In March of 1953, San Francisco, a 26 year old man named William who wears a black mask and a black suit takes down a local mob. A 54 year old man named George is sentenced to a life in prison with one arm. How will these paths cross? Find out in Ma...
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It was night. I was laying in an uncomfortable bed while hearing the others in my cell sleep on the ground or in the other bed. My left hand hurt terribly even though it wasn't there anymore. I had chronic pain in my left hand before IT happened. I laid down trying to forget the vivid memories. I couldn't forget. I had flashbacks. I was back in my old self. It was 1937. I ran to a building and kicked down the door. "Stop right there, criminals!" I shouted in the door. "Get the Chicago typewriter," I overheard someone say. I ran up the stairs and yelled, "The Majuscule Mask is here!" I laughed and shot one with my gun. A flurry of bullets hit the wall. I ran downstairs and hid. I heard them walk downstairs. I stopped breathing. I heard the man with the Tommy gun get closer. I counted my bullets. I shot the man with the Tommy gun in the head. Then the next one in the neck. And the next in the eye. I reloaded and breathed again. I ran upstairs and was hit in the face. I flipped the gun and slammed the handle into their jaw. "Anyone else?!" I yelled. Someone hit my gun out of my hand. I hit their head. They hit my solar plexus and then uppercutted me. I took out a butterfly knife and slice his face open. He grabbed me and threw me out the window. I landed on a bar. My mask was surgically attached to my face, so it split open when it hit the bar. I yelled and got back up. I ran and jumped back in. I heard a shotgun being jacked. I felt immense pain and I quickly looked back at my arm. It was gone. Blood was all over my costume. I was screaming and couldn't stop. I landed on the bar again. Blood came out of my mouth. I screamed in hope someone would call the police. An hour or two later the police and an ambulance arrived. They took me in the ambulance and then put me in prison for manslaughter. I went back to being on the prison bed. It was 1953 again. I was in Alcatraz again. The flashback was over. IT was over.
