Prologue: The Tuesday (Hell Broke Loose)

Day 3 of 1st Fire Cycle, 99 r.c.

The extravagant view of a horizon laced with a sea of clouds and masses of land peeping from between the waves of cumulonimbus creates the backdrop for a beautifully simplistic house. It’s crafted from a unique mix of wood logs, plaster, and rivercane walls, with a thatched roof. The scent of fresh earth and the faint fragrance of rain clouds fill the air. The window, with its highly reflective glass, casts the soft glow of three crescent moons into a serene light emanating from one side of the house. The soft chirping of night insects and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze add to the tranquility. This Creek Native American-inspired architecture sits upon an abandoned village that calls one of the islands in the sky archipelago, home.

"So you want me to tell you this old long story, huh? You must enjoy hearing an old demon ramble on about the past. Well before I do, let me ask you something. Do you believe in reincarnation?" A baritone voice of a mature male is heard from the doorway.

"Did you know, I once didn't believe in Gods or even an afterlife? But that all got thrown out the window that time I died and got reincarnated as a spider."

"...Or was it a slime?"

"Oh shit, I'm trippin'. That was that book I was reading."

"Ok, okay, ok... but I did get a chance at another life like one of those isekai mangas. That whole adventure was wild as fuck."

These words precede the emergence of an Oni demon. So handsome was he that one might mistake him for a human if not for the two indigo horns adorning his forehead. The pair gleam faintly under the soft light. Standing at 183 centimeters, he steps out of the shadows of the dimly lit home, a devilish grin on his face. His eyes, the same silver as the 1st Moon, contrast sharply with his black scleras, making them appear like stars in the night sky. Black pin markings streak downward from the corners of his eyes, giving him a perpetually sorrowful look. His hair, a cascade of tight locks the colors of midnight, frames his face, and a neatly trimmed goatee adds a touch of fatherly charm.

"And if I'm going to tell this story, you'll have to stay for the entire thing. Now then, let me start from the beginning, back in my original world..."

He creates a black leather-bound book with "十三" (jū-san) on the cover in ultraviolet. With a gentle wave of his palm, the book opens and levitates in front of him. A particle-esque mist leaks from the book, sparkling into a galactic reflection of imagination and creation. This airy-like energy is mana. As the book opens, a faint hum and the smell of ancient parchment and ink fill the air.

"Activating skills [Absolute Memory] & [Thought Projection]." He whispers, instantly creating a visual screen to show every thought as if watching from behind a fourth wall. A subtle warmth emanates from the screen, creating a comforting ambiance.

Memory Replay:

October 16, 2019 a.d.

"So, first things second, there was a time when I was a human. Jean Marquis Vinson was my name. A 34-year-old music artist from the southern states of America. That was a country on a planet called Earth, a beautiful blue marble I remember. I was a simple 6' foot tall, black father down on his luck. I guess the proper term back then was African-American, but I had some Native American mixed in the bloodline which gave me this same attractive cinnamon-red tinted brown skin." The memory of cool autumn nights and the sounds of the inner city buzzing in the background flashed across the projection.

"Alabama-bred and Japanese-inspired, I lived like any nerd of my time and got into martial arts, music, and Japanese Waifus. I was a bit abnormal when compared to the other perverts on this planet as I’m blessed with this annoying pair of companions in my head. The doctors had labeled it Dissociative Identity Disorder."

Mature Male Voice (within): "I know yo' ass is NOT talking about me when you say annoying. It's clear you love me."

Relaxed Deep Voice (within): "A hit dog will holler."

Mature Male Voice (within): "You've got me confused with yo' bitch ass. Mister Furry Persona he keeps trying to play off as just a primal kink."

Jean (thinking): "...But I haven't said a word."

Mature Male Voice (within): "Why are you a talking wolf anyway? That shit don't make no sense. Oh? My bad, a demonic werewolf."

Relaxed Deep Voice (within): "Why? Are you impressed? Don't be, I think you being a talking dick is far more remarkable."

Mature Male Voice (within): "That's funny coming from a nigga with a knot in his. Tell me, is that why you always try to push us to watch Beastality Porn?"

Jean: "Will you two please, shut the fuck up! Y'all stay arguing like old lovers."

Relaxed Deep Voice (within): "The only one that's old is him."

Mature Male Voice (within): "Ignore that bitch, get back to the story."

These are the extra personalities that live in my head. They often pilot the body we shared, so we've been roommates forever. The grumpy mature voice was originally named Xi back then. It was the shortened version of Xiro. He had always been what I believed to be the reflection of my willpower and fighting spirit as he looked like a silver-haired battle-hardened version of me with crimson-red eyes. The talking werewolf from hell, known as Wolfie in that life, had fur tinted with shades of noir and midnight purple. He used to share the same crimson-red eyes as Xiro, but later that would change when he grew an additional pair. His personality has always been pretty animalistic; always seeking to be the apex in a situation by adapting to the adversity. We're quite amazing when we work together, as they've assisted me with many situations where I couldn't think clearly or was too paralyzed by fear to move. The problem with having those additional sides to my anima is that they often bleed into my default personality. Side effects from such a nature include me being quite combat addictive, weak to head scratches behind the ear, and embodying a more Wolf-like spirit as a whole... and a few sexual kinks that we won't talk about right now.

I was a music artist in my original life for a record label called 9IX Soundz, and they were coming to the end of their days. If I had been aware and paid more attention to the things happening around me, I could have seen this coming a mile away. But I was too caught up in some romance drama. It all came to a crash the last day I went to the studio...

Outside the occasional rise of home invasion crimes, it was a pretty average day in the city. The morning air was crisp and invigorating as I left my apartment at about 7:30, the soft hum of traffic and distant chatter filling the streets. By the time I checked the clock again, it was showing 6:13 pm. The city had taken on the warm, golden hue of the setting sun, casting long shadows and a gentle glow on the buildings.

Five Guys Burgers had just opened a new restaurant downtown, and lucky for me, it was an easy four blocks away from the studio. The smell of sizzling beef and fries was already wafting down the street, mingling with the aroma of urban life. With my last $20 until payday, I hopped in the car, the leather seats of my Camaro warm from the day's sun. I whipped around the corner, the engine’s roar echoing off the buildings as I hurried to grab a double cheeseburger meal. I mixed my Sprite drink with a Fruit Punch Hi-C at the counter, the sweet, tangy scent of the soda combo filling the air. You know it was finna go down.

I stuffed the remaining $7 into my back pocket, the crinkling sound of the bill against the fabric of my jeans providing a brief moment of normalcy. Just as I was about to savor my meal, my phone rang with an incoming call from the front office of my apartment complex. The vibration of the call felt like a jolt of electricity in my hand, and just looking down at the name across my screen sent a chill of anxiety down my spine.

Xi (within): "So, you're just gonna ignore them calling you for rent? You know we could have paid that up when we had the money four weeks ago."

Wolfie (within): "We could have paid it up two weeks after that, but you both wanted to buy more weed."

"Nigga, I didn't hear you talking all this shit when you had us paying for a prostitute last week. You needed pussy that bad?" It felt like Xi hit a nerve with that because the growl

I heard that followed could be felt with strong amounts of frustration building. Wolfie was steaming at the simple idea that someone had the nerve to say such judgment to him... even if it was essentially me.

"Anytime you think you wanna check me about it, you know where to find me." Wolfie rebutted with fangs showing, it was clear that he was pissed about Xi speaking on him following his desire.

Xi seemed excited like he normally does when the idea that his words bothered or got to someone, especially Wolfie.

"Mutt, I'm ready to run ya fade whenever," Xi replied, with a grin of a devil. Due to those crazy rushes of emotions, my body started to get warm and my mood started souring. The burger I was chewing on, started losing its good ass taste.

"I wish you two would chill. I can't even enjoy this food no mo'. I know we should have paid them when we could, but if we just finished up this song and submitted it, we could get paid and pay the late fee with it. We just need to wait out these next three days." I told them, but doubt followed.

Wolfie (within): "It ain't never easy."

Pulling up and parking in front of the studio, I hopped out of my car to throw away the remaining of my burger into a trash bin that must have been the main wall to a cardboard and wood crate house built by the homeless guy who was giving me the side-eye. I could tell he was homeless by the number of clothing he was wearing, as it was clear he was trying to stave off the chill of October. As I slid my hands into my hoodie's pouch, he developed the courage to speak to me.

"Hey you! Hey there, can you spare a dollar to help the less fortunate?"

Before I could properly adjust my thoughts and mood to respond in a much friendlier manner, Xi decided he knew just what to say.

Jean (Xi): "Damn Cuz, you waited until I threw away the burger I didn't want no mo'? I coulda gave you that shit."

Jean (thinking): "You do know the correct way to say that is 'I could have given you'..."

Xi (within): "Boy, shut the hell up. I've been talking like this for the last 30 years. If you don't get somewhere with that shit."

The homeless man looked at me with a mix of disbelief and disgust, his eyes widening as if I had just insulted him. The harsh sunlight reflected off his weathered face, casting deep shadows into the creases of his worn skin. His tattered clothes rustled faintly in the breeze, adding a faint, desolate sound to the atmosphere.

I pushed Xi to the back of my mind with the dull hum of city life around me momentarily fading into the background. I began rifling through my pockets, the crisp sound of coins clinking together as I checked the change I had gotten back at Five Guys. The rough texture of the coins against my fingertips contrasted sharply with the smooth, greasy paper from the burger bag that I had stuffed hastily into my other pocket.

"Look, here's $3. It's the best I can do for now." I followed up, as I separated a few bills from the dollars stuffed in my back pocket.

"Th-thanks." The smelly man replied with a genuine smile crawling from the corners of his face. Doing acts where I can help people in some way always did bring me joy, but every time I try to enjoy the sensation I hear these two assholes' opinions on my actions.

Wolfie (within): "We could have used that to get some more weed."

Xiro (within): "Nigga, you was just bitching about us buying weed, now you saying we should? Besides all that, the fuck you give him $3 for? You couldn't be satisfied with just handing the man a dollar?"

"Relax, we'll get that pocket change back. Just call it future karma or something." I replied unknowingly out loud.

"Huh? Did you say something else to me?" The man still sitting by the trash bin uttered as he looked back up again. I shook my head for a second as I refocused my thoughts to answer him and proceeded to walk off.

"Oh, no. I was just thinking out loud."

"Oh, shit, looks like it's my lucky day. I get to finally beat down this pussy nigga, Xiro." I heard yelled at me from behind.

"I'm pussy?!?" I snapped back while searching for the owner of the comment. That's when I noticed him. "The Opps", I said in unison with myself as we laid eyes on the displeasing image of Jerome Roberts.

This was a pathetic excuse for a man who was no better than the physical representation of a modern-day goblin. Although he was slightly shorter than me, he made up for it with a more rounder and solid body versus my slim athletic frame.

"Ain't no Cobruh or Lan here to save you, hoe ass nigga." Jerome barked at me with vigor and hate. You could see in his eyes, he wasn't leaving without me receiving damage.

"And here I thought someone intimidating was talking. You know Lan wasn't protecting me from you, right?" I expressed with a predator-like grin.

Xi had taken over my body, switching me into spectator mode as he relaxed my then-tensed muscles. I knew what was about to happen next and it seemed so did the homeless guy, because he then proceeded to get away from us two, placing space and opportunity between Jerome and me.

"All you do is lie. When I pulled up to yo' crib, he was outside trying to convince me not to follow through with beating yo' ass like I told Tanya and everybody else." Jerome barked at me with furious loathe bleeding from his stare.

But before Xi could retort with a joke meant to exasperate him further, Jerome hurtled toward me at breakneck speed, his heavy footsteps pounding against the pavement with a rhythm that reverberated through my bones. His powerful shoulders tensed, and I could almost feel the heat radiating from his body as he drew back his arm for a haymaker, the air whistling with the force of his motion. The imminent threat was palpable—if he connected, I would be left reeling, struggling to recover from the shock and unable to fend off the barrage of blows that would surely follow.

The intensity of the moment sharpened my senses: the acrid scent of sweat and adrenaline mingled in the air, and the sharp clang of distant traffic seemed to fade into a muted hum. My mind raced, each thought a fleeting spark in a high-speed montage, driven by the constant mental agility honed from juggling the perspectives of three personalities. The urgency of the situation made my heart pound in sync with the adrenaline surging through my veins, a reminder of how critical my martial arts training was in this life-or-death confrontation. Without Xi’s presence guiding my actions, I might have already succumbed to the crushing force of Jerome’s assault.

Jean (within): "He's quick!"

"We're quicker." Xi immediately replied.

Jerome swung his right hand at the speed of a quick breath, but Xi allowed me to casually dodge it by leaning towards the left, positioning myself to strike Jerome's now openly exposed side torso. With the same rhythm of breathing, I threw a swift and heavy right hand into his rib cage, followed by a quicker left hook to his right kidney. The impact of both punches exacerbated the air from his lungs and dropped him to his knee, leaving him in a dangerously vulnerable position for my next attack.

"YEEHHHAAAOOOCHH!" Jerome whaled out in pain, gripping his hands and arms to cover and protect his recently damaged areas.

While he stared in bewilderment at his own body, trying to make sense of what had just happened, I seized the moment to adjust my stance, planting my feet firmly on the ground for a decisive roundhouse kick. The sharp, tingling sensation in my leg as I pivoted was accompanied by the adrenaline-fueled rush that quickened my heartbeat.

With a resounding "Thwack!" my shin bone struck his temple with a jarring impact, the force reverberating through my leg and resonating off the windows of the five parked cars, where the sound seemed to echo like a gunshot. The impact sent a shudder through my entire body as his face crumpled under the blow, and I could almost feel the tremor of the collision through the soles of my shoes. Jerome's body was propelled through the air, his weight shifting uncontrollably before he crashed hard onto the ground with a dull thud that seemed to momentarily still the surrounding noise.

The brief scuffle was over as quickly as it had begun, leaving a lingering silence punctuated only by the distant hum of city traffic and the fading echoes of the confrontation.

"Like I was saying, they were trying to protect you... stupid ass nigga."

I stood over him victorious, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, making my heart race with a rapid, pounding rhythm that I could almost hear in my ears. The scent of sweat and the faint, metallic tang of blood lingered in the air, a stark reminder of the conflict that had just unfolded. I relished the intense thrill of the moment. My pride and ego thrived on the satisfaction of proving myself as a formidable force, feeding the growing God Complex within me.

Xi's encouraging words echoed in my mind, his voice a familiar comfort: "There's nothing we can't do. All we need first is a lil' understanding." The conviction in his voice and the warmth of his belief wrapped around me like a protective cloak. Both Xi and Wolfie saw me as the polymath of our triune, and their unwavering faith bolstered my own. The certainty of those words fueled my ambition, though I knew well that I couldn’t stop a bullet or soar to the moon. Yet, the notion of limits felt foreign and nonexistent.

A side effect of my unyielding confidence, willpower, and stubbornness had woven a web of delusion within me, one that would later usher in wealth beyond my wildest dreams. The pleasure I found in martial arts and the resulting propensity for violence were products of this mindset. Choosing violence isn’t always the optimal path, but it remains Xi’s favorite, and thus, it became mine too. The echoes of our shared ideology resonated deeply, leaving me with a complex blend of exhilaration and resolve.

I rumbled around in Jerome's pockets to see what loot he dropped, keeping in front of my mind the memory of him saying he was going to rob me with this assault. I found a blade, his cell phone, and a wallet with $23.

"Guess I can take this as you paying me for wasting my time." I said to the unconscious dumb ass who was currently on his back taking a nap. It wasn't a great loop drop, but then again I wouldn't consider him to be worth something of value. So I proceed into the building leaving everything but the $23 behind.

The studio I recorded in, Flaming 88s, was a haven of creativity, its name emblazoned in vibrant, neon colors above the door. Owned by an old friend named Muzik, the space was filled with the familiar hum of recording equipment and the faint scent of old vinyl records mixed with coffee. Muzik had been more than just an engineer; he had introduced me to a treasure trove of martial arts movies and animes, enriching my life with his eclectic tastes.

Father Time was beginning to show his effects on Muzik. His facial hair, now salt-and-pepper with flecks of gray, framed a face that had seen many years of music and conversation. As I entered, the studio's worn leather couches and the cozy glow of dimly lit lamps provided a comforting backdrop to the lively debate between Muzik and KJ, the other engineer. Their argument about video games was punctuated by the clattering of keyboards and the occasional burst of laughter.

The air was thick with the familiar mix of burnt blunts and the tang of studio equipment, creating a sensory tapestry that brought back waves of nostalgia. Thinking about it now, I realize how much I miss those days, the camaraderie, and the creative energy that filled that space.

KJ: "You're smoking rocks if you think that Dragon Ball game is better than Mortal Kombat."

Muzik: "Saiyans ov-over Ninjas, any day."

Jean (Xi): "What it do, fellas? Y'all ready to make magic today?"

"Who dat? I know it's not the Man-God, Xiro Wolf that just walked in here?" KJ energetically replied without even looking back my way.

Seems I walked in right on time as the smell of a burning Backwood with some of the West Coast's finest weed ground up, blessed my nose. Also if you didn't notice, he called me by stage name which is just my two additional personalities used as a first and last. Excluding my family, everyone knew me as Xiro.

Muzik: "I make magic every day. I also make a mess and my-my gurl has to clean us up afterward, but she says it's always magic."

KJ: "I thought you got on your PC and bullied people on The Old Republic?"

Muzik: "Like-like I told ya... Magic." He said like some perverted sage of wisdom as he passed me an obnoxiously big blunt.

Jean (Xi): "Y'all niggas wild. So, are we finishing that song today? I got the lyrics completed." I said as I took the blunt and inhaled.

Muzik: "We might have to put that on hold for a second. Ca-call umm, what's her name? *snap snap* The label woman who book your sessions."

KJ: "And let your more pious side do the talking. The one you said was named Jean. Cause getting angry isn't going to fix shit."

"From the way you sound, it must be some bullshit." I rebutted back as I handed the blunt to KJ, but it was met with silence. I took an understanding from that and walked into another room for a few minutes of privacy.

Those few minutes turned into 30 as Taisha did her best to explain to me how the record label was filing for bankruptcy and the album I spent my savings on was now about to be placed in a vault and never released. Well, she also spent most of it trying to tell me that I wouldn't get reimbursed for the money spent and that I was mostly shit out of luck without a lawyer, which was something she knew I couldn't afford. Frankly, I didn't even finish the conversation as I ended the call completely vexed about the shit. There it was, my livelihood had just come to an end, and my way to take care of myself and my newborn son. Yeah, I know I haven't spoken much about him. Don't worry, we're approaching that part of the story real soon.

As I reentered the engineering room, it seemed KJ and Muzik could hear me yelling and had a few additional blunts rolled and ready.

KJ: "I thought you would have let the Jean guy talk more, but she must have said something you weren't fucking with."

Muzik: "Ye-yeah, yu-you switched so damn fast, I forgot you were alone in there."

Jean: "Yeah, the future is looking bad."

"But that's no sweat, you always adapt and make a comeback," KJ said handing me a new freshly rolled Backwood.

Muzik: "Yeah, you got this shit. Hea-head up. And you know I'm gotta send some prayers up for you."

I wanted to play it off with a smile, and agree but I was honestly worried. I didn't have any backup funds as I had previously sent all my extra money to a woman out of state who had run off with my child.

My baby momma and I had recently broken up because she chose to turn our arguments into boxing matches, and I'm not big on the idea of going to jail for smacking a white woman in self-defense, so I chose to leave. Oddly enough after our break-up, she would return to my house a week after the break-up to tell me she was pregnant. This didn't move me emotionally enough to get back into a relationship with her, and she claimed she was fine with that. Though honestly, that's not the type of energy I was feeling in the room at the time, but I digress. I knew I should have left the studio at that moment, as my mood was already spoiling but the scent of OG Cherry Pie rendered my ability to make a responsible decision void. Wolfie could smell a good time during a bad situation and that sense of adventure always had me diving headfirst into trouble.

"You know I don't believe in God, plus blessings from the weed is all I need." Wolfie casually stated as he took control of the body.

Honestly, it was more than welcome at that moment. I needed to get away, I felt. I didn't need them to see me scared or unsure. The anticipation of my now dark future had stabbed me with a fear I couldn't explain, and I didn't want anyone else to know I felt weak at that moment; lost even. Wolfie was a perfect mask and a great save face.

We spent the next 4 hours smoking and talking about who could beat Goku in a fight, and our favorite hip-hop or rock albums before I looked down at my cell phone and saw that it was 10:27 pm.

Jean: "Oh shit, I need to get to the house. I gotta get up early in the morning and go see Tanya and the baby."

KJ: "She had the baby?"

Jean: "Yeah, around a month ago. She moved back to her hometown slightly before then, so the boy was born up there with her."

Muzik: "You know you my boy, and I-I don't want ever seem like I'm trying to step out of line with you, but I see as you family, and I-I don't want-"

KJ: "Folk, that's not your child." "No disrespect, but that's not your child."

KJ's statement caused a pause in the room. It's as if all the smoke swirling in the air just stopped. Here I was expecting to feel Xi rushing to the top to flare up in a rage at the offense I was hoping to feel... but it didn't happen. I wasn't offended. I honestly agreed. Because deep down Xiro, Wolfie, and I believed the same thing but didn't have the guts to say it out loud.

"Yeah yeah, I'm not so head over heels for the bitch. I plan on getting a blood test." Wolfie smoothly said as he helped me bring the room back to a mellow go. He was always good with high-pressure situations, so this wasn't even a thought for him. It's a shame that such a suave and predator-like attitude is accompanied by extreme selfishness.

I said goodbye as we thanked them both for the session and mood adjustment. The ride back to my apartment felt a little less stressful, but I still couldn't think of any immediate plans.

"We're going to have to find a way to make some fast money." I thought to myself.

Wolfie (within): "Sell drugs."

Xi (within): "Unless you wanna rob someone? Rob a drug dealer."

Wolfie (within): "You just like to start shit with me."

Xi (within): "That's because I'm better than you."

Wolfie (within): "You're nothing without me. Bitches aren't trying to deal with your overly upset ass."

Xi (within): "There's so much more to life than bitches."

Wolfie (within): "That's because you can't get bitches."

"Fellas, can we get back on topic? We need money and fast." I tried to get us back focused but they just brushed it off. My mind was all over the place.

Xi (within): "You just got two decent ideas. What's wrong with them?"

Jean (thinking): "Can we avoid jail while doing it, though?"

As I pulled into my apartment complex, an uneasy feeling began to wrap around me like a cold, heavy fog. The usual chirping of crickets and the hum of traffic seemed distant, drowned out by an unsettling sense of foreboding. I could almost feel a prickling on the back of my neck as if an invisible danger detector was blaring an alarm.

I parked my car, the engine’s purr dying away, and the faint scent of gasoline lingered in the air. Pulling out my phone, I saw three new text messages flashing at the top of the screen, each from Tanya. For a brief moment, the ominous atmosphere was momentarily eclipsed by a rush of stress. My heart thudded heavily as I unlocked my phone, bracing myself for the dreaded ask for more money, which was what I hoped to find.

Instead, the message I read was far worse than I anticipated, sending a wave of panic crashing over me.

"I know I told you that the child was yours, but I lied. The real father is here with me and we're moving to New York. Thanks for helping me when I was broke, and for giving me the name of the child. Xion is perfect. I will never forget you. Please never contact me again. Good luck in life, Jean."

I read that message over and over. I could feel myself slipping lower and lower into depression with each repetition of the phrase "but I lied". It felt like those following 40 seconds became what I felt to be hours and hours of me spiraling down a hole of "I told you so" and "This ain't real life". I abruptly snapped back into reality with the sound of a ringtone that I knew belonged to me. Lan's name flashed across the screen as I asked my personas which of us would answer the phone. To my amazement my question was met with silence again, leading me to understand that I would be the mask we wore this time.

"Yo, what's up L?" I said as I attempted to mask my current despair.

"Hey, what's good with you Xi? How did that song finish up?"

Lan LaQuintin, the pretty boy rich best friend of my life. This guy was a stud with the ladies and a king of modern men. Real role model type shit. During high school, he kept a forlorn weirdo like me from dropping out. We even attended college together. That adventure didn't have the same happy ending, as I ended up dropping out of college to chase a dream that ultimately led me nowhere. Lan on the other end started his own marijuana company and it took off to new heights. He's so busy now, that our phone calls are always rare to have.

"Nope. Life hit me with a curveball and short to say, I'm jobless."

I went on to explain my recent string of bad luck; how I couldn't pay my rent, how Tanya sent me the message that the child wasn't mine, the loss of my money on the album, all of it. While explaining it all in detail, I noticed that it had been building up for a while and everything just all seemed to crash at a climax. At the point of my self-revelation, my phone died in the middle of the call. I didn't notice it was beeping about its low battery, I thought those were more social media notifications. I hope Lan didn't take it personally and think I hung up on him, but there was nothing else I could do but finally walk into my home.

I departed my car, as I had been sitting in the parking lot for the best of 8 minutes. None of my neighbors were home, it appeared as if my Camaro stood alone under the flickering streetlight. The corridor to my door had blown the bulb that illuminated the halls for safety. This shit looked like a horror film, but I had been here over a thousand times before so it was welcoming to me. While I crept closer to my door, that previous ominous feeling from before returned. When I did make it to my door, I was met with an eviction notice taped to the front of it over the peephole. I knew it was an eviction paper from the folding and the coloring, as this wasn't my first. But before I could worry about that, the sounds of movement and what sounded like muffled voices on the other side of the door took my attention. I rushed to put my key in to unlock it but noticed that the lock had been recently broken and the door wasn't properly closing. As I opened the door, the sounds of the hinges caused three flashlights to meet me in the face, blinding me immediately.

"What the hell are y'all doing in my house?" I yelled as I tried to shield my eyes from the light!"

"Oh shit, the owner is back! We gotta split!"

When I heard him say that, I went to reach for my phone in hopes that I could call the police, already forgetting that it recently died.

"What the fuck?! He's packin' heat! Drop 'em!" The second voice yelled out in a panic.

That's when it clicked in my head that they saw me reach for my back pocket, which made it look like I was going... I was going to... I was gonna die that night, is all I could continue to think. I looked back in their direction and before I could say a word, his muzzle flashed. It seems as soon as I could comprehend what just happened, I felt a rapidly hot pain pierce my chest. It felt like the sun was touching me, I couldn't wrap my head around how hot it felt. And then, I felt nothing... I saw nothing... everything was now nothing.

[End of Chapter]