Blood Soaked Metal: Ironblood

Prologue

Southern outskirts of Virginia

21st of November, 2015

It was a dark night. In the southern lands of Virginia, the streets were almost empty, excluding a few cars that went by every few minutes.

Although the streets stretched for miles, oftentimes there was nothing around. Every few miles there were the classic sketchy motels and a few service stations for those on the road but the silence of those distant and narrow roads was deafening.

A car pulled up to one of the said gas stations, a man and a child were inside.

The man stepped outside to refuel his car after the long drive he had been doing for almost 4 hours.

He stood quiet waiting for the car's fuel tank to be full. He stared at the price counter on the fuel station: 20.95 dollars.

"Good enough" he thought to himself. After paying for it at the atm embedded in the fuel station, he decided to head into the gas station store to grab some water and maybe something for his son to eat.

"Wait here, son" the man spoke calmly into the car window.

"Okay, Dad" the disinterested voice replied.

The man moved into the front entrance where 4 other men, with sketchy descriptions, stood talking about something he didn't understand. One of them turned around to face him, before sternly saying:

- Hey old man, I was over here talking with my mates about how we are running a bit low on cash - The gangster put his hand behind his back, reaching into the back of his pants - You wouldn't happen to have some on you, would you?

- I-... I'm sorry, friends but I barely have any money for myself and my son - the man replied with a tint of fear in his voice.

The gangster pulled a small pistol out of his belt and pointed it straight at the man's chest as his mates looked laughing sadistically.

- Let's try this again, old man - the gangster pulled the pistol's hammer back making a small click - Hand over the cash!

- Please, I would if I... - the man was interrupted by the opening of the door of the gas station's store.

Out of the store, came another man in his fifties, with a scruffy gray beard and an almost bald head. Equipped with a shotgun in hand, he fired into the air as he screamed:

- GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, YOU SCUM!

But the shot fired by the owner of the gas station wasn't the only one whose sound filled the night. A second shot had been fired.

As the innocent man looked down at his chest, clenching it with his right hand, a pool of blood flooded from the newly opened wound.

"DAD!" - a childish scream echoed in the night.

The man stared into the horizon as he saw what would be his last moments, before falling unconscious to the floor.

The gangsters, frightened by the shot, started running away from the gas station, laughing manically and bragging about killing a man.

Before they were out of sight, the child had gotten out of the car and ran as fast as his young legs could make him run.

The owner stood beside the man's body, his soul having already left and as he noticed the young child run towards him and kneel beside his dad, he uttered the only comfort he could give the grieving child:

- I'm sorry, Son...

And the child wept for he had lost his father...