8Evolution8
Star
- Joined
- Jan 20, 2010
A month ago it was all over the news. A well known and respected business man had been slay within his home. His family slaughtered like animals in their living room. This man had two identities that people could have sworn were a lie. On the outside he was like a father figure to those who grew up in the slums and ghettos of the city. An aging old man who was always there for those in need.
Behind closed doors he ran a small yet raising gang whom often had gun fights with the local mafias for respect and territory. These events were surely placed into the mind of everyone at attendance tonight. The man's successor had been named only that morning and already he silenced doubters of his rule. Angelo Hart had thought he put the gang life behind him long ago. His run in the Marines had helped him put this world in his past and open up new doors to his future. Even after he served his country, he never looked back.
Angel had become focused on the youth center he had opened up and giving back to the community. He wanted to show the kids there was another way out. Of course their was a string to that life he couldn't count, he could never turn his back on his childhood friend and his elderly father. Luckily they respected his wishes and never once brought the past up. This allowed those five years after he left the Marines to run smoothly. That was until he got the phone call, the one that changed his life.
This called stripped away the name the kids and parents had been calling him, killed the man they called their Guardian Angel. The report that a man he consider his blood and another who was like his own father had been brutally murdered. Now Angel found himself thrust back into a life he left behind. At that moment he sat at the middle of a table in the back of the large hall of something that was supposed to be a party. Old friends welcoming him back into the world of crime and celebrating his new found position. Granted they had picked a nice place on a beautiful Saturday night to throw it.
Sadly the twenty-nine year old man had no interest in him. His clean shaven pretty features showed no signs of amusement as he sat there in his Armani suit. All black with a blood red tie, one he had been wearing since that day. "C'mon man, have a drink and relax!" An old friend said as he passed him a cranberry and vodka while the others at his table looked to him with hopeful expressions. It was clear he was bringing down the mood. They were right though, how long should he mourn. "With ya ugly mugs in my face, how could I?" He questioned.
For now he would fake it, hopefully it began to stick.
Behind closed doors he ran a small yet raising gang whom often had gun fights with the local mafias for respect and territory. These events were surely placed into the mind of everyone at attendance tonight. The man's successor had been named only that morning and already he silenced doubters of his rule. Angelo Hart had thought he put the gang life behind him long ago. His run in the Marines had helped him put this world in his past and open up new doors to his future. Even after he served his country, he never looked back.
Angel had become focused on the youth center he had opened up and giving back to the community. He wanted to show the kids there was another way out. Of course their was a string to that life he couldn't count, he could never turn his back on his childhood friend and his elderly father. Luckily they respected his wishes and never once brought the past up. This allowed those five years after he left the Marines to run smoothly. That was until he got the phone call, the one that changed his life.
This called stripped away the name the kids and parents had been calling him, killed the man they called their Guardian Angel. The report that a man he consider his blood and another who was like his own father had been brutally murdered. Now Angel found himself thrust back into a life he left behind. At that moment he sat at the middle of a table in the back of the large hall of something that was supposed to be a party. Old friends welcoming him back into the world of crime and celebrating his new found position. Granted they had picked a nice place on a beautiful Saturday night to throw it.
Sadly the twenty-nine year old man had no interest in him. His clean shaven pretty features showed no signs of amusement as he sat there in his Armani suit. All black with a blood red tie, one he had been wearing since that day. "C'mon man, have a drink and relax!" An old friend said as he passed him a cranberry and vodka while the others at his table looked to him with hopeful expressions. It was clear he was bringing down the mood. They were right though, how long should he mourn. "With ya ugly mugs in my face, how could I?" He questioned.
For now he would fake it, hopefully it began to stick.