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.
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