Jackson had been trained in many things; hand-to-hand combat, self defense, weaponry, torture, survival. He knew how to withstand the most mind breaking torture, and in turn, how to get his enemies to break. He knew just where to shoot to cripple a man without killing him, and how to defend himself from any situation, even when severely wounded. And most of all, he knew some of the darkest secrets of the mafia.

Or so he thought, anyway.

But the one thing he was never taught - the one thing no man could teach him, not even Dominic - was what death was like. What to expect when the inevitable would eventually come for him.

There was no majestic call of angels. No warm, golden light to comfort him. There was no tunnel, either. His dead family members did not greet him. Not even Death himself offered him a guiding hand or a boat ride across a river. And least of all, his life did not flash before his eyes.

He had almost hoped for that last part. It sounded the most comforting. A moment to see it all one last time.

Except there was nothing in his life he wanted to relive. No family members, no loved ones. No special moments he treasured. No friends he would never forget. Not even a damn pet dog. For all he knew, everyone else saw their life flash before them; but he had had no life. For the short sixteen years he had been alive, he might as well have been dead already. He was empty. Soulless. Nothing more than a tool for Dominic. And one that had failed at that. Afterall, what good was a dead tool?

The only thing he experienced in that moment was darkness creeping in around him as his vision faded. His lungs burned, desperate to take in a breath of air, but the heavy force against his windpipe prevented that. All he could do was gasp and kick, but he was too weak to fight the large, adult man off of him, and his strength was fading fast. It seemed all he could do was accept the inevitable. His time on this Earth was never meant to last. He knew that. He had always known that. It was just the cards he had been dealt. It was only a matter of time before his luck would run out.

His mind quieted. He no longer gasped for breath. The darkness that stalked him now comforted him. At least it would all be over. The long, painful life he had endured would finally be over.

And that was when he saw it. He couldn’t quite be sure what it was. It wasn’t so much something he saw - imagined, really. A dream he had always dreamt. Of something more in this life. And he was suddenly overcome with emotions he had never truly felt before. He felt a passion, a desire, a love fiercer than he had ever felt. And somehow, he knew he had to survive. He knew that this wasn’t his time to die. Not like this. Not until he knew they were safe.

He didn’t know who they were. But he loved them so fiercely, so deeply, so passionately. He knew deep in his soul that he would never stop fighting for them, even if it meant trading his life to protect them. That was what he was meant for.

He found the last bit of strength in him, felt the man’s grip loosen, convinced he had won the fight. He dropped his guard, and in that moment, Jackson fought back, harder than he had ever fought before. He slipped out of the man’s grip, and in one swift motion, swung his leg around, the heel of his boot hitting the man square in the jaw. He heard the sickening crack as the bones shattered and the man dropped to the ground, shouting in pained agony and surprise.

Jackson took advantage of the moment to fill his burning lungs with fresh air. He choked violently as his vision quickly came to, and, still gasping for air, he pulled the weapon out from under his jacket and took two quick shots at the man, and the screams were silenced.

Jackson let the gun drop to the ground and he collapsed, still fighting to catch his breath. He stared up at the sky as his chest heaved until he finally caught his breath. His brows knit together, still trying to piece together the last thirty seconds. He didn’t know where he found the sudden strength to overcome the man. He felt the strangest sensation deep in his chest; a warm, fulfilling sensation, and for a brief moment, he recalled that deep love, but it quickly faded as he took in the reality of his situation.

He pushed himself up and looked at the dead man just inches away from him. There was a hole square in his forehead and one in his neck, both bleeding profusely. It started to drip down, threatening to stain the ground.

Jackson cursed under his breath and moved quickly to his feet. He dragged the man across the ground toward the edge of the bridge. He frisked the dead man quickly, taking his weapons, his ID, and anything else he carried on him, then shoved his pockets with the heaviest stones he could find. He pushed the man off the bridge into the rapid river below. Jackson stared over the edge silently, watching as the man’s body splashed upon impact, disappearing under the surface of the water. Though the river wasn’t particularly deep, the man sank well out of sight, into the cold darkness. A shiver went up Jackson’s spine, and he took a moment to regain himself.

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He checked his surroundings, confirming that the area was clear and no incriminating evidence was left behind, then made his way back down the trail, walking the mile out to where he left his car on the side of the road. He looked around carefully before approaching his car, looked his car over for anything suspicious, then slipped into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life and he peeled out into the road, not looking back. 

He was an hour outside the city, the trails through the woods long since abandoned. It was an easy place for Dominic to plan his various drops, exchanges, and murders. If he wasn’t careful, Jackson was certain the police would eventually catch on. It seemed a miracle they hadn’t yet, but he knew Dominic had a lot of connections, and he chalked it up to some shmuck who owed him money being black mailed into covering up for Dominic’s shit. 

It wasn’t his job to question, only to carry out Dominic’s jobs. And the job he just completed was a simple one; kill the target. Probably not one that Dominic should have given to a sixteen-year-old kid, but he supposed he was just as equipped to do so as any one of Dominic’s men. 

It wasn’t his job to question, and he didn’t. He was just glad he made it out alive and that the task was done. Dominic would have been pissed if the target escaped.

Dominic wasn’t a kind hearted man. He was the leader of one of the largest mafia families in the city. And Jackson was just another one of his soldiers. It meant nothing to Dominic - nor to Jackson - that Dominic had taken Jackson in. To say he raised him was a joke. Aside from taking him in as an orphaned child, Dominic had nothing more to do with him. Jackson was raised by various hired help. Most of them didn’t last more than a year; he supposed it was Dominic’s way of protecting his assets, his secrets. Jackson couldn’t remember most of them. But there was one woman in particular he would never forget. Like the others, she too inexplicably disappeared seemingly without a trace. Jackson never knew what happened to her. But she was the most like a mother to him. Kind, compassionate, and truly scary when she wanted to be.

He supposed she must have known who Dominic truly was. He was a child at the time, but he remembered clearly the very late night when she woke him up and dragged him out of the house. Jackson, of course, was terrified and confused, but he said nothing. He had always been told to remain silent, whether by Dominic or one of his caretakers. Silent. Obey.

And so he did. He obeyed silently as she brought him far away in the darkness. He didn’t know where they were going or what she wanted with him. When they finally reached a black, unmarked vehicle, he pulled his wrist out of her grip and stared at her. She begged and pleaded with him to get in the car. “You don’t belong here,” she had said to him. “You’re just a child. You deserve a family. Let me protect you. You can be far away from here. Far away from him.”

But her words terrified him. He only knew the life that Dominic had given him. Wasn’t that what a family was? Wasn’t it how all children lived their lives? But she had told him he was different. That his life could be different. It seemed only logical that she wanted to hurt him. To take him away from the only family he knew. 

He panicked. He had loved her like a mother. But now she terrified him. He couldn’t go with her. He couldn’t leave Dominic. He belonged there. That was his home.

He ran. He ran from her, ignoring her shouts. He was certain she chased him, but he was small, nimble, and quick. And Dominic had taught him how to hide. He easily outran her, hiding within the darkness of the night. He ran until he could no longer hear her, then kept running until the rays of the morning sun lightened the world.

By then, he was lost. He had no idea where he was or even how he would get back. He wandered for most of the day until one of Dominic’s men finally found him. He supposed Dominic had noticed he was missing and, in what could only be concern for the boy, sent his men to find him.

Jackson knew now that Dominic wasn’t concerned for his safety as a child, he was merely protecting his assets. His tools. His weapons. And in the last fourteen years, Dominic had spent a lot of time and money on Jackson. Grooming him, he supposed, to one day take over this business. Dominic had no family of his own, so it seemed only logical. He saw promise in Jackson. It wasn’t something he said so simply and plainly, but Jackson could see the approval in his gaze whenever Jackson did something that impressed him.

Jackson had one purpose in life in Dominic’s eyes, and Jackson wanted nothing more than to prove his worth. 

Jackson pulled up the long drive that wound its way to Dominic’s large, yet remarkably plain home. Located just on the outskirts of the city, his property overlooked the western cliffs that dropped down into the ocean. To the east, beyond tall, guarded walls and a dense gathering of trees, the city’s skyscrapers stretched even taller. Between Dominic’s brooding abode and the city center was an area of the city referred to simply as ‘the bad part of town.’ There was no other specific name for the area, though he had heard that at one point, one hundred some odd years ago, the city was split into three major districts, each run by one of the city’s three prominent families. He supposed this district was Dominic’s family’s district, the Amante district. But Dominic’s family name was not held in such high regard, as evident by the crumbling district, filled with violence and crime. 

But Jackson was comfortable on those city streets where he was born and raised. It was hard to fear those streets when he was quite literally a trained killer. He was taught to fear nothing; to be feared. And as a teen nearing adulthood, it was a powerful feeling. It was the only thing he was proud of. He would soon be Dominic’s number one man and someday would run the business as Dominic did. The city would be his, and all that came with it. And what could be better than that kind of power?

He took the steps two at a time, pushing the double doors open dramatically when he reached the top. He strode unflinching past Dominic’s armed guards, making his way down the corridor until he reached Dominic’s office. Inside, Dominic was standing over a large table, overlooking scattered pages and an open laptop screen. He glanced up when Jackson entered and met his gaze.

”Is it done?”

Jackson simply nodded, holding his gaze on Dominic, and Dominic smiled.