User blog:II Finale II/Bittersweet - Prologue

Best Friends Forever.

That was what the hefty locket read as it fell spilled onto the floor, the golden linked dull with age, the dead man's falling hand smacking the box so hard it went flying, The empty, tattered contained hit the floor with a jaw rattling THRUM, almost making the room shake.

The survivor stood over the body, panting heavily. A thin wisp of smoke drifted lazily from the barrel of the gun at his side. He still remembered that locket, a stupid dainty gift he'd given to his best friend when they were much younger. He could still remember his excited giggles as he handed over the dumb parcel to him.

That was all over now.

"Sir?..." A shorter man with soft brown calculating eyes tapped him lightly on the shoulder. The small silver ring caught the light of the candle and flickered.

"Leave me be."

"Sir, we'll have to leave soon." He sounded rattled. "The sun will be up soon and the others will come to investigate..."

"Go back home." He felt terrible for pushing his companion away like this, but he needed time alone. "I-I'll go back later."

The Mafioso stepped back, confused, then plaintively strode out the open door.

Now alone, the room was oddly silent. Water dripped from a tap. The sound was so infuriating he was sorely tempted to shoot at it to make it shut up.

He stared down at the gun in his hand. All those years of planning, plotting, evidence gathering, lying and deception... all for this moment. The Mayor was dead.

Of course, there had been the problem about the Retributionalist and Medium, but he had taken care of that long ago. The liar would never be coming back to the town - at least not in one piece.

Hot anger clouded his mind, turned his vision red. All those times they were together, played together, talked together, it was all wasted. The Mayor shunned him like he was a mistake, and he was almost cast onto the streets.

The Investigator. The Jailor. The Sheriff. And many more had talked, plotted and supported this hypocrite.

His grip on the gun tightened.

"I'll kill them all," he snarled at the open, glassy eyes. "I will tear this town apart, bit by bit, until there is nothing left but dust. Your wonderful world will be destoried, brick by brick."

The body did not answer of course, but the Godfather carried on as if it had. "I don't care what you say! You MADE me this way. If it weren't for your stupid laws and... and her, you would've never died today! You would be still alive! We could've still been friends!"

Would we, though?

He forefully pushed the thought aside. "You're the one to blame. Your death, and soon their deaths."

"It's all your fault."

The leader whirled around, kicked the locket aside like garbage, and strode out into the moonless night.