to surrender?

Sheriff Scott: He had that chance. I gave it to him. I warned him. He doesn't get a second chance.

Tom Huddle: You get to take justice in your own hands like that?

Sheriff Scott: Look at this badge you son of a bitch. This says I make the justice. Always has. You lot knew that. You kept your heads down, or in your case, you at least cut me in and employed my brother, but this asshole didn't get the message, and now we're going to put him down.

Tom Huddle: I just don't understand why he'd shoot them and burn down his own ho-

Sheriff Scott: What? You think my brother did it? You believe the psycho from New York over one of us? This ain't the bastard you used to run around with. The spoiled kid with the nice cabin in the woods? No, that fucker died in 'Nam. We've got a stone cold killer out here. Nothing more.

Tom Huddle: I didn't want it to come to this.

Sheriff Scott: But it has.

Tom Huddle: Yeah. Yeah, it has I suppose.

Tom revealed that his gun wasn't even loaded, but he quickly changed that by loading it with ammo.

Sheriff Scott: That's more like it.

In the darkness Blade could hear the screaming again. The screams of those killed in Vietnam. The screams of his loved ones. He looked around as Laura Blade, Detective Dalton, and John and Kelly Newton surrounded him.

Laura Blade: You let us die.

John Newton: You let me down. You let me die, and you then you got my sister killed.

Trevor Blade: No!

Detective Dalton: You're a killer. You're just a killer. All you'll ever be is a killer. You should just kill yourself.

Trevor Blade: Stop it!

Kelly Newton: I trusted you. I let you into my bed, and you got me killed!

Trevor Blade: No! I didn't! I never wanted this! Stop!

Laura Blade: You let us all di-

Suddenly, Blade heard another voice. A young girl yelling out, crying for help.

Trevor Blade: Stop! Let me go! I have to help her!

Laura Blade: You let us-

Trevor Blade: You're not real! She needs me! Now let me go!

Trevor bolted awake, and crawled out from under an old dusty bed. The door to the main room of the old house was open, giving Trevor a view of a man dragging a young girl out in the open.

Trevor Blade: J-Jane?

Putter threw her to the ground, and began to undo his belt.

Putter: You want to live girl? You're going to do exactly what I tell you to do. Now, open wide.

Jane closed her eyes and tried backing away. Putter dropped his pants and walked up to her laughing, but suddenly an arm wrapped around his neck, as Blade pulled his hunter knife from his side, and castrated the man. He shoved Putter's genitals in his mouth as he slashed his throat and tossed him to the side. Covered in blood, and feeling the familiar throbbing rage, he looked down to see the crying girl still backing away in fear. He calmed himself enough to tend to her.

Trevor Blade: *whispering* Jane. Jane. Shhhh. It's me Trevor.

Jane Barlow: Trevor? What happened? Where did he-

Trevor Blade: *whispering* Don't worry about it. Don't look at him. Seriously, don't look. Listen, you need to get out of here. There is an old cemetery west of here. You know which way is west?

Jane Barlow: *nods*

Trevor Blade: *whispering* Good. Go there and hide. I'll come for you.

Jane Barlow: What are you going to do?

Trevor Blade: *whispering* I'm going to deal with them.

Jane Barlow: He-he killed my Dad. *sniff*

Trevor Blade: *whispering* I know kid. Trust me, I'm going to remind him of that.

Jane hugged Trevor, which caught him off guard, before she got up and ran away. As she left his view, things seemed to slow for Trevor, as the rush of blood and adrenaline returned. Maybe he was a killer, but he believed more than ever that some people might have it coming. He pulled the knife out of Putter's body and made his way slowly up the stairs.

Tom Huddle and Sheriff Scott continued to search around the woods, when they suddenly heard a noise from the east, moving in fast.

Sheriff Scott: Alright, I'm about to shoot this son bitch if he thinks he can get the drop on-

Tom Huddle: Hold your fire. Listen, that's not an adult.

Suddenly, a crying Jane Barlow burst through the bushes to Tom and the Sheriff. She moved away from Sheriff Scott, but Tom was quick to embrace her.

Tom Huddle: Jane! Shhh! It's alright. It's alright, we're here now.

Jane Barlow: You have to listen to me. Trevor is in trouble! He's over there and-

Sheriff Scott: You bet your ass he's in trouble! You show me where they murdering son of a bi-

Jane Barlow: He didn't do it!

Tom Huddle: What?

Jane Barlow: It was Richard! Richard Scott killed my Dad!

Sheriff Scott: That's bullshit kid! Why the hell would you say something like that?!

Jane Barlow: It's true! I was hiding in the vehicle he was towing! I saw him do it! Trevor barely escaped with his life, and now you're out here trying to kill him!

Sheriff Scott: Little missy, I don't know what lies he put in your head, but my brother is no killer, but this 'Nam vet psychopath sure as hell is! Go take a seat in my car. We need to talk about this Tom.

Jane Barlow: No! I don't want to go with you! I can't! I-

Tom Huddle: Shhh. It's alright Jane. Go sit in my car instead alright. You'll find it with the others. Just go run that way. I'll talk to the Sheriff, and then I'll have a word with Blade. Alright?

Jane Barlow: Don't hurt him! *sniff*

Tom Huddle: Hey, how long have you known me. Your Dad was one of my best friends.

Jane Barlow: *nods*

Tom waited until Jane was far enough away, before his reassuring smile turned to anger.

Tom Huddle: What the fuck is going on out here Sheriff?

Sheriff Scott: That mother fucker is lying. Alright? He's lying. These people out here getting hurt, are OUR people! You're a member of this community Tom, but your "friend" sure as hell isn't! He tried to burn down your business! Everything you tried to build. Richard never hurt nobody!

Tom Huddle: He's always had the potential to. Even Blade saw that. I pretended that I didn't, but come on. What if she was telling the truth. What if-

Sheriff Scott suddenly pointed his gun at Tom's face.

Sheriff Scott: What are you trying to say? You want to blame my brother for all of this?

Tom Huddle: Jesus Christ Jake! Put the gun down!

Sheriff Scott: This is my town Tom. It belongs to me and my brother. We allowed you to run your business, because we had that understanding. You're not going soft on me now are you?

Tom Huddle: Get the gun out of my face.

Sheriff Scott: I think Trevor Blade might have just got another one right here and now. Shot my buddy Tom right in the face. It was tragic. I tried to stop him.

Tom Huddle: This isn't funny.

Sheriff Scott: You're right, it's not. Neither is saying my brother killed anybody. You'll never say that again. Do you understand me? Trevor Blade killed Paul Barlow.

Tom Huddle: R-right. Trevor Blade killed Paul Barlow.

Sheriff Scott: Don't make me do that again Tom. We're supposed to be friends.

Tom Huddle: I got caught up in the heat of the moment.

Sheriff Scott: Aren't we all. Look, you know where he is. Why don't you deal with him. You understand what I mean?

Tom Huddle: What are you going to do?

Sheriff Scott: Take Jane to the hospital of course.

Tom Huddle: Whoa. Wait, she-

Sheriff Scott: I'll take care of her Tom. Jesus, I'm the Sheriff, not a monster.

Tom Huddle: I really think yo-

Sheriff Scott: I said take care of it. Now Tom. Tired of fucking around out here.

Tom Huddle: Fine. Don't you hurt her Jake. Do not hurt that little girl.

Sheriff Scott: I already said I'm going to take care of her! Don't be such a paranoid son of a bitch. You go find that fucker, kill him, or bring him to me so I can do it. I don't care which, but he's dying today.

Tom Huddle: This doesn't feel right Jake. This isn't justice.

Sheriff Scott: This badge says I decide what's justice Tom. Stop wasting time.

Sheriff Scott walked with purpose as he approached Tom's car, quickly opening the passenger side door, and grabbing Jane by the arm.

Jane Barlow: Ow! You're hurting me! What are you doing?

Sheriff Scott: I need you in my car right now. We-uh need to take you to the hospital. Get you a full check up. After that you can tell your story and we'll get it written down. Alright?

Jane Barlow: I want to go with Tom. I want to see Trevor!

Sheriff Scott: He's going to bring him in peacefully, and we'll get this all sort out. Your story really helped. Trust me. Trevor is going to be really glad you found us. Come on.

Jane Barlow: Okay.

Jane hesitantly got into the passenger seat.

Sheriff Scott: You don't want to ride in the back?

Jane Barlow: My Dad said he never wanted to see his little girl in the back of a cop car.

Sheriff Scott: Heh. Yeah, Paul saw enough of that. I truly am sorry Jane. Let's get going.

Jane's story worked. She knew from working on the cars with her Dad, that she'd be trapped in there if she got into the back. The passenger side seating up front, gave her a little more control. She tried to dry her eyes as the Sheriff drove down the dark road.

Sheriff Scott: This has all been one big mess. One big mistake. We should've run that psycho out of town before this happened.

Jane Barlow: I'm telling you, he didn't do it!

Sheriff Scott: Yeah, but you said it was my brother. I really wish you hadn't said that.

Jane Barlow: I swear it was him! He and his hunting buddies tried to kill me too!

Sheriff Scott: Kill you? You think he'd do that! I don't know why you're making these stories up. I hope by the time we get to where we're going, you'll change your tune. I want the truth out of you.

Jane Barlow: It is the truth! He-

Sheriff Scott: Shut up! I don't want to fucking hear it!

Jane Barlow: This isn't the right way.

Sheriff Scott: What?

Jane Barlow: To the hospital. This isn't the right way.

Sheriff Scott: The fuck does a kid know about directions.

Jane Barlow: I know this isn't right. Where are you taking me?

Sheriff Scott: Don't worry about it. It'll be over soon.

Jane Barlow: Where are you taking me?

Sheriff Scott: I said don't worry about it! Listen to me dammit! I'm going to take care of everything!

Jane knew she was in trouble now. She looked to her seat and saw the button to unlock the door. She slowly moved her hands to her seat belt clasp, but she was suddenly startled by the Sheriff.

Sheriff Scott: Stupid little bitch! You couldn't keep your mouth shut could you! My brother is no killer! Even if he was, it doesn't matter! Trevor Blade is the one at fault, and we're going to deal with him! Everyone is going to know that he killed Paul Barlow.

Jane Barlow: Not if I tell them differently.

Sheriff Scott: And that's the problem. You're too stupid to realize it. You're just a dumb little brat. A dumb little brat that doesn't know how to save her own ass!

Jane Barlow: You'd-you'd really kill me?

Sheriff Scott: Maybe you're not that stupid. You've got it figured out already huh? You'd be surprised what I'd do to make sure my brother doesn't go to prison.

Jane Barlow: About that. Your brother, is probably already dead.

Sheriff Scott: What?

The Sheriff slammed on the brakes, which was exactly what the resourceful little girl was hoping for. In a quick action she unbuckled her seat belt, and unlocked the door, quickly running from the car, as the Sheriff grabbed his revolver and gave chase. She screamed as bullets whizzed by. The angry Sheriff continued giving chase, but his screaming sound further and further away as she ran. She thought she was home free, until a sharp burning pain suddenly hit her in the leg. A bullet had grazed her right leg. She tripped and fell down a small hill, quickly climbing under the roots of a partially uplifted tree, growing at an angle on the hill. She closed her mouth with her hand, as tears streamed down her face. The pain was unbearable, like nothing she had ever felt before. She heard his footsteps, as they grew closer. He had out a gun and flashlight, calling out like he was still concerned for her, but ready to shoot and kill her the moment he found her. She held her breath for so long, so felt like she was going to black out, but eventually, a frustrated and panicked Sheriff Scott walked away.

Elsewhere, Trevor took all of the hunter's guns and weapons, and tossed them to the bottom of the abandoned house's well. A figure approached and cocked his gun at the sight of it.

Tom Huddle: Bad move Blade.

Trevor Blade: Tom.

Tom Huddle: I didn't figure a soldier would get rid of all of his weapons like that, especially when the war's not over.

Trevor Blade: A solider only carries what he needs to survive.

Trevor revealed that he still had a revolver, which he opened, removing five of the six shots.

Trevor Blade: I didn't kill Paul. I didn't do it Tom.

Tom Huddle: What about everything since?

Trevor Blade: Oh I did that, and more. I killed Richard Scott, and your other "employees".

Tom Huddle: I guess Jake was right about you then.

Trevor Blade: Did he call me a killer? Yeah, he's probably right, but Richard Scott had killed Paul He nearly killed Julie. He tried to kill Jane. He set one of his freaks on her, and he tried to rape her Tom. They were bad people that do bad things. Compared to them, I'm a saint. They got what they had coming to them, with interest.

Tom Huddle: You seem sure of yourself now Trevor.

Trevor Blade: I guess that's what I came here for.

Tom Huddle: Fresh air, sunshine, clarity, and a pile of bodies?

Trevor Blade: I didn't want trouble.

Tom Huddle: You did. You couldn't wait to get involved.

Trevor Blade: What's done is done. What matters is what we do here and now.

Tom started removing the ammo from his gun, leaving one cartridge in the shotgun.

Tom Huddle: I told you before that if something else happened between you and the Sheriff's brother, or if you tried to do anything else to stop my business, you knew what side I was going to be on.

Trevor Blade: Right. And I said those are the odds Tom. One day you've got a friend, and the next day he might be your enemy.

The two stood in the silence, both aware that they found themselves in a stand off. One moment it was eerily quiet, and then the next the two men jumped to action, firing as quickly as they could. Blade narrowly avoided yet another gun shot wound, but his Tom was taken to the ground with a round to the knee. He fell in agony.

Tom Huddle: You son of a bitch. You already know that I got a bad knee!

Trevor Blade: I could've given you a match pair Tom.

Tom Huddle: Fuck. Go ahead and do it.

Trevor Blade: Do it?

Tom Huddle: Kill me.

Trevor put the bullets back into the revolver, but placed it back into his belt, offering a hand instead.

Trevor Blade: I'm not going to kill you Tom.

Tom Huddle: What?

Trevor Blade: Take my hand. Let's get the fuck out these woods.

Tom Huddle: I don't understand you.

Trevor Blade: I think you do. Do you really think I killed Paul?

Tom Huddle: No, I guess I don't. The Sheriff, really wanted to hammer home the issue. I guess I just don't have the spine to deal with it.

Trevor Blade: Here, lean against me. How far is your car?

Tom Huddle: Not too far from here, but Trevor I think there could be other trouble. The Sheriff, he went to get Jane. He said he was going to take her to the hospital, but now, I'm not so sure.

Trevor Blade: We have to go now.

Practically carrying his old friend back to the car, like a downed solider in the muck of  'Nam, Blade seemed to forget about his own injuries, that were still leaking blood. He fought off the weariness, and let the adrenaline and the pulsing anger push him forward. They took off down the country back roads while listening to the CB radio in Tom's car.

Tom Huddle: Trevor, I'm sorry. I just-

Trevor Blade: I know Tom. It's all right. I got it.

Tom Huddle: Just like when we were kids. I'd pull a prank, or start a fight, and any time I came to apologize, you made it too damn easy.

Trevor Blade: Well you were my friend.

Tom Huddle: Right. I-

Suddenly, they heard a voice on the CB Radio.

Sheriff Scott: *over the CB* This is the Sheriff. I'm back at HQ, but you boys keep on the search. I'll back out there shortly.

Trevor suddenly made a hard left turn, towards town.

Tom Huddle: You're going to him?

Trevor Blade: That's right.

They were both aware that Blade's gun had fallen out of his belt with the turn, and was now closer to Tom.

Trevor Blade: You could stop me.

Tom Huddle: No. No I'll stay out of your way on this one. I owe you that much.

The two drove up to the Sheriff's station, as Sheriff Scott was in a panic inside. He paced back and forth, with his flask in hand, wondering what to do, and if his brother truly was dead. He was suddenly startled, as Tom limped into the station.

Sheriff Scott: Tom? Jesus, you look like shi-

Tom Huddle: Just answer me one thing Jake. Do you think this manhunt was worth it? Injured men. Dead men. Where is Jane? Was it all worth it to protect your deadbeat brother? I'll tell you one thing, it hasn't been for me. Was it worth it?

Sheriff Scott: Heh. Worth it? Who fucking cares Tom? What I saw will always matter, as long as I carry this badge and-

Suddenly, Trevor Blade stepped into the room. Jake's eyes widened as he pulled out the revolved and shot Jake through forehead, killing him instantly.

Tom Huddle: Whoa! Trevor! Why?

Trevor Blade: I told you he was right about me. I am a killer.

Tom Huddle: But, he didn't-

Trevor Blade: What? Get to lie his way out of responsibility? He didn't get to abuse his power for his own ends? No, no he did not. He didn't get a fancy farewell. No goodbyes. No parting words worth hearing. He got what he fucking deserved. That's what I do Tom. That's what I tried running from. I'm not doing that anymore. The question is, what are you going to do about it?

The two stood in silence for several moments, before stepping outside. Trevor tossed the gun to the ground and looked up at the stars.

Trevor Blade: Do what you've got to do.

Tom looked down at the gun, but then they both heard a faint voice in the distance. They turned to see little Jane Barlow limping out of the trees towards them. A relived Trevor ran to her, and picked her up, holding her closely. Tom felt relief himself, like a horrible mistake he had made had not cost an innocent life. Seeing her in that state, he knew Jake had tried to kill her, and in that moment he supported Blade's action one hundred percent.

Days later...

A heavily bandaged Trevor Blade packed up his truck with what little of his belongings he could get from the burnt out cabin. Suddenly, a car pulled up, with Tom Huddle bringing Julie Redden and Jane Barlow to see Trevor one last time.

Trevor Blade: Julie, I'm so glad you're all right. I would have come to see you but-

Julie Redden: I understand. Tom told me everything.

Trevor Blade: I'm not exactly welcome here anymore.

Tom Huddle: Yeah, well that'll happen when you kill half the town Blade, but don't worry, they think you're dead too. I get to be the local hero who put down the sick war dog. Living that lie will be the price I have to pay.

Trevor Blade: Thanks for everything Tom.

Tom Huddle: Least I could do. I hope you can forgive me.

The two shook hands, before Tom returned to the car, to let Julie and Jane say goodbye.

Jane Barlow: I'm going to miss you so much.

Trevor Blade: Me too kid, but don't worry, Julie has promised to take good care of you.

Julie Redden: I practically raised her before anyways. We're going to be fine Trevor. I'll made sure she's taken care of for you, and most of all for Paul *sniff* I wish you didn't have to go. Where are you even going to go?

Trevor Blade: Back to the New York City. I'm ready now. I'm ready to do my job.

Julie Redden: Your job?

Trevor Blade: I became like this, because they made me. Now, I stay this way, because I choose to.

Julie gave him one last kiss.

Julie Redden: Please take care of yourself.

Trevor Blade: I'll try my best. Oh, and before I forget.

Trevor rounded his truck, and came back pulling on a leash, with Bambi at the other end.

Jane Barlow: *gasp* Bambi!

Trevor Blade: Look who I found looking for me. Can I count on you to take care of Bambi for me?

Jane Barlow: Of course!

Julie Redden: I'll need to stock up on cereal at the store I guess.

Trevor Blade: Heh. Thank you both. I'll never forget you.

Jane Barlow: Bye Trevor. *sniff*

Julie Redden: You know where to find me, if you get lost again Trevor Blade. Don't be shy now.

Trevor nodded one final time to Tom in his car, before settling behind the wheel of the old family truck. It cranked the ignition, and it came to life, sounding brand new. That Paul Barlow knew his stuff. Swallowing his sadness, Blade waved goodbye again and drove of. Not looking back. He was on his way back to New York City. Back to the city that took everything from him. He had a new lease on life, and a purpose. Anyone that got in the way would be in trouble, because Blade was coming home.

Last edited by Machismo (4/25/2021 5:54 pm)

New York City - 1984

Trevor Blade's Mustang pulled up from around the corner to a grizzly crime scene. The splayed open body of a young girl, and her friends, crying over the horrible display.

Trevor Blade: ...Fuck.

Police Officer: Sir, back away from-

Trevor Blade: Detective Trevor Blade.

Police Officer: Oh sorry sir.

Trevor Blade: What the hell happened here?

Police Officer: Poor young woman in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Trevor Blade: I guess so, but that's really fucking over simplified don't you think? I could use details. Thrill me.

Police Officer: Well, the victim was-

Trevor lit a cigarette, and breathed in the fire, as he took in the horrible sight. The voice of the officer faded in the background. He could hear it, but at the same time the sight was taking Blade away in his. It brought back memories, disturbing memories of 'Nam, where the Vietcong, would cut open soldiers, castrate them, and put their organs into their mouths, as a warning. Young soldiers, who had never seen such horrors were subjected to the sight near daily. Now, it was staring him in the face in New York City.

Trevor Blade: What a mess. Why the hell do we have so many people so close to the scene? Get them to back off.

Police Officer: We don't have enough men to-

Trevor Blade: Of course we don't. People, I'm going to need you all to back o-

Ashley Blair: Please no. I-I need to be here.

Trevor Blade: What? Kid, you don't want to be seeing thi-

Ashley Blair: She was my friend! I was just with her.

Trevor Blade: The hell? This is a witness? Why the hell are you not being questioned already? Officer?

Police Officer: Like I said, we don't have enough men.

Blade rubbed his temples in frustration, as he lead Ashley away from the scene, Sammantha in tow.

Trevor Blade: Is she with you?

Ashley Blair: She's my sister.

Trevor Blade: I need to ask you both questions.

Ashley Blair: That's not a problem, but my sister is deaf so-

Trevor Blade: Great.

Ashley Blair: She can read lips though, and I'll translate if need be.

Trevor Blade: You seem to be taking this really well. You said that's your friend over there?

Ashley Blair: I'm angry Officer-

Trevor Blade: Detective. Detective Trevor Blade.

Ashley Blair: Blade? That sounds familiar. Trevor Blade.

Trevor Blade: Did you see anything? Anything at all?

Ashley Blair: We walked away. She was heading home.

Trevor Blade: By herself? Around here?

Ashley Blair: We don't really have a choice when this is where we live now do we? She left, and it was minutes later we heard screaming. Whoever did this was so fast. I didn't see anything that happened, just before and after.

Trevor Blade: They were quick you say? That would mean he had her picked out. Did you see anyone following you?

Ashley Blair: A lot of people follow us.

Trevor really took sight of the woman in front of him for the first time. She was a little older than he'd originally thought. College age from the looks of it. The worst possible time and place to notice how attractive she was though. He'd had a hard time getting reacquainted with right place and right time. He put the thought out of his head.

Trevor Blade: I can uh, see why, but anyone stand out? Anyone out of ordinary?

Ashley Blair: I really wish I could help you. I've really trying to think. My mind has been racing. I'm so mad. If only I would have been there!

Trevor Blade: They might have killed you too.

Ashley Blair: You don't know what I'm capable of. I wish they would have gotten a chance to find out.

Trevor Blade: Yeah well, I'd rather you girls stay safe.

Ashley Blair: Safe?

Ashley pulled a large combat knife out of her bag.

Ashley Blair: See this? I do know how to use it.

Trevor Blade: That's great, but maybe don't pull a weapon on a cop? Wait, that's standard issue military isn't it?

Ashley Blair: Family hand me down.

Trevor Blade: I get the feeling you want to handle this yourself, but I think I need to make sure you get home safely, without anymore trouble. I'll drive you home. Officer, guard the scene and get pictures.

Police Officer: I'd really rather not have to do this myself.

Trevor Blade: Oh, I'm sure of that, but you see they need an escort, and we're short of man power. Remember?

Police Officer: I-

The officer sighed, resigned to his fate, as Blade opened the door to his car for his passengers. Samantha timidly looked around, before Ashley assured her she could get into the car. Ashley held back tears, trying to remain strong. The shock was beginning to settle in. The real horror of it. It reminded her of a horrible sight she had seen in her childhood. A sight she'd rather forget, but a sight burned into her memory.

Trevor Blade: You mind if I smoke?

Ashley Blair: No.

Trevor Blade: Her? Samantha right? You mind?

Samantha Blair: *nods no*

Trevor Blade: Thanks. Let's get you home. Lead the way.

As they drove in silence, Trevor reached for the dial on his radio, before Ashley began to speak.

Ashley Blair: How can you possibly do your job?

Trevor Blade: Excuse me?

Ashley Blair: I guess you must just get numb to it huh? Kimmie was my friend. A true friend. You don't many of those in the world, but she was one of them. I feel like-like I'm on the verge of falling apart. You have to see this sort of thing almost everyday. You must be numb to it.

Trevor Blade: Numb? In a way I guess, but not in the way you think. I find ways to cope.

Ashley Blair: You don't have to placate me. You don't even have to give us a ride. You're a cop, not a counselor. Why don't you just let us out here.

Trevor Blade: This is more about my piece of mind too. I don't feel like seeing another young corpse tonight. I'm sorry, that's out of line, but-

Ashley Blair: I get it, but I can handle myself.

Trevor Blade: I'm sure you can, but let's try to remember that cop part. I can't have you going on the street hunting for some psychopath. I see that when I look at you. I can tell. You want to go look. You want to hunt? Not the best idea.

Ashley Blair: There'd be one less psychopath if I found him. Someone out there has been doing it you know? The guy that kills the bad guys.

Trevor Blade: I've heard.

Ashley Blair: Wouldn't that make your job easier?

Trevor Blade: It'd be illegal. Don't get your hands dirty. Guys like me, we get our hands dirty so you don't have to.

Ashley Blair: What about that vigilante?

Trevor Blade: His are too dirty.

Ashley Blair: You think he gives a shit?

Trevor Blade: No. No, I suppose he doesn't.




Trevor turned on the radio and sped up a little. Not too far from them, he walked the night, looking at all the fresh, young faces around him. The man covered his face in a hood, and concealed himself with a trench coat. He made certain to bump into the prettiest girls. He wanted to touch them, to feel them, and smell them. Every time one of them turned to confront him, he'd become timid, putting on a facade of shyness as he bit his thumb nail, exposing his cleft lip. He'd apologize, but by this point, he had gotten what he'd wanted, and judged their scent, and their light. He demanded purity. The passenger demanded purity. The man made his way back to his apartment. He kept his head down as he passed by his neighbors, up to the fourth floor of the shoddy building. A rat ran by as he pulled out his keys to open each of the locks he kept on his door. Tight security for such an old, busted door. Once inside his dimly lit house he placed even more security on the door, before pulling a disgusting looking container from his cabinet. He produced a lock of a young girl's hair from his pocket and placed it with the others in the container. He took in a long smell, and felt himself surrounded in their innocence and light. His eyes rolled back into his head, as if high on drugs. He put the hair back, before walking through his house, removing all of his clothing, as he walked by photos and newspaper clippings all over the floor. He stood completely naked in the moonlight, basking in the light as it exposed his disfigured face, pale lanky body, and self inflicted scars. He head a thud to his left, and looked to his bed, where a chest began to move underneath. He dragged the chest out into the open and unlocked it, showing a terrified and crying young woman.

?: Shhhh....your light....your purity. We musn't let it escape. That wouldn't be acceptable.

She managed to pull off the tape on her face just enough to scream.

Kidnapped Girl: HELP! PLEASE HE-

He put a knife to her throat and and clasped his boney fingers over her mouth.

?: I said shhhhhh.

Kidnapped Girl: Fuck you! You're a fucking psychopath!

?: That-that is not true. I am a visionary, in search of the light, and yours is shedding. Yours is shedding quickly. Do not let that happen. He won't like it. Do not do that!

Kidnapped Girl: Fuck you! Fucking let me g-

?: You were warned!

The twisted man punched her repeatedly in the throat, before kissing her hard. He bit into her flesh, and ripped her lips away, placing more tape on her mouth as she scream in agony.

?: No lips to speak. Speak no evil. Shhhhh.

He closed the lid as she tried to scream and flail. The man pushed the chest back under his bed, before returning to his trench coat. He removed several items from a pocket, apparently items that belonged to Kimmie. He held up a picture of Kimmie, posing with Ashley and Samantha. He licked the picture as his eyes rolled back once again. He lay with in on his chest, clutching it like a prized possession, as the kicking and screaming of his trapped victim was muffled enough to keep anyone from finding her, but just loud and strong enough to lull the man to sleep.

Detective Blade returned to his precinct to check in. After he was deemed the hero that brought the "Cop Killer" to justice, he was given a wide berth to essentially do his job, but it also allowed him to do things his way. Still, he had to come back in to get his head out of the water and take a breath of that fresh smoke filled air like his Chief often requested. He drank so stale coffee before heading to his desk, which had a layer of dust forming, and a stack of paperwork in need of filling out. As he was about sit, he heard a voice.

Chief Roma: Hey Blade, good to see you're still alive with my own eyes for a change. Since you came back, I barely see ya.

Trevor Blade: Work keeps me busy Chief. You been out there lately?

Chief Roma: Tell me about it. Listen Blade, I'm glad you're here, because it just so happens, we have a visitor that would very much like to speak with you.

Trevor Blade: They're here now? Is that right? Well don't let me keep him waiting.

Blade intentionally brushed the paperwork into the trashcan as he walked by his desk to the Chief's office.

Chief Roma: You're going to have to fill that shit out eventually Blade.

Trevor Blade: Uh-huh. New after shave Chief? It stinks.

Chief Roma: Yeah, so I've been told. Blade, this is Detective John Angel.

John Angel: No need for the formalities though. John is just fine, though some people call me "Tack".

Trevor Blade: Is that right? Now why is that?

John Angel: Guess I'm a pain in the ass Blade.

Trevor Blade: Because you're IA right?

John Angel: That's right. I know Internal Affairs isn't the most loved department, but it's vital none the less.

Trevor Blade: You'd know more about that than me I guess.

Chief Roma: I'm going to have a smoke outside. I'll leave the office to you Detective Angel.

John Angel: Thank you Chief. Appreciated. So have a seat. You look exhausted.

Trevor Blade: I don't sleep much.

John Angel: I see. Blade, I'm a cop much like yourself, and I don't want you to immediately assume the worst since I'm here. I'm just trying to cover all my bases, and you seem like the person to talk to. You're the man that stopped the "Cop Killer" after all.

Trevor Blade: No need to bring it up. No need to act like it was a big thing. They gave me the medal and the hand shake. I'm just glad he's dead.

John Angel: Yes, he is dead, thanks to you. I've noticed that about you Blade. You find yourself in a lot of incidents, where the perps end up dead.

Trevor Blade: I find myself in the crossfire a lot. These fuckers have bigger guns than we do, and they've got the numbers. Sometimes we don't have as much of a choice as you'd like.

John Angel: As much as I'd like. Right. I just want to show you a few pictures. Would you mind looking at them for me?

Detective Angel put down photographs of the punk that Blade had killed days earlier. The missing ear and the broken teeth were prominently in focus.

John Angel: Do you remember this crime scene?

Trevor Blade: Yeah, it was just a couple days ago. Not hard to remember. This dude resisted and opened fire. I responded, and just in time too, because he was going to-

John Angel: I know the details. It seems on the up and up.

Trevor Blade: Seems?

John Angel: Well, the gun shot to the shoulder, the missing ear, and the knocked out teeth. They concern me. Seems a bit brutal to me.

Trevor Blade: Our job is brutal.

John Angel: Right. I just, have this quirk. I pay attention to details and patterns, and I see a lot of kills recently matching this type of MO. The look of an escalating man. Now, maybe it's a coincidence, but maybe not. I'm trying to put the pieces together. I think if I showed you some more photos you might have some insight.

Trevor Blade: You mean you're not coming in here trying to jam me up?

John Angel: What? Why would you think that?

Trevor Blade: You're here right now. That's reason enough. I barely come back to HQ, but when I do, it's on a routine. For you to know I was going to be here, you would have had to know that routine.

John Angel: You don't think it was just a lucky guess?

Trevor Blade: Absolutely not. That's why, and you'll have to forgive me for this, I'm a bit suspicious of your intentions.

John Angel: You have no reason to be, unless I have reason to be suspicious of you.

Trevor Blade: I'm just out there doing my job. It keeps me focused. Keeps me motivated. I don't need to get jammed up by IA. I see guys like you, I immediately assume the worse. You fuckers tend to make careers disappear.

John Angel: Only if they have it coming. I just want to figure out what's going on out there. These are kills happening to guys who have a rap sheet a mile long. It could be creeps killing creeps, or it could have something to do with that killer out there right now. I'm sure you've heard about him.

Trevor Blade: The one they're calling the "Purity Killer"?

John Angel: That's right. He butchers the "unclean", and takes the "pure", abducts them, and apparently does some horrifying things to them over a period of time. It's so messed up, it's got people wondering why the hell they ever feared the Son of Sam, when you've got a psycho like this on the streets. You've got an eye for the more visceral part of the job. If you could keep an eye open, and help me out, I would appreciate it.

Trevor Blade: John, that makes no fucking sense. You're IA, and I'm not stupid. You don't investigate murderers unless they've got a badge.

John Angel: That's true, but I've got a personal interest in this case, and a personal interest in you Detective Blade. I hope we can speak more soon, but I have to be going.

John Angel extended his hand, and Blade slowly reached out to shake it. The IA Detective had a confident smile as he nodded his head to Blade and grabbed his coat. On the way out, he turned to Blade.

John Angel: Oh, by the way, I'm going to be traveling to upstate New York when I get my leave time. I thought I might head up to River's Bend. I hear you're from there. How's the fishing?

Trevor Blade: River's Bend? Honestly, it's lousy. Middle of nowhere. Why would you want to go there?

John Angel: Like I said, fishing. That's fine though, because I like to hunt too. Until next time Detective. I'll keep in touch.

Later that night, Ashley Blair was in her shower, letting the water wash over her. The images still flooding her mind, of the night her friend was murdered. She wanted revenge. As she left the shower, and wrapped a towel around herself, she looked out the window to see a suspicious black vehicle parked outside. As if noticing she was watching, the car started up and slowly drove away. She tried to ignore it, heading into the kitchen. On the table, the paper spoke about the "Purity Killer". Apparently Kimmie was his latest victim. Hell of a way to find out, through the newspaper. She fumbled around Detective Blade's card in her hand, as she suddenly heard snoring. Her mother had fallen asleep in her chair watching television. One of her few nights off, and all she could do was sleep. Ashley pushed back the recliner and covered her in a blanket. She went to her room to get dressed, but as she looked out of her window, she noticed the car was still outside. She saw it slowly moving away, but now she wasn't able to shake it off. She quickly got dressed, grabbed a pair of brass knuckles from her top dresser drawer, and quickly descended the stairs to go down to the street.

Elsewhere, Trevor Blade was driving around the city, trying to put Detective Angel out of his mind. "Tack" he called himself. Truly a pain in the ass. Suddenly, he heard screaming from the alley. He hit the brakes and quickly left his vehicle with his gun drawn. He saw a gruff and unkempt man battering a smaller, meek man on the street.

Gruff man: I want my fucking money! You don't get this shit for free! You know better mother fucker, and I swear, I'm going to kill you if you don't give me everything you've got right now-

A gunshot echoed through the alley, as Blade's gun fired, sending a bullet into the shoulder of the Gruff drug dealer. The other man quickly ran off, as Blade approached the dealer, kicking the gun out of his reach in the process.

Trevor Blade: You think you can just sell that shit on my streets? Don't move. I said don't move.

Blade looked down to see a crucifix fall out of the man's shirt.

Trevor Blade: Do you believe in Jesus?

Gruff man: Y-yes sir! Yes I do!

Trevor Blade: Well, you're going to meet him.

Trevor put the gun to the man's head, but suddenly, he heard the other gun picked up behind him. He turned to see a small child holding the gun.

Child: D-don't hurt my Dad!

Trevor Blade: What? You brought your kid? You brought your fucking kid!

Gruff man: Don't you fucking hurt him!

Trevor Blade: You brought your damn kid! Dammit! Get the fuck out of here now!

The man quickly stumbled off the ground, clutching his shoulder as he grabbed his kid and ran off. Blade's head swirled with memories of the past. The vision of 'Nam flooded his mind, and the dead children haunted him. Suddenly, his hands were shaking, like he was right back in the jungle. A well spring of anguish and agony burst forth, as Blade fell back against a bring wall. He elbowed the wall and bashed his head against it, before pulling out his gun again. He thought held the gun close and thought about putting the gun in his mouth, when another voice suddenly pulled him out of his stupor.

Ashley Blair: Detective Blade?

Ashley Blair tried to be as quiet as possible when coming home the next morning. She didn't have to worry about waking Samantha, but her mother on the other hand, might actually be getting some sleep. However, she quickly found that wasn't the case, when Darlene Blair blocked her path.

Darlene Blair: Where have you been? I was worried sick about you!

Ashley Blair: I was just out late, and crashed at a friend's place. I'm fine.

Darlene Blair: Crashed at a friend's place? Ash, you're old enough to do whatever you want, but don't lie to me. You go out a lot, but you always come home. I mean do you think I don't know what you're up to when you're out by yourself? I've seen the bruises, and the scrapes, and I know you don't turn tricks.

Ashley Blair: For God's sake Mom.

Darlene Blair: I just need to know that you're being careful, especially considering you were almost butchered the other night!

Ashley Blair: It wasn't me. I wish they would've tried with me, but it wasn't me! It should've been me, because I can handle myself!

Darlene Blair: Handle yourself? I saw what they did to Kimmie! You've got to be kidding me! Handle yourself?

Samantha couldn't hear the arguing, just like she couldn't hear anything else, but she could feel it. She pressed her hands against the wall, and felt the vibrations. She knew when she could feel it in the walls, the two were really having at it. She took her hand away and grabbed at her stuffed bear. A gift from Ashley when they were a lot younger, it was still of comfort to her, when she felt overcome by being such a burden on her family. She looked out the window, clutching her bear tightly. She saw a Camero sitting idly across the street. A figure just out of sight seemed to be watching her, but just as quickly drove off after sharing a stare that sent shivers down Samantha's spine.

Darlene Blair: Don't say shit like that! You and Sammy are the only two I have left in the world.

Ashley Blair: I'm-I'm sorry Mom. It was nothing too dangerous. I was just-just out with a guy. Yeah, I met someone, more or less.

Darlene Blair: More or less? Whom?

At the police station, Blade was rubbing his neck, as the vending machine finished producing the horrible coffee. He needed it no matter how badly it tasted. He hadn't gotten very much sleep. He went to his office, and pulled swallowed some pills with the coffee as the Chief walked in behind him.

Trevor Blade: Do you ever go home Chief?

Chief Roma: Do you? Christ, you look like you slept in your car, if you slept at all.

Trevor Blade: Plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead. Right now, I just need to clear my head. This Purity Killer is just roaming freely out there.

Chief Roma: I hear we might have had a sighting last night.

Trevor Blade: Is that right?

Chief Roma: At the Neon Kitty Club.

Trevor Blade: No shit? That doesn't really fit with the pattern though does it? He's looking for pure women. That is unless he's looking to carve away the "tainted" ones. Wait, how do we know it was him? Someone get killed? Almost killed? Do we have an eye witness?

Chief Roma: This was just passed onto my desk from that guy you spoke to from Internal Affairs. John Angel I think? Yeah, that's it. John Angel.

Trevor Blade: Him? How'd he know?

Chief Roma: I don't even know what the fuck someone from Internal Affairs is doing getting mixed up in this case. I'm told cooperate, and I don't need another ulcer so I do it. Whatever gets them off my back.

Trevor Blade: Right.

Chief Roma: That girl from a few nights back was just one of at least eight so far, and we've got too many missing persons cases that fit the description, and it's all happening right here in our district. I need a cigarette Blade. You got one?

Trevor Blade: Sure? Although, I doubt it's help those ulcers.

Chief Roma: Fuck it, I need the nicotine.

Trevor laughed a little and pulled our two cigarettes for himself and Roma. He lit the Chief's cigarette, but before he could light his own, a patrolman rushed into the office.

Young Officer: Sir! Uh..Sirs! We have a situation.

Chief Roma: Well shit son, don't stare at me with your mouth hanging open. What is it?

Young Officer: They just found another body!

Chief Roma: Son of a bitch.

Trevor Blade: Fuck.

Blade the threw his cigarette at the desk and rushed out of the office. Mere blocks down the road, the crime scene looked grizzly. A few reporters were being ushered back as Chief Roma and Detective Blade made it to the scene.

Chief Roma: This close to the station? This sick fuck is toying with us now.

Trevor Blade: Now mistaking it. The way she's been splayed open like that. I guess he thinks she "purified" now. Sick fucking piece of shit.

The rage was building in Blade, and the sound began to fade. He calmed his breathing, and tried to pull himself back, but already he was feeling the intense urge to gut the man the way he gut his victims. He quickly looked around, wondering if this was a message to him, and if they were still watching, but as he scanned all he found was a familiar face in Detective John Angel approaching him.

John Angel: So, it happened again huh?

Trevor Blade: How'd you get here so quickly.

John Angel: I was already on the way back to the station. I wanted to have a word with you about the case, but I wasn't expecting this, and so close to the station too. Definitely sending a message with this one.

Trevor Blade: Yeah, it looks that way, doesn't it?

Blade cocked a curious eyebrow at Angel, as he approached the Chief.

John Angel: Quite the grizzly scene. The way he tortures the victims. It's horrific. I can hardly stand to look at it.

Chief Roma: Is that why good cops go to Internal Affairs? So they don't have to look at this shit?

John Angel: Something like that. I know this is the worst possible time, but might I borrow Detective Blade?

Chief Roma: Now? Can't it wait?

John Angel: If you'll look at the body in front of you, you'll see that no, it can't wait. Please send over a copy of the autopsy report when you get it?

Chief Roma: I gotta ask. Why the hell are you so interested in this case? You go after cops, no offense.

John Angel: None taken. I get that a lot. Well Chief, I'm dealing with another case, and I think our two cases, just might be related.

Chief Roma: Well shit, do what you got to do. I need to get this press out of here, or city hall is going to have my fucking hide! Get them out of here guys! What the fuck are you doing?

John Angel: Detective Blade, come with me please. We need to take a little drive.

Trevor Blade: I need to stay here and deal with this shit!

John Angel: I was asking nice as a courtesy. I don't want to get into this here. I'll ask again, as a courtesy. Please come with me.

Trevor Blade: Fine.

Blade was apprehensive as John Angel quietly drove the car. He reached into his jacket pocket, grazing his gun, as he grabbed his pack of cigarettes. He put one in his mouth.

Trevor Blade: Mind if I smoke?

John Angel: Honestly, I'd rather you not. I don't want the smoke and smell trapped in the leather interior. You understand right?

Trevor Blade: Of course.

John Angel: You look on edge Blade. Not sleeping enough?

Trevor Blade: Something like that. Maybe it has to do with with body we just saw in the alley though. What do you think?

John Angel: I think it's horrible. The carvings in the skin. They're Latin I've found out. He thinks he's performing some of purification ritual. I think he believes his own body purifies them. He's obsessed with it. Purifying women, and treasuring those few he deems as pure, until he finds a flaw. From the bodies we can tell that some of them were trapped by him for long periods of time.

Trevor Blade: How can you tell that?

John Angel: Hair and nail growth for starters. Little signs that something isn't quite right. That's what I'm best at by the way. I pick through the little details. Coincidences rarely are in fact coincidences. You catch my meaning?

Trevor Blade: Sure.

John Angel: I'm going to give you an example. Another killer the force has been tracking down. The so called "Vigilante Killer" that torched that "chicken joint" a few years back, killed a Senator in the process. Grizzly stuff. His murders brought down the number of other murders according to statistics, but because he was murdering himself, the number remained constant. Funny right?

Trevor Blade: Not especially.

John Angel: Then he seems to stop for a while, and the numbers go back to normal, well it increases yearly, but that's just the world we live in right? Out of nowhere, it's like he starts up again, and the numbers tell the same story. I think I can pinpoint the moment he stopped and restarted, based on who he killed and how he killed them.

Trevor Blade: Yeah, but you're IA. You seem awfully invested in this case we're on, and that vigilante case. I really want to know why?

John Angel: We're investigating me now?

Trevor Blade: I didn't know I was under investigation. I thought you wanted my assistance.

John Angel: I'm IA Blade. I'm investigating all cops, all the time. Heh, isn't that what they say about me?

Trevor Blade: They say a lot.

John Angel: I'm sure you have too.

Trevor Blade: You guys get in the way sometimes. You keep us from doing our jobs, but that's your job. It is what it is.

John Angel: It is what it is. Quite right. That's what my old mentor tried to tell me. I was just going to be doing my job to the best of my ability. He encouraged me to take the transfer, and I was happy to do it. You met Detective Dalton right? When he was still alive I mean of course.

Trevor Blade: Dalton?

Blade's mind flooded back to that night on the ship, where he was going to turn himself in to Dalton, when he was suddenly killed in front of him.

Trevor Blade: I've saw him around.

John Angel: Yeah. He was working the vigilante killer case in the early days. Then he gets killed, and his file goes missing.

Blade thought back to the bleeding and dying Dalton handing him the file that he later torched.

John Angel: Made me think it was an inside job right then and there. Been trying to put the pieces together ever since, and I started wondering if the vigilante killer and the purity killer were one and the same.

Trevor Blade: What?

John Angel: What does it take for a man to suddenly snap in the first place? Intense trauma I'm guessing. Where does it stop? How far will someone go? We still have no idea.

Trevor Blade: Seems far fetched. I don't think it fits. One is blowing away scum bags, and the other is going after innocent women and girls.

John Angel: What defines a "scum bag" though?

Trevor Blade: I get the theory and all, but more like it's someone who is meticulous and studious. Someone who is very good at watching others, and taking their time to do what they've got to do. He's precise. The vigilante is more like a blunt force object. Two different styles.

John Angel: Perhaps.

Blade as beginning to put pieces together himself, about the case, and the man who was currently driving him to an unknown destination. The car pulled into a dark and mostly empty parking garage. By the time they got there, Blade's suspicions about Angel were peaking. He seemed to be trying to connect two different killers, but why, unless he knew who one was, and actually was the other one. As they left the vehicle Blade reached into his jacket, and held onto his gun. The rage was beginning to swell again. Angel was talking, but he wasn't hearing it anymore. Was this the guy torturing all these innocent girls? What if he was wrong? Could he take the risk? John walked with his back to Blade, as Trevor pulled the gun out and pointed it directly at the back of Angel's head. He silently cocked back the hammer, and put his finger on the trigger. No one was around. It would be over in a second.

John Angel: I want to thank you for coming here Trevor, but I have to admit, I was not completely honest with my intentions. I did say you could help me with this case, but that's only because I believe you're the prime suspect, and I want answers now.

John quickly turned around, and had his gun out as well. He pointed his gun at Trevor's face, as Trevor's gun was pointed at his, both men surprised at the situation they suddenly found themselves in.

Last edited by Machismo (5/16/2022 12:42 am)