Star Soldier Zackarack SIDE TRACK: [GRIMM MEMORIA]

Chapter 1: Thicker Than Water

The Neon Lights of Olympus flicker above the holographic skyline. Flashing by as if Las Vegas and a rave have fused together into one swooping megalopolis. The Leisure District is one of the brightest sights in the city, filled with many bars, restaurants, and a few landmarks that would be considered pretty damned impossible to not ignore while driving around on a Sunday night.

So as one can see, the Leisure District could be considered as a main benefactor to this rampant light pollution. And yet, people would eat it all up. Either under the assumption that these people just love the purdy lil' lights, or they just can't sleep.

Maybe it's a combination of the two. Who knows?

The lights are a key feature of Olympus. Unparalleled to any other city on the face of the Earth.

And for Mason Winslow, it seems that those lights will be the last thing that he sees.

Taking up business throughout the district as a salesman, Mason looked like an ordinary Tom, Dick, and Larry. He was plump, yet not overly obese. He wore round glasses, yet didn't look completely like a Poindexter. He's just an average figure who has found himself inside a neon city.

But he wasn't really a man who could be trusted. Well, to the folks that run this city, of course. Money Laundering schemes, Tax Evasion, and even carrying empty promises to his benefactors from the Powers That Be put him in a rough spot. And now, he's crawling around a dingy alley. Huffing and puffing as the blood from his ankles poured out like a vermilion stream.

He's tired. He's been running ever since THEY found him walking out of his office. They looked like they wanted to discuss business, but he knew better. It could've been a case of paranoia about his benefactors failing to fulfill their agreements, but it turns out that it was EXACTLY the case.

They trashed his lavish, stylized Helios Hovering Vehicle. So really, it was flight or fight. He attempted to call the local Spartan police, but it turns out that it wasn't wise to be a dick to those who take control of your mobile data.

He ran right inside several buildings as he sprinted across the sidewalks of town, hoping to lose his pursuers. And yet, they somehow kept on chasing him down. Mostly scaling the roof tops the many skyscrapers or even blending in with the crowds that he shoved aside.

And then, while in the areas with little to no eyewitnesses, he'd get KNIVES thrown at him. Some scratching against his skin while drawing some nasty wounds. This should've drawn suspicion to any onlooker in the area. But the farther that he ran, the less eyewitnesses would see him. He took the unwise route of heading into the crummy alleys that were clearly not anything to admire. Mostly from the graffiti, stray needles, and a couple of piss stains.

They got his ankle. And in Winslow's mind, he's fucked. The damned machete almost cleaved his entire foot off, too. And if the blood loss didn't get to him, then his assassins will.

And how swiftly, too. For as soon as his literal back was against the wall, Mason could hear a slightly thud from the entryway of the alley. The thin, rather scraggly figure that has been chasing him down for at least five kilometers.

When he saw the assassin in the office, he was greeted by immediately not the friendliest face in the room. He saw a skinny, rather crooked man who appeared to be quite tall as well. He was pale skinned, had his hair done in a rather lengthy blonde ponytail, had eyes as red as blood, and seemed to have teeth that made him look like they were that of a blood-hungry wolf. Painting him out to be a predator amongst a herd of deer.

The gap between the two was rather lengthy, but Winslow's chances of escape were blown out of the water. He was cornered like a rat in a grungy, rather bloody place while his assailant was coated in the shadows. Holding his arms in his pockets as the neon lights flashing around reflected off what appeared to be the throwing knives attached to a bandolier strapped around his torso.