The Ghost Man (May contain violence inappropriate for kids)

[Menatolo]

This hadn't gone the way he'd planned. Why would it have? How many people have actually been able to assassinate The Ketua of Menatolo? None, obviously. So what made him think that he could. Vanity? Intelligence? No. Somewhere, deep inside, he knew he couldn't do this. It was a thoughtless attack of rage. A very well calculated and planned, thoughtless attack of rage to be fair. It was the perfect plan but that stupid grunt screwed everything up! Though "Tank" had screwed up the plan somehow it was Solomon who took the fall. He wondered if his team were going to come back to save him... probably not.

A large guard of Mexican heritage jerked Solomon's head back by pulling on his long black hair. Solomon stared forward into the setting sun. It was bright and warm. Too warm. A burst of sweat broke from his forehead and trickled down his chiselled, tan face. His eyes squinted as the dust of the wasteland rushed into his face. A small but very distinct tear rolled down his face. He knew how brutal Menatolian punishments were. And treason was a crime with unknown punishment. The sun started to descend quicker and darkness began to sweep over the barren land. The Menatolian guards began lighting their torches. The rope that tied his hands began to cut, and make him bleed. He'd struggle, but he'd just gotten too tired. He decided to accept his fate. The guard pushed him to his knees.

On the opposite side of the chasm was a tent. Two guards, who looked like they were from Menatolian Suburbia stood guard. Apparently, by helping with executions like this, the un-wealthy soldiers get promoted and The Ketua doesn't get liberals hassling his army for torture and execution. So everybody wins, well except the person being executed. The tent doors opened revealing a tall handsome man, with jet black hair and bright blue eyes that shone in the torch light. He wore a dark suit, white shirt and black tie. As he straightened his cuff links he began to speak. His voice strong and powerful. It seemed to grab everyone's undivided attention in a matter of words.
"You know why you're here don't you?" Said The Ketua calmly. Solomon remained silent. Clouds began to form over head. The Ketua paused, his eyes strangely showed compassion for the mans life, but mercilessness for his actions. "I must do this. To set an example for everyone else. I am a God in this city. And no-one can over throw me. No one." His voice was calm but sharp. He took a deep breath. The clouds burst and water rained down from the sky. "Do you have any last words? Don't bother telling me about your comrades. I'll find them. And I will kill them. I always do." His voice was full of hate now. Any ideas of showing sympathy to Solomon were now gone. The kneeling man remained silent. Still and motionless. "Let's see how much of a man you are. Let's see if you can endure the pain. Or let fear take control on the way down." Solomon closed his eyes and replied with a strong tone that could almost match The Ketua's own. It remained calm as he'd already accepted his fate. "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." The Ketua's eyes lit alight with rage.
"That's it!" The Ketua shouted. "Your punishment must be more severe! Guard!" He nodded at the guard holding Solomon's hair back. The guard reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out a large rusty screwdriver. The Ketua nodded and then proceeded back into the tent. The guard lifted the screw driver into the air and then plunged it into the eye of Solomon. The helpless man struggled and struggled, screaming in pain and agony. Blood began to spill and pour from the socket. After the first had been removed, the second was also removed in the same horrific procedure. The guard threw the screwdriver onto the group. The eyeballs pierced through like a bloody kebab. The Guard released Solomon's head, stepped back and kicked the body into the chasm below. The assassin, kicking and screaming the whole way down.

Some people say that this event made The Ketua the most feared and brutal man in Austritaria. The death of Solomon left a devastating effect on the people in Menatolian Suburbia. A symbol of hope for the poorer people of the land, humiliated and destroyed, thrown into a bit full of evil beasts and monsters. However, some people say that he was an angel from God. An angel which couldn't be destroyed by evil and that God had protected him from the beats. Some people say that Solomon's team did come back for him and rescued his body from the slow death of the canyon. Some people say that this eyeless man lives on. Seeing without eyes. As the Ghost Man.

[Menatolo]

Hopeville is a city, independent of Menatopia, in Menatolo. No supplies, no troops, nothing. It has it's own militia to protect the people and is run by the people, for the people. It's not a shanty town, nor is it as stunning jewel like Menatopia. It's just, normal. A stunning example of how people can live without the tyranny and corruption of The Ketua. The sun has already started to ascend into the sky when a stranger came into town. He was large. Larger than normal people. He had huge arms and giant muscles which covered his body. His face was simple, he never looked happy or angry, just blank. He had a torn shirt with the writing "T4-NkG" however the "G" was severely faded. He wore no shoes, but did not feel the pain of the ground beneath him. Something was different about this man, he was physically fascinating and had had an aura of passion that followed him wherever he went. He was running towards the hospital in the center of town with an amazing speed which could not be beaten and he was carrying a body.

The doors to the hospital swung open. "My god! What happened?" Asked one of the doctors. The Large man froze. As if he was thinking.
"Fa-Fathe-" but the words had left him. He continued to think.
"Yes, it's me! Father Jacob! You have to help me. What's wrong with him?" Replied the doctor quickly. He had a sense of panic in his voice.
"It Master. He hurt... Bad." The large man said, his voice was deep and slow.
"Give him to me. Give Master to me!" Father Jacob demanded. He was never going to help this person if he couldn't get this clueless man to hand him over. But he did. The large man quickly handed over the body to the doctor. He may not have understood fully what was going on, but he understood it was important to do as the doctor said. Father Jacob examined the body. "Oh... Solomon. What happened to you?" He muttered under his breath as he stood before the unconscious man, his eyes gouged out, with almost every limb broken.

The sun glided over the sky as the day continued. The large man sat in the waiting room, anxiously. Days came and days passed. But he sat there. Waiting. Waiting with loyalty. Or was it really loyalty? Perhaps it was regret... or guilt. Only the large man knew. He sat there, not moving and silently until one day...

"He's OK." Said Father Jacob standing in the doorway. "Well... He's alive at least, and conscious." The large man shuffled his way into the room. He looked at the man lying in the hospital bed, bandages rapped all across his eyes. "M-M--Master?" The large man asked, he voice now soft and quiet. "Tank? Is that... is that you?" Solomon replied. His voice still remained it's strong deep tone, but with a hint of surprise and fear. "Yes Master! It me..." He paused, forgetting his line of speech. He looked down at the writing on his shirt and then remembered. "Tank! It me Master!" Solomon reached his hands up to where his eyes would have been, and felt the bandages which covered them.
"Thank you... Tank. I thought I was dead. I thought you weren't coming. I- I thought..."
"It OK Master. Others told me not to. Bu- But I had to! What is dog without Master?" The large man replied, his voice soft and caring.
"You can't remember anything can you? But you can remember that, what I told you... What is a dog without his master... I forgive you Tank. The Doctor says I can be out of here in a few days. There's much work to be done..."
"Erm... excuse me, I was wondering if I could be of assistance?" The Doctor inquired. "You may need help... adapting to your other senses."
"Jacob, I want you to get rid off all record I was here. The Ketua thinks I'm dead and I want to keep it that way. I will put this right. For my family" Solomon replied, his voice had a chilling tone of determination.
"What we do until then?" Tank asked.
"We wait. We wait until I'm better."

[Menatolo]

Day light began peeking through the window of the hospital room. The light illuminated every object in the room, giving them a majestic glow. But none of this mattered to Solomon any more. I'd had been a long time since he last indulged in the ability of sight. He was sat up in his bed, head upright, rolling his finger across his bible, looking for something from God to let him know everything was going to be fine. He'd been learning braille for a couple weeks now, and it wouldn't be long before he could leave the hospital. A large white male, with short cut blonde hair and dull blues eyes, sulked in the corner waiting for his masters commands. The door opened and the large man raised his head to inspect the visitor. A young woman in a nurse uniform stood at the door. She had long soft, silky hair and greens eyes that glistened in the rising dawn. Behind her was a man. He was tan, skinny and had short black hair. "Excuse me Solomon, we have a visitor for you." Said the nurse, her voice was cheerful and welcoming. Solomon turned his head towards the voice.
"Good, who is it?" His voice had returned to it's normal deep calm tone but it was only masquerading over the fear underneath. He was uncertain about his future. "Solomon... It's me." Replied the skinny man. His voice was a lot more softer than Solomon's and didn't carry the same air of authority either, it lacked confidence. "Tor'k? Brother?" He began to laugh. "It can't possibly be you, can it?"
"But it is my kin... I'll admit, the divine beings have had mercy on you this time..."
"Tor'k, you know I don't believe in these silly myths any more, I found a new faith" Solomon lifted his bible, indicating the new found religion to his brother. "You've strayed afar my kin, but remember the divines will not watch over you forever if you continue on this path... all that waits for you is the Beast of Hell-fire." Tor'k warned him, he was seriously concerned for his brother. "You've even traded in your name, your heritage for this book of nonsense. Just... Think about it, before it's too late."

Tor'k turned and began to make his way out when the nurse interrupted his exit. "Oh, a man named Joel left a message for you earlier... erm what was it again..." The nurse paused and tried to remember the encounter. "He said '2 25' I don't know if that means anything to you. Oh, and you're now free to leave whenever you feel like. That's everything, good bye." She smiled and walked out of the room. All eyes followed her as she left. "What it mean?" The large man in the corner said, breaking his silence. Solomon paused for a second, thinking. Then he finally understood it. "It's all in here." He said, pointing at his bible. "Chapter two, verse five... but of which book..." He began to think again.
"Give it a rest" said Tor'k "There's nothing useful in that book anyway."
"Book have name yes?" Tank asked. "Book have name like man?" Of course! The book of Joel. Solomon flicked through the pages until he got to Joel 2:25. He skimmed his finger across the page and began to grin.
"What is it?" Tor'k asked.
"It's a message brother. The lord has answered my prayers." Solomon lifted his head and looked at his brother. "It says 'I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has taken' "
"That's great, but unless you have a field of crops, I doubt that's going to be any use." As he said this, Tor'k turned and exited the room. Tank looked back at his master. "What mean?" He asked.
" It means, God's going to give me back my land. The land that was taken from me and my ancestors by those fats cats up in Menatopia. It means that there is still hope." He turned to the side and began to get out of bed, his limbs still sore. "Come Tank, there is much to be done..."

[Menatolo]

Solomon clutched his mask in his hands. He felt along the bumps and ridges of it, the smoothness of the thin metal plate. This had happened sooner than he'd thought. Sooner than he'd wanted. He took a deep breath, put the mask on, drew his pistol and proceeded outside the tent.

Gunshots fired all around the small encampment. Helicopters filled the sky, raining lead from above. Solomon's rebels hid behind cover, with poorly made AK-47s. Menatolian soldiers flooded the camp gunning rebels down, some being taken captive. Obviously The Ketua had heard about the Menatolian uprising being lead by The Ghost Man. Rumours had gotten round faster than he'd hoped, and his rebel alliance was only a few days old. He ran to the tent in front of him. He'd gotten used to seeing with his ears now, apparently he was a natural. He took aim at an unsuspecting soldier. BANG, BANG. Once in the chest and another in the head to put him out of his misery. He heard screams behind him. He turned and ran towards the screams, keeping low. Children and mothers who'd followed their husbands to the camp were running whilst being shot at. Solomon took cover once again and then unloaded a few bullets into the soldiers, stopping them dead. He noticed some other rebels on the opposite side of the path. He called to them. "Hey! You two, get these people to safety now!" He shouted whilst reloading. The least he could do was try and lower the civilian casualties. The two rebels nodded and ran after the women and children whilst Solomon provided covering fire. What was Solomon supposed to do now? The place was crawling with military personnel, all shooting on sight and advancing quickly. He pulled out a couple of frags and threw them to help buy himself time. Nope, still nothing. Solomon turned once again and ran towards the main tent. Which was unfortunately towards the enemy. He dived into a small alley to the left, hid there for a few seconds whilst a guard passed. Solomon crouched and moved towards the soldier, he stood up, grabbed the man and slit his throat with a knife. He searched the face, feeling the indents and hair on the face. He felt like he was from African decent. Which means he couldn't have been part of MAF (Menatolian Armed Forces) he must have been a grunt. That explains it, The Ketua usually hires poorer people as grunts in his army. This means that the threat wasn't as bad as he'd thought, but still nevertheless a threat. He stood up again and turned around. "Shi-" A large soldier smashed Solomon in the face with the butt end of his gun. Everything went black.

Solomon started to regain conciousness. The air was colder here, it felt like he was in the back of a truck. His hands and legs were tied, and he could feel the dent of the mask where he was hit pressing against his nose. He must have been taken as a prisoner. Probably for The Ketua to torture him before leaving him to die again. The truck couldn't have been moving fast otherwise it would have been making a lot more noise. Solomon sat and began to pray. But this time he doubted. He doubted his God for the situation he was in, he felt anger towards him. Suddenly gunshots could be heard again. The left side of the truck dropped suddenly as if the tires had been shot. A loud thud came from the left side, followed by what sounded like the doors being ripped from their hinges along with heavy breathing. An abnormally large man moved towards Solomon, picked him up and then jumped out of the vehicle. The man handed on his feet and began to slow down. He placed Solomon on the ground and began firing at the truck again, until it stopped completely. The large man turned towards Solomon. "Master ok?" The man voice was deep and dull.
"How the?" Solomon couldn't even begin to comprehend what just happened.
"You safe now. Must leave. Not safe." Tank said. Solomon nodded.
"I have an idea, we need to get to the harbour. As soon as possible"
"OK." Tank replied beginning to walk in the direction of the nearest town.
"Wait! I'm kind of still tied up here." Solomon screamed.
"Oh..." Tank said. He walked back to his master and began to untie him.
"If we want to start a rebellion we need already trained men! An already made army, someone who hates The Ketua as much as us..."

[Menatolo]

The Ketua straightened out his suit, he wanted to look good for this special occasion. A little adjustment of the tie and he was ready. He proceeded into the elevator of the casino. A quick swipe of his card and the elevator took him to the floor 'B3' even though the control panel said that 'B2' was the lowest it could go. The doors opened and cigar fumes flooded the elevator from the destination floor. The room was dark, with a spot light on a woman. She was on her knees, in the middle of the room. She had her hands tied behind her back and was unable to move. Around her were several 'urban' looking people. They were MAF soldiers from the favelas and they were conversing with one another whilst smoking cigars. "Thanks for the cigars boss!" The leader of the group said. "The boys haven't had anything this fancy since.... I don't know when!" The Ketua smirked slightly before reaching into his shirt pocket and bringing out a handful of Menatolian credits.
"Here you go," The Ketua said handing the money to the men. "You've done good, I put some extra in there just for you. You can go now." The soldiers rushed into the elevator crowding around the money holder like moths to a flame. The Ketua pulled a stool from the corner of the room and placed it in front of the woman. He then pulled out a cigar from his other pocket and lit it. He took in a big puff of smoke, exhaled and then stared at the girl. The woman paid no attention to him, facing the ground so her hair covered her face. "Well, well, well..." He finally said, his voice had an arrogant tone to it. "Here we are... finally." Still no response from the woman. "I suppose you know why you're here, right? I mean, attempting to assassinate the leader of your country is a big deal." Still no response. "Where are your friends now? You're all alone now." This time the woman gave out a sarcastic laugh, almost spitefully.
"It's not me who should be scared right now." She said, raising her head. He hair was long and black and she had long thick eyelashes. She was pale and judging by her accent, she was born in Russia or Groznyj Leich. "Hah!" The Ketua responded, interrupting her. "Look at the position you're in. You'll soon be dead and there is nothing you can do about it. Your team is dispatched, displaced and lost. Solomon, your "leader"- Dead! The Test Subject Failure- Dead! And as for your technicians expert Dex, yes I know about Dex, he will soon be in the same place as you." The Woman sarcastically laughed again.
"Solomon is still alive and this time, he'll kill you." She replied, enjoying telling The Ketua of his future demise.
"I don't think so, I killed him." He said aggressively. "He really wasn't a fan of the screwdriver" He said before the crooked smile crept across his face again.
"Really? Then who's The Ghost Man?" She said, smiling back at him with just as much hatred. "I think someone messed up. You don't scare me, Ketua." The Ketua got out of his seat and knelled in front of the woman. He stretched out his hand and grabbed her head, raising it so it was level with his. "Listen here, you little bitch! When you speak to me, I expect a little more respect." He said, grinding his teeth and contracting every muscle in his hand. The Woman paused for a second and stared at The Ketua. She suddenly spat in The Ketua's eye and he let go of her and moved across to the other side of the room. He was angry now, really angry. He wiped the saliva of his face before storming back across the room. He stood before her, grabbed her head, lifted it and pressed the burned end of the cigar into her cheek. The more she screamed, the harder he pressed. Eventually he stopped, throwing the cigar onto the ground and crushing it with his foot. He stood back and pulled out his signature magnum. He placed it against her forehead and spoke coldly to her. "You have ten seconds to pray to whatever god you believe in before you are welcomed by the cold, dark abyss that is the 'afterlife'." He said with a sharp hatred. The Woman closed her eyes, attempting to prevent tears rolling down her face. "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4..." He clutched the gun harder. "3.." He grasped the gun more fiercely, pressing it harder against her forehead. "2..." The woman wept. "1...." The Ketua pulled the trigger. A loud gunshot echoed throughout the room and the woman's body fell to the ground.

[Menatolo]

The Ketua straightened up his suit and adjusted his tie. A quick swig of his whiskey and he was ready. This was the last thing The Ketua wanted to do right now with the MAF advancing towards Groznyj Leich, but loose ends had to be tied up. The doors in front of him slid open and there was a man kneeling on the floor in the middle of the room. The room itself was empty and white, it would make an excellent paining canvas for what The Ketua planned to do. The man knelt on the floor had his hands tied behind his back. He wore thick black glasses and a white and black checkered shirt. His black hair was neatly combed but had been messed up recently. His eye was also swollen and his lips had been cut from where he had punched. "I don't have a lot of time to toy with you," said The Ketua as he lifted his signature magnum and began to place bullets within it. The tied up man began sobbing. "Shut up you pathetic excuse for a man!" The Ketua interrupted. He stood up straight and aimed his magnum at the mans forehead. "What is your name, worm?" The Ketua asked coldly. The man looked up at The Ketua's face and tried to grab a hold of himself. "Dexter... My name is Dexter..." The man said.
"What kind of a name is Dexter?" Asked the Ketua before straightening his gun and priming it to fire. "Dexter, you are to be punished for the attempted assassination on your Ketua. I'd say next time to do a better job but, there isn't going to be a next time for you. You have ten seconds to pray to whatever God you believe in before you are welcomed by the cold, dark, abyss." The Ketua tightened his grip.
"10...9...8....7....6..." Dexter began to cry louder and louder. The Ketua tutted at the cowardice and dishonor of this man. "5...4..." The Ketua straightened out his shirt one last time with his left hand whilst keeping the right hand and the gun aimed firmly at Dexter's head. "3..."
"Wait!" Dexter shouted.
"2..."
"No! Wait, wait! I can explain!"
"1..."
"I wasn't there!"
"..." The Ketua paused. "What?" He asked. His anger quickly subsided to curiosity. "What do you mean you weren't there?"
"I'm just a mercenary!" Dexter pleaded. "Solomon paid me to do all the information and technology stuff, hack door and cameras. He said he had a ton of credits he was going to give me, but when I found out the bastard had nothing, I left... I swear!" This confused The Ketua. Was this man simply wasting time? Regardless he still aided in the assassination. "You still aided them and gave them the tools necessary." Said The Ketua.
"No, but I didn't!" Dexter interrupted, trying to beg his case. "Without me, the whole plan fell apart! The Russian woman couldn't babysit the big dummy and hack the door at the same time! Causing the whole plan to go wrong! Did you really think a native Menatolian would fail an assassination? Solomon was a master assassin and the only reason he didn't stick a knife into your back was because I wasn't there! He needed a fully functioning team! Please, just believe me!"
"You hacked into the doors of my house..." The Ketua thought about this for a second. To hack The Ketua's doors would take a genius, especially considering he did it all himself. The Ketua went around Dexter and cut the rope between his hands. "You're a merc. Whatever Solomon said he was going to pay you, I'll pay you double." The Ketua proposed.
"Wha... Ok!" Dexter said, confused that The Ketua had not killed him.
"If your interests lie at money, like you said, there's not a better man to employ you. But I warn you now, if you for one second do something I don't like..." The Ketua hinted at his magnum. He then walked out the room whilst holstering it. "Whats your favorite number Dex?" The Ketua asked.
"Er.. 37?" Dexter replied confused at what was happening.
"Take the elevator to floor 37, walk down the corridor and enter the first room on the left. It's yours now, for you to work in, of course." And with that The Ketua left Dexter's sight leaving him completely speechless.

[Menatolo]

"You sure this is the place?" Tor'k asked Solomon walking down the corridor of a large upper class city building. "You think that not only is he in Menatolo, but he's in a large city like this? It just doesn't make any sense..."
"He's running from a blind man, crowded cities are perfect camouflage." Solomon said coldly through his red mask. He was tired and had been hunting this coward for a long, long time. It would feel good to finally sink his blade into the bastard's throat. He turned his head to his brother. "Why are you helping me?" he asked.
"I don't know what you're talking about, you're my kin, I need to know you're safe." Tor'k replied.
"What's the real reason." Solomon demanded. Even though he lacked eyes, Tor'k could feel Solomon's piercing gaze through the cold emotionless mask.
"The Ketua's head would be worth a lot of money in Britaria, maybe I can finally get myself out of the mercenary business. Also, he's on Menatolian soil, he's my problem now too." Tor'k got on his knees before a wall and pulled out an explosive charge from his backpack. "This should do the trick!" He said stepping away from it. "How do you think Tank is doing?" He asked fumbling around in his backpack for the detonator.
"He'll be fine back at base, so long as he doesn't start sniffing the glue again..."

Seconds later and there was a loud explosion that echoed throughout the base. Solomon and Tor'k split up, hiding in the shadows and striking at guards when necessary. They eventually regrouped outside of what they knew to be The Ketua's quarters.

"So what do you think of Ryan Lorenzo, the third Ketua. I suppose it's good to have to true blooded Menatolian in charge!" Tor'k said.
"Whatever, I don't care for the politics of this land..." Solomon replied coldly before swinging open the doors to The Second Ketua's quarters. Nothing. There was nobody behind the door. Only an empty room with a desk in the center and a tuxedo on a chair. Solomon sighed. "Get searching then," He said.
"Why me?" Tor'k whined.
"When you get your eyes gouged out of the sockets, rendering you blind, then I'll do the searching instead. Now quit complaining and go." He said sitting down in a nearby chair. Tor'k searched the room. He didn't find much, an empty bottle of whiskey, some magazines entitled "XXX" and some crudely drawn pictures expressing the homosexuality of William Grey (or Willy Gay as he is named in the pictures). But what was this? Tor'k looked at the glass tablet on the desk. The screen read "Call ended: Daniël Seynaeve". It was interesting but certainly no help. The was no doubt that The Ketua was here, but there was even less doubt that he was no longer here. Tor'k sighed.

Solomon's ears pricked up, he heard something in the en suite. He stood up and walked into the room. Sitting in the bathtub was a woman in a maids costume with her legs to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She was crying. Solomon's devil-like masked fixed itself upon her, observing her with invisible eyes. Tor'k followed him into the room and also saw the girl. "What do we do?" Tor'k asked. Solomon remained silent. Tor'k looked down and found something. He picked up the wet oval shaped device and sighed. "I think you need to see this," he said passing it to Solomon. Solomon grabbed the device and started felling it with his hands, every bump, every ridge. He rolled his finger over a large plus sign in the center of the device and sighed. "What do we do?" Tor'k asked. "We can't just leave her here..." Solomon stood, frozen with the device in his hand, petrified by the information it told him. "I have to do this." He said coldly raising a gun to the girls stomach. "You have ten seconds to pray to whatever God you believe in before you are welcomed by the cold, dark, abyss." Solomon tightened his grip.
"10...9...8....7....6..." Solomon counted down, his voice cold and malicious. The girl began to cry louder and louder. Solomon gritted his teeth. "5...4..." He clutched the gun harder. "3..." The woman begged for mercy. "2..." Tor'k stood by, speechless and unable to move or act. "1..." Solomon pulled the trigger. A loud gunshot echoed throughout the room and the girl's body fell to the ground.

"Why?" Tor'k asked, tears in his eyes. "You didn't have to."
"I did..." Solomon replied. "I had to, I couldn't risk it." He fell to his knees and wept.

[Menatolo]

Justin walked away from the burning hospital in the Menatolian Slums. Ash covered his snap back and his eyes were cold and grey, his face was emotionless. Two men in black suits, wearing sunglasses, spoke to each other in Russian as they watched the flames of the hospital. As Justin passed them, they handed him a stack of credits and then walked away. Justin proceeded to walk over to a doctor who was lying on the floor in pain and agony. "Why?" He spluttered. "Why would you do this to us?" Justin towered over the doctor but remained silent; his eyes, cold. "Decades of medical research," the doctor continued "decades of helping the needy. Wasted. Because of you..." He coughed up blood before lying on his back and clutching his ribs. "Why?" He pleaded one more time. The large man adjusted his snap back and remained silent. Sirens could be heard in the distance and Justin still looked at him with the same emotionless expression until he finally spoke. "Because Yolo." He said coldly before raising his foot up and bringing it back down onto the doctors head.

"You sure this is the place?" Tor'k asked staring at the run down building on the outskirts of the Menatopian shanty towns.
"This is street." Tank replied looking at his map.
"It's upside down!" Tor'k said snatching the map from Tank and looking at it. Solomon sighed. "But luckily, this is the place..." He turned to Solomon, "So what do you want to do now, my kin?" Tor'k asked. Solomon paused for a bit and thought about the situation he was getting himself into. As he did this, Tank began sniffing around some of the bins and began scavenging for food. "We have to do it." Solomon finally said. "It's the only way we'll be able to find him and finally kill him."
"Are you sure that's what you want, my kin?" Tor'k asked. "Perhaps revenge isn't the best option..." Solomon lashed at Tor'k and grabbed him by his shirt. "When someone gouges your fucking eyes out, then you can say that." Tor'k was going to reply, but there was something about the faceless mask Solomon wore that struck fear into his heart and he said no more. "Come on!" Solomon said releasing his grip of Tor'k and moving into the building. "Let's go!" Tor'k followed him and called Tank who lifted his head up in a meerkat-like fashion with a dustbin on his head. "Coming master!" He said before trotting behind them.

The inside of the building was dimly lit. Inside sat a very large individual who lifted his head at their entrance. He very big, but slightly smaller than Tank, and wore a red snap back on his head. His eyes were cold and emotionless. "Who are you?" He asked in a monotone voice.
"We're here to join your cause." Solomon said. His voice was loud and held confidence, but the large man laughed regardless. He walked towards them but stopped half way. "Come here little man." He chuckled. Solomon paused at first, but eventually walked over to meet him. The large man began to chuckle in the same monotone fashion as he looked down at the man with the funny looking mask. Suddenly his hand latched onto Solomon's mask and ripped it off his face before throwing it onto the ground. "Let's see how much Swag you got lil man." He said before punching Solomon in the gut. Solomon fell to his knees in pain and clenched his gut with his hands. The large man towered over him and began clubbing him with his large fists. He eventually picked Solomon up by his throat and raised him so high that Solomon could no longer touch the floor. The man grinned as he looked into the artificial pale white eyes of Solomon, who was gasping for breath. "You're jus' a hater. And haters gonna hate." He said, strengthening his grip of Solomon's throat.
"AAAARRRRRGGGHHHH!" Came a thundering noise from across the room as Tank charged at the man. He smashed into him with his shoulder so hard that not only did he drop Solomon, but also continued travelling until he hit against the wall. It didn't take long for the man to recover and then both the man and Tank stood in front of each other, eyes locked, ready to kill. But before either of them were able to tear the other one to shreds, the door swung open and two men walked in carrying a sack that was squirming around.

"Hey!" What are you clowns doing?! Said one of them, he was wearing a lab coat.
"Justin, quit yo' shit! We gots ourselves one of them fat cats, aye?" Said the other, he had a long black mohawk and was covered in tattoos from his head to his toes, but none covered his face. They proceed to the middle of the room and dropped the squirming sack in between Tank and Justin who still maintained eye contact with one another. The one in the lab coat removed the sack to revel a man with combed back ginger hair and a white suit. He was gagged and tears streamed from his eyes. The one with the mohawk kicked Justin and shouted at him, "Well then, what are you doing?! Take the gag off!" Justin finally ceased eye contact with Tank and took the gag off the squirming man on the floor.
"Oh god!" The man cried. "Oh sweet and merciful lord!" He sobbed "Please don't kill me! I'll do anything you want, any-urgumumum" His voice became muffled as the one with the mowhawk shoved the barrel of a gun into his mouth. Although his words were muffled, his tears and cries for help became louder. "Jesus Christ, Jessie" Said the one in the lab coat "Fucking kill him already!" Jessie pressed the gun further into his mouth so it hit the back of his throat and caused his gag reflex to start working. "Shuuusshhh!" Jessie whispered to him "It'll all be cool soon once we blow your fuckin' brains in." But just before Jessie could pull the trigger, the door swung open once more.

"You'd better quit your shit, Jessie." Said the boss walking into room. "I'm sure Mr. Harrington is now willing to comply, isn't that right Mr. Harrington?" He asked the man. The man shook his head up and down drastically. "Jessie, removed the gun." He said before placing his fedora onto the nearby hat stand. He began to walk through the room with his trench coat swishing behind him, but he stopped and paused when he got to Tor'k. He looked up and down Tor'k, evaluating him. "So you're the leader..." Tor'k said, "You'd think that's a little hypocritical for a group trying to achieve anarchy in Menatolo. What makes you so special?" The boss smirked and raised up a badge from his pocket.
"Someone's got to be." He said before walking again, this time he actually left the room through a side door.
"Holy shit..." Tor'k muttered under his breath, "A Justicar..."