Gratitude was somewhere very dark and, he sensed, somewhere very far away from the real world. Despite this, every sense, every instinct, in his body was screaming out for him to wake up. With considerable effort he dragged himself from the darkness and opened one bleary eye.
A split second later a round from a Smith & Wesson .45 pierced it, passed clean through his head and deposited half the contents of his skull onto the crisp, cotton pillowcase beneath Bone fragments and brain matter peppered the rest of the bed, the wall and the upper body of the man holding the gun.
Evilsheep looked down at the blood spatter on his new, Italian leather shoes and sighed.
Returning the gun to it's holster. He turned around and he knew that it was almost over. Only one more to kill and he would be king of Salem, free to force this village to his hand, or what is left of it at least.
When he was satisfied everything was perfect he looked over his shoulder one more time, watching the dead weight that had once been Gratitude , he turned to leave.
Then he stopped. The closet door was slightly ajar.
It was in his nature to see every single detail. He knew that it had not been ajar when he entered the room. He would have noticed. It also seemed unlikely that the door had swung open by itself and Evilsheep was not the kind of man who believed in ghosts.
Which left only one possibility.
Someone had been in the room when he entered the house. Someone had hidden in the closet, watched him execute Gratitude and had since managed to sneak out without him noticing, almost certainly while he was cleaning up his new Italian shoes. Evilsheep retrieved his gun and took a cautious step forward. He held in his own breath, waiting for the next sound, the next whisper of clothing or creak of an over strained floorboard. He didn't have to wait long. From somewhere down the hall came a muffled click, the sound of a doorknob being turned a fraction.
He walked over to the window and peered outside, he was a good aim, so if his target would show himself it would be an easy job to finish this. He waited a few moments and then he saw a man sneaking out the house. His effort to stay unnoticed was not bad, but Evilsheep had been around long enough to not be fooled by this man. He raised him arm and focused, aiming slowly at the head of the fleeing man. The man was almost out of range as Evilsheep released his shot. The bullet rushed through the air and passed clean through the head of the man.
'An heroic effort' he murmured as he looked at Genesis lying dead on the grass. Genesis who had no medical supplies but still felt the urge to try and save someone. An urge that got him killed but heroic nevertheless.
Evilsheep smiled victoriously as he left the house. It was time for something new, it was time for the Mafia to rise again! The time for Mafia 21!
Elrohir
"Abstract art is the product of the untalented, sold by the unprincipled to the utterly bewildered.."
)
- Gj GF.
