BANDIT II

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Stood in firelight, sweltering. Bloodstain on chest like map of violent new continent. Felt cleansed. Felt dark planet turn under my feet and knew what cats know that makes them scream like babies in night. Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion; bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else. Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us. Streets stank of fire. The void breathed hard on my heart, turning its illusions to ice, shattering them. Was reborn then, free to scrawl own design on this morally blank world. Was Rorschach. Does that answer your Questions, Doctor? - Alan Moore, Watchmen

A Week Later...

Santa Fe, Mexico

Omniscient...

"That's money give me my shit." Ramir snaps his fingers, grabbing the funds off the ground. The other guards smack their lips as he picks up the dice again. The men throw down their next money for the bet, waiting patiently for next gambler. 

"Aight nigga roll that-- seven." Guts says as he rolls the dice. He rolls an eight, smacking his lips as everyone laughs at his fail.

"Ahaha, nigga you thought you had money." Ramir teases.

"Ramir!" Octavius calls. He looks up seeing O out the window over his head.

"Why the fuck are y'all gambling on the side of my house, when y'all should be working! Put that shit up and do y'all fucking job!" Octavius orders, slamming his window shut. Ramir and the rest of the guys smack their lips, cleaning up the money and dice. 

"Aye homies I'll catch up with y'all, I gotta get my phone." Ramir says, checking his empty pockets.

"Aight, we'll be in the basement." Guts informs. Ramir nods, walking around the yard to the side of the house. He jogs down the steps, to his assigned car taking out the keys to it. Unlocking it, he opens the door to it climbing in.

A dark figure watches Ramir's every move carefully through the tinted window, slowly coming around the back of the car. Ramir of course, not paying attention steps out once he finds his phone. He turns around getting struck in the head, knocking him out cold to the ground. The person drags his body through the parked cars, throwing him in the back of a truck taking off.

"Nigga stop cheating and shit!" Guts exclaims to Pablo as they play UFC on the PlayStation console.

"I ain't cheating shit! You just don't know how to play nigga." Pablo chuckles as a cigarette dangles from his lips. Guts smacks his lips, flagging him off. He continues to play the best way he knows how, putting Pablo's character in a chokehold. All the guards laugh hardily as Pablo struggles to get his guy free from Guts who now has him pinned down.

"One...two...th-" Just then the powers goes out, darkening the basement. The guys all groan in annoyance.

"What the fuck!" Guts screams. "I was just about to win!"

"Nigga I was this close to beating your ass." Pablo chuckles. Guts smacks his lips. Since he's the youngest at eighteen, he gets picked on a lot by the other guys.

"Can one of y'all turn the power back on bruh, I need my phone to charge. My bitch already be on that bullshit when I don't answer my shit." Gains snaps.