𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄.

⌖ FAMILY IS THE DEADLIEST ENEMY | O12.
❝ loyalty & family don't always go hand in hand. ❞ ‹ ⚜ ›

— AUGUST TENTH
1O:35 A.M. ᐟ

"Like that" Jasiah grinned at the sight of his intention turned successful, after hitting the practice target dead center. Satisfied, he turned his head to look at his niece, Satori. "You gon get it eventually, just come with practice" He followed with a small shrug.

He handed the desert eagle pistol over to her before he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He stood clear of her space while still keeping a close eye on her positioning, because correct positioning determined the accuracy of the aim, and accuracy of the aim determined your fate.

The sun casted long shadows across the abandoned warehouse that Jasiah 'owned'. He never actually did the transaction of a purchase, but he claimed the warehouse as his. It was in the middle of nowhere, nestled in the heart of the woods, countless miles down a single two way road, a continuous paved concrete trail running along woods with no street lights to illuminate the path at night.

It was a place where Jasiah took a victim who wouldn't make it back out alive and Jasiah would be the last person they would lay eyes on and his voice would be the last thing to travel through their ears.

If one were to screamed at the top of their lungs no one would hear them, and if they just so happened to be lucky enough to escape, by the miracle of only God himself, attempting to walk back would only lead them to their death.

There was no signal to locate the building or to simply have any service on a cell phone. All the surrounding trees covered it over the top, shading it from any onlookers, so no plane or satellite could detect it.

It used to be a research facility heavily guarded by trained securities, many years ago. The equivalence of its importance and confidentiality would be modern day Area 51. Broken off deep in the middle of nowhere, where you were greeted with guards before ever actually laying eyes on the building itself. But the organization expanded and the need for a more modern, spacious facility became apparent. The decision was made to relocate, leaving the warehouse to a quiet solitude of the woods.

Now, its use was for masking screams and gunshots within its four walls, being a keeper of the repeated murders that occurred inside that the general world didn't know about. Countless missing person posters across the United States with picture attachments, a person whose last words would be a plead for Jasiah's mercy. Only the deserving person though, Jasiah's decisions are never completely unprovoked. Before the body would be taken to the backyard, to what had became a careless graveyard of untraceable human ashes and empty bottles of gas cans.

In this building, Satori stood beside him. Her knuckles turned white as her fingers wrapped around the cold metal of a pistol's grip, an infamous cause of innumerable deaths loaded neatly on the other side of the metal that pressed against her sweaty palm. This gun witnessed many bodies becoming lifeless because of the angry emotions of the owner who held it in front of them.