Jonathan raises the pistol, taking just a few seconds to gather
his aim before squeezing off a few shots at the target
down-range. His ear-protection muffled the gun fire well enough-
and Jonathan was certainly happy of this. At the age of just
twenty he currently had the hearing of a sixty-year old, and his
doctor had said it wouldn't be long before it would start
affecting him in a more severe way. However this was the furthest
thing from Jonathans mind as he pulled down his protective
glasses, grinning as he saw three kill-shots through the
man-shaped target in front of him. He'd been practicing so long,
and he was finally ready.
There was no falter in his grin as he set the pistol down on the
table below him, turning around to hang up his gear on the racks.
He quickly exited the firing range, making sure not to talk to
anyone as he did. His hands buried deep inside his pockets.
He came out onto the street of his home; New York. Everything
seemed to slow down, as Jonathan looks around. Noticing the faces
of people he knew, some he simply recognized, and some he had yet
to meet as they cross the street in front of him. Little did
these people know what he had just accomplished, what he was
finally ready to do.
The year was 2006, and it was a very rainy spring here in his
city. Even now, the puddles formed on the sidewalk were constant
reminders of how much it had rained this day. After one more
quick look around, Jonathan firmly fitted his hat onto his skull.
Anticipating more rain, though he knew forecasts said otherwise,
he could take no chances. He wanted to look as professional as he
could when he went for his initiation. Funny, he thought, he
wanted to look nice before he committed his first murder.
Jonathan was born in a rundown apartment in 1986, and four years
later he witnessed his first murder. The small bakery across the
street has been under the 'protection' of a local group in the
area for years, and the owner had not been paying up for just
about as long. His slick tongue had served him well that long,
but in December of 1990 it all caught up to him. It all caught up
to him, of course, in the form of a bullet lodged deep into the
old man's heart.
Jonathan's mother had walked him across the street because they
needed bread for their dinner, but as they approached the front
of the bakery Jonathan started to hear shouting. One voice he
knew was the owner of the store, the other he had never heard
before in his life. This other voice, however, would soon be one
he would fear and respect for years to come. His mother
apparently saw something she didn't like, as she crouched down in
front of the window. Jonathan would eventually come to realize
this was because she had seen the gun.
While his mother was distracted, little Jonathan moved to where
he could see inside the bakery. Simply through a little crack in
the otherwise impenetrable wall of posters and warnings that
usually blocked the rest of the window. What he saw drew more
curiosity than fear from the young boy. Through that window young
Jonathan witnessed a very tall, well-dressed man. Black hair hung
neatly just along the edge of a very expensive looking hat. While
Jonathan was mesmerized with this hat, he felt his mother's hands
come down to cover his ears. He had just enough time to feel this
before he heard the gun shot, reverberations from the sound
seemed to echo through Jonathan's body. He looked just in time to
see the old man crumble to the floor of his beloved bakery,
pooled in blood, and the powerful looking man starting to walk
out. Stuffing something oddly shaped deep into his pocket.
Jonathan would later realize that this was a gun.
As the man crossed the street, a strong gust of wind struck.
Nearly causing Jonathan to fall to the ground, and the man's
expensive hat blew cleanly off of his head. It came to settle
down beside Jonathan's feet. Even as a four year old, this is
when he knew what he wanted to do. He bent down to pick up the
hat, watching that powerful man walk off into the crowded
streets. The sounds of sirens were to quickly follow. Jonathan
would go on to have dreams of this day for most of his childhood,
and it always mystified him how just one little day so greatly
influenced his life to come.