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Jacket's Journal

Chapter Text

 

Jacket's journal spiral notebook

Jacket's journal spiral notebookFound on the red sofa in his room

Found on the red sofa in his room

Jacket - normal
Richard - Italic
Others - Bold(they'll right their names)
S̶̛̝͔̮͋̌͘c̴̼̈́ŗ̶̢̯̩̖͉̐̏̒î̵͈̩͔̺̅̉̇̂͠ͅb̶̠̟̩̝͉̹b̸̧͕͕̩͈̽̋͊̑͆͜͝l̵̦̼̥͔̒̉̓̆͝ę̷͕̪̫̹͕͂͒s̴͚͕̤̞̩̓̇͘ ̷̯̃̒͜ơ̷͚̥̄̈́͆̾̆v̷͙͌̈́̑̏e̶̼̺͊r̸͇̤͉̬͋͋̈́̚ͅ

 

I apologize for my terrible writing of this fanfic and hopefully, some would enjoy it or not. I don't know.

Chapter Text

I've recently been recruited to a gang

I've recently been recruited to a gang.
Becoming another tool for another group.
A tool
in the war to see its comrades die, two in a building, one from a bomb.
A tool to a secret group that leaves hidden messages on the phone, killing and slaughtering. Finding love and comfort, only for her to be taken away from betrayal.
I've done everything, but I must have slipped.
A tool broken and beyond repair, yet still being used.

A tool:
Only speak when spoken to.
Take, follow, and listen to orders given to.
Make yourself useful.
Do not talk back.
Do not show weakness.
Do not show emotions.
Take less than others.
Be on guard and prepared.
Execute the targets.

Maybe they'll be different than 50 blessings

Maybe they'll be different than 50 blessings. Maybe.

'Wolf' was the one who recruited me and brought me in after the interrogation. He already told me about the plan about breaking out a friend from prison, how nice. The one there getting out goes by the name 'Hoxton'. He seemed happy, maybe excited, possibly from beating up the mobster or getting a new ṭ̴͂̀̈̑͝͝ō̸̢͓͇̩͇̿o̷̱̬̩̝͉͌̈́̇̆̈ļ̴̳̻̂̓ member. To be honest, I don't know why, but once he showed me where the safe house is, he still seemed happy when he gave me the tour.
He also showed me where my room is, which is nice, it's located on the basement floor next to a spiral staircase. My room was next to the gym area and a small hockey area, I'm guessing someone is into hockey and wanted a room for them to play possibly.
The other members of this gang aren't here, I'm told some are on a heist, some are on their way here from personal homes or some left for fresh air, something to eat, or possibly getting groceries to restock the fridge.
Somehow....it feels like home......something's wrong with me again, I highly doubt they'll keep me once their main plan is finished.


b̴̢̟́͊͝r̸͚͍̥̦̹͂͜͝͠i̷̫͉̿̒̈́̈́͋̕g̴̲͖͚̃̇h̴̨̬̯͔̦̗͛̉̿̈́̕t̷̨̗͖̦͔̊̾̈̈́̾c̵͇͚͗͠o̴͖̣͊͜l̶̫͙͉̼̕ỏ̵͙r̷̯̺̦͖͍͒ͅs̴͔̭̪̜͕̳̔̐̋b̸̡̪̻̅̎̓ľ̶̖ò̵̟̺̾ŏ̵̫̮͈͎̏̌d̵͔̣͑ḃ̵̪͓̲l̸͙̺͇̻͌̈́̍͘̚͝ō̵̩̭̖o̶̝̟͖̖̱͕̎͗̈̽̕ḑ̷̢͍͚̳̀͘b̴̛̬̔͒̽l̶̗̮͋̍̍͆̒̏ͅō̴͓̅ö̷͕̳͇̫̖́̂͒̋͝d̷̰͍̮̳͛͑̈́̓͘ḧ̷̳̗͆̿̽̍͝è̶̛̜̪̖̉̕ä̸͇̫͔́̆͆̽̋d̶̼̯̖̪̅́͜s̴͚̻̈̚ǫ̵͉͈̺͎̿f̴̫̮̭̻̱̆͊̚a̵̜̯̞͖̼͇̎n̸͖̰̜̲̙̈̓̋i̷͓͕̯̼͎̙͒͗͒͘͠m̴̖̳͗̽͊̽̄a̴̢̰͈͑̉͗͠͝ͅl̶̞̮̗̞̳̱̈́ş̶͎̙̗͙͙̾̿ ̴̛̠̣ḧ̴̠͉̪́͋ę̴̧͓̮́͒͐̕ĺ̷̥̥̥̬̺ͅl̶̮̼̅͑̐͘ǒ̸̝̫̳̾͘?̴̝̱̖̩̯̇̈̏

How did I get to Washington DC?
Wasn't there an explosion?
How did they find me?

Will they treat me as a human? An animal? Outsider? Or a simple tool?

 

 

I think I hear the van coming.
Here we go.

 

pg 1

 

---------------------------------------------------

Pg 2

Theirs more then I expected in the gang, PAYDAY is what the gang name is, I only expected 4 or 6 yet I've met 19 'heisters' in the gang. I think some or most dislike me.
Took notes from the first expression and from files, just in case.

'Wolf'
Age:34
Nationality: Swedish
The first one I met and been recruited by. He seems to be the technician and maniac of the group. He still smiles when he sees me, still don't know why...

'Dallas'
Age:44
Nationality: American
He seems to be the leader and mastermind of the group. He likes to wear suits and is cautious and carefully trying not to stain them...(he was eating a jelly donut). He was also uncomfortable talking to me.

'Chains'
Age:37
Nationality: American
The gun expert, I believe. He did seem uncomfortable when he saw me, but I  guess he must've seen my dog tags somehow. He also told me that he and Wick were in the same military unit, that's nice.

'Houston'
Age: 31
Nationality: American
The younger brother of 'Dallas'. The Ghost and Rouge, don't know what they mean, but he really doesn't like me. I'm guessing he's mad that theirs a  crazy psycho in the group, I don't blame him for being angry.

'Hoxton'
Age: 32(from files)
Nationality: Britain
One of the original main four of PAYDAY and the one we're going to break out, that's what 'Wolf' told me.

John Wick
Age: 46
Nationality: American
Professional  Hitman. Took out a Russian Mafia, but for his own revenge. He also likes dogs. I think he was trying to hide how uncomfortable he was when all I did was stare and listen.

'Jimmy'
Age: unknown(no one knows)
Nationality: British?
Another maniac, but mostly a cokehead. Discharged and bankrupt scientist, I  think. He didn't seem uncomfortable at all when he said random stuff to me(with a whole lot of sniffing). I think he assumes we're already friends, I feel like if he wasn't a coke head he would disagree.

'Scarface'
Age: unknown(apparently no one knows as well)
Nationality: Cuban
Cartel boss and kingpin in the gang. Isn't he from the 1983 remake of Brian De  Palma's? I mean he looks and acts and his fucking room is the same room from the movie, I got curious and he invited me in. He's a fast talker,  but I manage to understand what he means and such yet the only thing I  remember him saying like "Igotballsmandon'tfockwithme, khopesh?"

'Rust'
Age: 61
Nationality: American
Biker. Î̷̭̭͝ţ̷̨̤̙̌̍̓̊h̷̜̼̩͓̓͘o̷̼͇̰͗̏̄̎u̵̖̽̔̅͘͜ǧ̸̖̭͙͍̔̐̕͜h̷̢̼͇̅͐̀̓t̴̗͍̣̀̐͝͝i̷̼̔͗f̷̙̠͍̤̃̎͝ͅū̶̡͎̦ͅc̸̻͚͒̊̔͂̍ķ̸̹͔͎̑͆̄̒͗ỉ̴̦͕́͘ͅn̵̹̈́̐̒̅g̸̨̬̫̰̈́̉ḱ̴̪i̵̦̻̰̬͙̋̓̒l̸̨͍͙͈̼̅̈́̂͝l̵͔̥̍̓͝e̸̺͇̭͖͈̎͒̄d̸͕͕̜̔̏̂h̶̻̜̰̹̃̎̂̕i̷͔̲͈̙̔̔͝m̷̮̑w̶͓̼͎͍̑ͅȟ̶̦ÿ̴͕͑͝͝͝
He does look like the type of guy to own and ride a motorcycle. I think he'll kill anyone if they mess his bike. He told me he wouldn't mind sharing snack pudding with me, I don't know if it's a sign of accepting trust or that he has too much snack pudding and he needs help with them.  (their good though)
He didn't seem to care or didn't look uncomfortable.

'Sydney'
Age: 24
Nationality: Australian
Artist mask designer and Anarchist. She must've been the one who created most of the masks for this gang. I think she also a maniac as well, but not that much asJimmy or 'Wolf'? I don't know, but she said we both should work and stick together. I'll pass.

'Jiro'
Age:52
Nationality: Japanese
A  Yakuza, I've seen action movies about Yakuza's, I didn't think there will be one in this gang. He's on a mission though, searching for his son by the name of Kento. Gotta remember that just in case.

'Sokol'
Age:25
Nationality: Russian
Grinder(?)  And a Pro-Hockey player(Saint Petersburg Bombers). I think he hates me the most out of all the members. Though sometimes he always has a smirk on his face and looks smug at me. I don't know why, but now I'm guessing why he dislikes me the most. Was it I did in Miami or something else?

'Bodhi'
Age: unknown(same as the other two)
Nationality: Venezuelan
Ex-President(?),  strange role. He's a surfer dude, he misses the ocean and makes his own surfboards. I also think he owns the dry cleaning shop, it has his name on it I believe. Chill dude that didn't seem uncomfortable when he talked to me.

'Dragan'
Age:45
Nationality: Croatian
Infiltrator and Interpol agent. So, undercover police who mostly work out. Can someone die from just working out too much? I wonder if the gang had trust issues with him. He didn't seem uncomfortable talking to me but did kinda say I look a bit pudgy(which I kind of hear him say it to the others as well).

Bonnie
Age:43
Nationality: British
Gambler.  Tall lady, don't mess with, also don't tell her to stop gambling, I've been warned by 'Wolf' and others that know Bonnie gambling issue. She's seemed to used to weird things around her and didn't seem uncomfortable.

'Clover'
Age: 27
Nationality: Irish
Burglar and pro pick locker. A four-leaf clover is meaning of luck, five-leaf is uncommon, three-leaf means nothing. She's very determined to the plan on breaking 'Hoxton' out of prison. She seemed a bit uncomfortable, but  I believe she got used to me quicker than the others.

'Sangres'
Age:33
Nationality: Mexican
Sicario, fast heister with dual-pistols. A chill man who told me stories about him being an assassin for a cartel in Mexico. Maybe I can ask for some Spanish lessons, I have some training or random cassettes that are in Spanish.

'Joy'
Age:22
Nationality: American
Young hacker and cybercriminal. The youngest of all the heisters here, like little sisters that want to be apart of something big. She also likes games, I do have my NES in my room I wouldn't mind if she wants to play some games I have that survive.

'Duke'
Age: somewhere around 50, since he said he's in his 50's.(Or was it someone else?)
Nationality: American
Professional art Thief and Stoic. He seems like the guy to steal artwork and say he made it, possibly.  I also think he might be into some supernatural stuff on artifacts.

Bain
Age: Unkown
Nationality: American
Watcher, Coordinator, & Contractor to the PAYDAY gang. No one has seen his face and only hears his voice during heists. I wonder what Bain knows about me or the FBI, I did take the files from the police station in Miami...wonder if they found it back in my abandon apartment.

A long list of names.
Some I think are okay with me and others dislike me, I don't mind being hated, as long things get done then we're fine.
The only thing, they know about me is what I've done in Miami, Florida. Nothing more. Which is good, I don't want any pity.
Don't show weakness, Don't show emotions, be useful, take, and follow orders.

What a wonderful day, right?

 

Chapter Text

Pg 3

I can't dream, I don't think I have a reason to. What can I dream? Possibly something boring or possibly something weird or interesting.
Nightmares are the only place I visit in my sleep, waking up to a dark bathroom, hearing strange music in the other room, only to open the door and see three animal masks with human bodies.
Don-Juan, a female wearing a grey horse mask, sitting underneath a blue light. Pity.
R̵͖͖͐i̸̥͎͊̚c̵̺h̵̼̘a̴͖͠ṟ̸͑d̶͈͗̇, a male wearing a similar rooster mask as me, but more lifelike, sitting underneath a yellow light. Judge.
Rasmus, another male wearing an owl mask, and also wearing similar clothing as a Russian mobster, sitting underneath a red light. Anger.
Each have their own personality and questions.
I thought I wouldn't see them again, I thought I've escaped my own questions of torture, but I guess I'm still trapped.
Stuck in my own limbo.

Did he write down the questions, how? I don't know, all I can do is answer and wait for the words to appear.

Where are you right now?

Washington D.C

Can you trust them?

It depends, but for now, yes

Do you remember what happened on December 20, 1991?

I was in a jail cell and there was an explo̶͈̟̭̯̖̘̤͘ş̵̫̠̩͙͇̣͋ĩ̴͉̟̼̙͔̎̓̏̃̿̕͝o̵̧̲̝̥̖͔͋͊͑̅͘n̸͔͙͉͠

Wrong, maybe we need to refresh your memory again, luckily it will be a short one, but not now.
W̷̨̐ë̷̜̳́͝'̶̺̈̊v̴̂͒͜e̶̢̲̓͝ ̵̥̭̈́ḿ̷̠͎i̶͉͐s̷̛̞̐͜s̸̖͎͌ē̸͚̳ḑ̴̮̊ ̷̭͝y̶̡̦̎͠ó̸͕u̶̯͔͐ ̵̝̩̂a̴͙͓̿n̶̢̪̕d̷̼̀ ̶̪̲̓w̴̲̙͆̀ĕ̴̩'̸͔̮̏͝r̵̞͊ͅe̵̗̐̓ ̴͉̬͋d̴̦̗̂y̴̮̦͒i̶̜͘n̵̠͑̑g̸̥̪̑ ̸̳̔̏t̸̳̯̕o̵̱̍ ̶̺̻̂́ŝ̸̟̣̈́e̴̤̕ͅe̸̹͂ ̴̤ͅy̷͇̰̌́o̷̗̜͌͝ù̴̻ ̴̟̔ḁ̵̧̊ḡ̶̨a̷̖͝ī̴̛͎n̶̖̺͗.̸̧̓

I can't erase them, they keep coming back.
It's only him writing, not the other two.

I'm not well.
Yet I don't know what's wrong with me.
Is it normal for blood to be colored pink? Why is it beautiful.
I see through the television, my own vision being filled with static then slowly fading away, but the sound is still there.
My head hurts.
I can still feel the bullet, yet it went through my brain.
T̶̼̏h̴̳͊͑e̷̩͒ ̷̖̙͌̈ḟ̴̮̤u̶̔͜c̵̝̯̏k̷̯͑̕i̴͔̐̒n̵̞̝͆̐g̶̘̎ ̶̯̿r̸̺͇͊a̸͉̿͋t̶̟͚͝ ̵̲̦͐s̷̪͒h̶̫̃͒o̴̺͝ü̶͇l̸̘͖̂̚d̴̜̓ ̸̖̚b̶̥̀e̵̠̤̍ ̵̱̳͂f̸̩̖̏͝u̵̳̎c̸͖͊̆k̶̡̯͌̉i̷̳̅̕n̸̝̭͑g̵̹͕̉̓ ̶̛̰̣ṕ̸̨͝ō̵͇i̵̲͂̈s̷̆̓͜ǫ̵̲̂͌n̸͙̼̏ȩ̷̘̓d̴̙̽,̶̮̆ ̷̼̊b̴͉̌̕ë̵͍̼́á̷͖̹ẗ̵̢̲́̑ḙ̵̱̕n̸̬̼͋̊,̵̻͘ ̸̬̭̓͌s̶̗̐l̷̠̘̅̿a̶͕̅u̵̼͋͐g̷͓̥̐͝h̶̛͈͋t̵͎͠͝e̶͍̜͋͝r̸̥̖̃ę̶̬̽d̸͈̋͝,̵̰͋͘ ̸̨͘Í̶̩ ̴̟̻̈́s̷͖̉̏p̴̢̖͂̊ả̸͔͜r̶̟͖̽͝e̸͕͔̒d̸̠̓̾ ̸̦̽h̴̡̩͂i̷̳͕͑͆m̴͕̍ ̷͔̏o̴͍͙̿ñ̴͇c̶͇̎ę̸̩̉ ̶̼͆I̴̠̽̑'̷͕͌́l̵͚͎̄l̴̢͓̈́ ̵̪͛́n̵̙͕̐̌ē̴͙̹v̵̳̦͆ḙ̷͖̆̌r̸͖͇̎ ̶͙̅͠d̷̬̩̓o̸̲͇̕͝ ̵̲͂i̵̩̤̍ṱ̸̡̒ ̷̱͕̀͠a̵̛̙g̸̠̯̐̔ả̴̢ḯ̷̱̳n̶̼̾̊ ̶̼̼͊ḯ̵͍̤f̷̟̙̅̈ ̵̳̫̍I̶͇͚̋͘ ̵͍̲͛s̸͙̲͊ȇ̷̜̎ẻ̸̠̊t̴͙̒͒ḩ̵̞̀͠e̵͙̲̒̐f̴͇̈́͝ǘ̴̪c̶͕̱͛̾k̴͙͎̈́̕i̶͙̿͠n̸̻̩̍̓ǵ̸̠r̶͎͌a̷̙̓t̴͖͆ṱ̶̬̏h̷̜̠̄ȧ̶̦͠ţ̸͖̐k̷̠͖̊i̵̹̙͋l̴̫͋͗l̵̘͉̚ḗ̸͖d̸̡̫͗h̶̙̾e̶̡̞̎r̷̖͎̚

'Sokol' complaining about the tiny goal to 'Dragan' again, I think we have enough to get a bigger hockey goal for him.

Why does 'Dragan' work out in a suit? he'll have issues with sweaty pits on his white button-up. I would work out too, but I don't think I can while 'Sokol' watches, it doesn't feel right...yet weird.

I think 'Dallas' is setting up a bank heist for me, to prove if I'm worth it on the group.
Simple bank robbery, steal as much as we can, get out. Simple. Maybe. Maybe I've been watching too many movies that have simple bank robberies in them, same with the news in the '80s...
Maybe something new, I've kind of seen 'Wolf' tech work, accidentally took the wrong stairs somehow and ended up where 'Wolf' room or station is. He has pieces of a turret he's working on and a drill that seems to be ready to use. Yet I've been told the drills we have kept breaking down time to time, so we'll either be lucky if the drill doesn't break on us.

It's best to keep distancing myself from the other heisters. It's better that way. I'm afraid. That I'll mess up again and they'll die because of me. I don't know if their listening or know where I am, but it's best to keep a distance and don't fuck up.

I think they're making up stories about me, how I came to be. "A sociopath that just wants to satisfy their blood lust" "someone with mental issues" "just a psycho, how can we trust him?" "A mute freak that follows orders from a fucking phone"
I mean, their getting close, some aren't that close.
They don't know the whole story and its best that they only know my work then the story I have.
I highly doubt that if I tell them, they'll think I'm lying and just created a pity story.

I think I hear 'Wolf' coming, I mean he sometimes whistles or does little howls when he's getting close to my room.

He still smiles at me...
Why is he happy to see me..?
What did I do?

————————————————————————

I need to hide this journal. Now.
'Wolf' saw this journal on my workbench, I can tell he's curious of what I write down.
Maybe I can tear out the pages.

No. It will make me look suspicious. Make them lose a bit of trust in me.
Just need a hiding spot.

The boxes may do, but I heard the rooms are being upgraded, so I might have to unload some of the boxes and throw them away. I might keep some to hold my games and cassettes.

Couch Cushions? another maybe, I don't know if I'll get a new one or I'm staying with the small one. Though I don't mind keeping the one I already have, I think I've gotten used to sleeping on the couch. Plus, no one comes into my room and just talk to me, maybe 'Wolf'(only when he's bored or if he wants to play some games).

Couch cushions it is. I can easily remove the cushion parts to clean the inside of the couch. Hopefully, I don't bend this journal, just add in more damages on the cover and paper.

Wait, why did 'Wolf' come to me?
Oh, right.
Group meet and plan at 2 PM.
I need to make sure to get there on time since we're planning my first heist.
Don't fuck it up. Listen and follow orders. Be useful.




'Sokol' is complaining again and 'Dragan' is getting even more sweaty in his suit.
Good thing they didn't force me to wear one...

 

Chapter Text

 Pg 4

The heist went loud.
I was in charge of getting the drill(which Bain kept repeating endlessly), the others were to scope out the area and see if we can get the key card from the manager.
The issue was the vault location.

It was in the wide-open with the civilians, facing the entrance.

They did say stealth was an option, yet it didn't seem like it was stealth approve.
The heisters that were with me were 'Dallas', 'Wolf', & 'Chains'. The 3 main four of the original PAYDAY gang.
I'm guessing they are the three judges I need to impress or that the others didn't want to come along with a mute freak that uses a Walkman to speak.
Still don't blame them.

They manage to get the keycard and eliminate some of the guards. (We missed one that was with the civilians at the entrance)
I took out the one that was looking through the cameras and waited for more instructions.
Which then had the three come through the entrance and gotten everyone down on the ground, also taking out the final guard and answering the pager.

'Chains' helped me set up the thermal drill.
A lot of pieces for something that looks empty and skinny.
Also had a lot of seconds to drill through the vault lock(had to restart multiple times, fun).

We were busy building, 'Wolf' & 'Dallas' tying up the civilians, we didn't see one crawling to the alarm button and pressing it.

All I can say that there was blood.
Lots of blood and bullets.
Multiple colors sprayed the walls. All I heard was screaming and yelling while static slowly took over my hearing.
The only thing I cared about was the crew I was with and that I didn't hurt any of the civilians.
I may be a sociopath, mute freak, psycho, but I dislike killing innocents. I don't go that far into the killing.
I only murder the ones that harm them ỏ̸̠̠͌̏r̸͙͕͍̬͋̎̇̉͜͝ ̶̹̼͔̆͝m̸̜̳̩̆̓̊͛̄ͅẏ̸͕͙͝ ̸̟͔̄̚f̷̘͙̮̅r̴̯̽̈́̎̾î̶̟̒̈́̈́e̸͈̺͒͐̾̎͜͠ñ̸̡̥̩d̷̪̊̆̓s̶̬̀̈́.̸͚̱̙̂̽͘͝.̶̠͔͚̜̞̂͋̌

I don't think I'm well.
I don't think I'm fine.
The others were fine, bullets only scraped their arms and legs, no collateral damages, nothing fatal happen.

I didn't see nor hear what the results are.
Was it successful? Did I fail?
We did manage to bag some money that was on the table, didn't have time to unlock hundreds of deposit boxes.
Bain sounded relieved that we finally left, but I think he was relieved that the three that were with me survived.

There was a lot of silence coming back to the safe house.
The van felt tense even though 'Wolf' was 'Wolf', he was either oblivious or just didn't care and wanted to break the silence. He whistled, howled, and laughed. 

I was covered in blood.

Who's blood? Certainly wasn't mine or the three.
Yet 'Wolf' has his arm on my shoulders laughing and saying that I looked like I was having fun beating the shit out of cops and swats with my hammer and Uzi.
It was fun.
I had a great time.
Maybe he should've worried about getting the blood out of his suit.

I think the others are starting to have second thoughts.
Finally seeing how much damage I can do with a single weapon against an armored enemy, those helmets didn't do shit to protect their heads.
I can use anything and make it into a weapon.
A spoon to scoop your eyes out.
A fork to stab your limbs and lungs.
A knife to stab your heart and back.
Anything.
Well, possibly not toilet paper, unless it gets shoved in your mouth.
'Wolf' would possibly agree.
He can use anything and upgrade it until he thinks it's perfect for a killing unless he has a drill on him then good luck to any cop or bulldozers (haven't seen one yet)

The mask's I took out from the boxes and hung up on the wall above my workbench.
Rasmus, Audrey, Don-Juan, & Tony.
Stare down at me as I work on my cassettes.
I can hear them whisper up there, sometimes they tell me random advice.
"playing a sport teaches you everything about life."
"Hurts like a bitch, but it's the right thing to do."
"People always change."
"When you drop something, someone will pick it up for you."
"Who are you today?"

I don't know.
I've taken the name Jacket.
I don't remember my real name, someone must've taken it.

I need an appointment with a doctor.

I can't tell if the hallucinations are getting worse, yet I've gotten used to the colors I've seen being painted on the walls, mix colors of blood. Blood is supposed to be red, only red, why is it pink? Why is it yellow? Green? Blue? Black? White?

It's very beautiful.

At least I don't see any dead bodies walking and talking. Dead bodies of the ones I've killed and seen are Russian mobsters. Some with their heads bashed in and cracked, showing their brains and skull and bone, some sliced in half and can only walk with their hands. Sometimes the attack dogs, which I think Wick would've hated if I told him I killed dogs that attack me.

'Sokol' complaining was soon replaced by sounds of Bodhi working on a surfboard.
I wonder what color would it be.
Will it be a long one or a short one?
Two or one fins?
What kind of pattern goes through Bodhi's head when he paints them?

I do hear some footsteps coming down the stairs and a bit of 'Wolfs' whistle.
Has the judge's decided already?
I wonder what my sentence is.
'Wolfs' whistle did sound happy or had excitement on the notes.
I wonder who's with him.

Did they take the wrong stairs?

--------------------------------------------------

Apparently, I'm worthy to stay, despite the chaos at the bank.
'Wolf' & 'Chains' brought the news, 'Wolf' seeming happy and excited again, while 'Chains' was proud? I must've heard his tone of voice wrong. Possibly.

'Chains' left first, saying he had to fix or put together some guns with upgrade parts.
Maybe he got uncomfortable from the state my room is in or just me in general.
'Wolf' stayed for a bit longer, he must've noticed that my journal is nowhere to be found, or he must've been taking a look at how many cassette tapes I have all over the floor.
He did question about the animal masks and how many I have.

To be honest, I lost count on how many I have, yet I remember the names they hold and taken from the owner.

'Wolf' gave me a strange mail, told me it was underneath the pile of cash we were shoveling into duffle bags.

How did I miss it?

How did I miss it?

It has my name on it.
What's inside? their something more than a simple letter, something small with weight.
'Wolf' is curious too.

A familiar pink letter and a strange flip phone.
Both having the same symbol I wish I didn't see again.
They know I'm here.
How did they know about the heist?
How did they get this mail in the vault?
I can't escape.

The phone, the strange flip phone, is this how I'll get the voicemails? The calls? The messages?
I would let 'Wolf' or 'Joy' hack the phone, but it's dangerous.
I had to kill a person who was getting close to figuring out the truth of 50 Blessings.

Yet, all I thought in Miami was that I was getting the calls from the Russian Mafia.
How stupid was I, I deserve the punishment that came when I failed the mission. 

S̸͖͝h̶̡̖͙͛́͆ͅẽ̸̪̯ ̷̞͗̌̈́d̶̰͑e̴̲̬͇͆ş̵̞e̵͔̲͌̐̂̚r̸̼̠̘̒̏͠v̶̡̛̱̳̌͑͝e̵̜̗̾d̶̺͎͔̤̔ ̸̧̌̈́͝͝b̷̪́͂̈́ė̵̡͙̺̥͋̎t̴͓̦͉͂͆͗t̷͈̦͍̓̌͘͝e̸̢̳̮̿̑̓͊ṛ̷͕̮͂͠ͅ ̷̨̫̌̾̋ţ̸̱̟͉̉̏͘h̸̜̱̆ä̴̢͕̣͙́͛̔̕n̵̤͓̦̑̂ ̴͓̂̀̽b̸̙͔̓̄ͅẻ̶̲i̷̱̫̻̠͛͂n̶̖̈́͝g̸̡͗͠ ̷͓w̶̛̱̘̄͝i̴̧͓̯̥̓͝t̵̘͛͊̕h̷̰̼̫͚̍̂͑ ̸̩̲̼̤̓͠͠a̵̞̻̯ ̷͔̩̭̤̓̃́͝m̷̫̙͇̹͂̅͠u̵̢͙̲̪̕t̷̙̝̤̝̾̓͐ȩ̷̛͕̻̦̑̏ ̷̯͆̈ͅf̸̩̐̊̉͊ṙ̴͕͆ệ̶̙̫̞͛̓͠ą̷͇̞͛̏̓̆ͅk̵̯͚̆͝͠

Does Bain know about them?
Will this cause the trust issue's to begin?
'Wolf' seemed curious about who 50 Blessing's are and worried? (possibly from the gang being found out and being sold out)

50 Blessing's

Hello special member!
We hope your having a great vacation in Washington DC!  We sent this letter to inform you that there appears to be some work that needs to be done there. We hope you don't mind working during vacation times!
We also sent you a flip phone for communication purposes!
Simply mails, calls, or voice mails of any updates in our group! Please use the phone as well if you have any questions!
We're open ears!

Thank you for subscribing to our newsletter.
We appreciate your interest in our cause.
America is a tune. It must be sung together.

- 50 Blessing's

 

"50 blessings? Do they actually give you 50 blessings? is this like a church god thing? Did you just join a cult?" - 'Wolf' (if I remember correctly of what he said to me)

No, they don't give blessings, only orders of death.
it isn't a religious thing, the name may say otherwise, but I assure you it isn't anything about god.
It might be a cult since they recruit ex-military men and have them wear a plastic animal mask to kill mobsters.
('Wolf' left, possibly very curious and might look up 50 blessings on his computer. I learned that 'Wolf knows sign language, so luckily I didn't have to waste time with my Walkman or take out my journal.)

 

He smiles and waves goodbye.

I forgot to ask why he does that.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

pg 5

Who should I bring when the time comes?
When the phone rings?
Should I bring my bat? Knife? Or Uzi?
How many will I be dealing with?
Are the cops smarter this time than the ones in Miami?
Will I cause trouble for the gang?
How much blood will be shed?

I think 'Wolf' may have told the others about 50 Blessings. Possibly try to see if they can track them down in Washington, which I doubt would work or be worth it.

It's best if they don't.
It's easier and safer if I play the game again.
Gain points and see if I unlock another weapon or mask.
How many points will I get for this level?
3000? 12450? 400? It depends on how many there are and how many ways I kill them without them touching me.

They whisper, but I can still hear them.
I wish I could've kept that stress ball I had in court, it helped to distract me from my surroundings, yet sometimes it looks like I'm about to pop it.
I doubt anyone could've kept their sanity's from how much stress and shit I've been through.
How much headaches and pain I suffered from, the voices, the hallucinations, the static, the colors.
I doubt 'Wolf' would've survived from all of that.

Near midnight, but I don't want to meet them again.
They'll only repeat their questions until I finally get it right. How long will I be guessing then?
Dreams are only for the ones who are normal or who have their sanity in check.
Dreams don't come easily to me, if I do, I only get static and hear distant screams of the ones I killed.
I wonder if my lack of sleep will be an issue, but I manage to work fine in the past, so this isn't any different. 

The game begins, feeling the phone vibrate in my letterman pocket

The game begins, feeling the phone vibrate in my letterman pocket. 
New Game save, the first level, will it be located in an apartment? two or three-story building? run-down building?
How many points will I get? What will my high score be? How many enemies are there? How many weapons? Melee or Gun? How many ways to execute?
Maybe I should bring back a souvenir from the levels I complete. 

Ey! This is 'Doni' from college bro!
I've invited you to my birthday party, I hope you remember this special day!~
The party is at my new crib! The landowner allowed me to make it loud and fun!
Dude, Bring some snacks and booze! A lot of dude's and dudettes are coming over!
Oh! If ya want you can bring a +1! The more the merrier!
My place is at 'Webster Celyn 175 Carne street #104'

Don't be late! This place is getting packed!

 

Webster Celyn 175 Carne street, room #104, somethings in there.

Let the games begin.

 

--------------------------------------------------

Payday
Safehouse
10:36 PM

The Burglar watches through the CCTV cameras, checking on the other heisters while watching for any other burglars or spies that dare trespass the safe house. What she wasn't expecting to see a chicken Sociopath entering the garage, passing the Anarchist who's busy with her own things to notice the chicken. Speaking of which, the Sociopath was holding a wooden baseball bat and an empty duffel bag. Heading outside and out the gate, heading to his car. Most of the heister's left to their own personal homes, some with families or just going home to sleep.

Though behind the Burglar, through the thin glass window, is the Mastermind Chief and the Ghost Rouge. Looking through files and paper for anything to help with the plan or simply wait for a call from one of the contractors for any new heists tomorrow.

"Anything happening on the cameras Clover?"
Said the Ghost. "Nah, nothing good happened, but our new member decided to get some fresh air and possibly doing a solo heist." She didn't turn around, knowing they can hear her through the glass, eyes still on the camera as she continues watching. Some members who are still at the safe house were still doing their own things, some yawned and some are ready to head back to their own homes or rooms. There a secret doorway that leads to a connected apartment building, which looks run down from the outside but clean in the inside, some windows boarded in, and the outside walls sprayed painted with words and doodles. The apartment has two floors, each wooden door leads to bedrooms assigned to heisters who don't have personal homes or families to go to.

"So that mute psycho decided to leave? Bet he gotten bored and decided to go kill a group of people.."
"Houston." Said the chief as he looked at his brother, looking a bit annoyed as he has to hear him complain about the new member. "I highly doubt he left just because he's bored. Clover, did he bring anything with him?"
"He brought his wooden bat and a duffle bag."
Houston looked at his brother, giving him an 'I'm-right' look. "He must've gone to do a solo heisting, stop giving me that look and stop complaining. He hasn't done anything wrong since he's been here and he did well during his first heist."
"It doesn't matter if he did well, he's still a psycho, the only thing we know about him is that he took out the Russian Mafia by himself and took orders from a fucking phone! He could just slaughter us before we know it if he hears a phone ringing!"
"What about Wick? He's basically done the same thing."
"He didn't take hidden messages from the phone and he talks!"

The Chief sighs and rubs his face, tired and done with the complaining. "Don't make me force you into a room with him and lock the door until you finally stop complaining Houston.."
"You wouldn't!" Gasp the Ghost. "He'll instantly slaughter me!"
"Stop being so dramatic, Wolf likes him and basically became friends with him. If Wolf can interact with him normally, then you can too."
"Wolf instantly became friends with because he's a maniac! Plus, he barely knows him and just became friends after interrogating a mobster!"
"Look, the new contractor we're gonna meet or know soon said that we have to find and take out the Commissar or any Russian mobsters for any info where Or which prison Hoxton is or being transferred to."
"Come on! I feel like that's their way for us to meet the guy and we haven't met this other new person yet!?"

Clover just simply listened to both brothers and kinda felt annoyed herself. She asked a question to the brothers, hoping it wouldn't add fuel to the fire Houston had started.
"Why not ask Wolf if he knows where Jacket is going? To see if he's truly gone out to just slaughter people."
Both the chief and ghost looked at her back through the glass.
"Houston. Go ask wolf."
"Hey!-"
"Go. Now. I still need to look through these files then clean up." He says as he stretches hearing some of his bones pop and gives Houston a big brother/leader look.
"Fine..."

Houston left the room and went downstairs to the main floor, taking another set of stairs that were closer to where Wolf and Wick's stations are. Coming down to the basement and taking a left and entering the training and tech room. Seeing that Wolf was still up and working on one of his turrets. Houston noticed that Wick wasn't here, he must've left home early than the others. "Wolf." the Technician jumps a bit from the quiet being broken around him as he turns around in his swivel chair to see Houston looking a bit annoyed and a bit upset. "Oh! Hey Hous! What's up?" Houston looked around, thinking of what to ask, despite him not wanting to talk about the new member. "Do you know where uh Jacket is going?" Wolf tilted his head and thought for a minute then shook his head "No. I didn't know Jacket left to be honest, even though his room is basically down the hall."
"Great. Thanks for answering Wolf." Houston sighed and turned around and left the room, upset.

Wolf noticed it and wondered what made his friend upset. Possibly from his answer? Or possibly from the lack of info they have on Jacket and how much secret and mystery he has. Luckily Wolf knows one thing and he didn't want to share it with Houston or the others. It's what friends do, right? Keep in friends secret until their courage and brave enough to tell the secret themselves. Plus, I don't think it would end well if he did tell them about what he knows, but he is curious where they sent his chicken friend. Wolf turned back around to continue working on his turret.

At least Jacket won't start stealing Aldstone's phone.

 

 

Chapter Text

Close to midnight, the safehouse is dead and quiet. Each heister has gone to their homes and bedrooms to sleep. Except for one heister, staying up to work out in the gym without having another trying to one-up him or showing off.

Sokol was using the dumbbells, doing the easy work out first. He would've started using the bench press, but using the dumbbells seemed to be the easier way and a ready up before using the bigger weights. It's dead silent in the basement, from the lack of Wolf using his tools, Dragans grunts and complaints, Bodhi power saws, and Jacket testing out random cassette tapes.

It made Sokol uncomfortable from the lack of noises that he's used to, but he has the chance to use the gym without Dragan showing off or starting a competition that will leave his body sore. So he's using his opportunity to work out, he would practice his hockey skills, but the goal is very tiny and kid-size it ruins the illusion of him back in Russia with his team.

Sitting on the edge of the bench press, since theirs no other benches to sit on, lifting weights with his right hand. Sokol works out, in thought about his team in Russia thinking how they're doing while he's in America. Thinking about the gang he's joined, makes him think of the gang as a big family of weirdos with their own weirdness. Then his thoughts go to the new member, that left about almost an hour ago, wondering where the chicken head has gone that required a baseball bat. The new member is strange, yes, but all the others are strange too. Yet, he seems to stand out, not wearing a suit nor a clown mask, does not speak normally but only through a Walkman Cassette recorder and hasn't removed his mask once he got here or when he got back from his first heist.
Very strange.

Sokol then looked to his right, looking through the two tanks and a fence to see Jacket's room. The only thing lighting up in the room is the neon skull sign that hangs up on the wall, the cement floor littered with empty cassette tapes. There must be a store that sells cassette tapes of songs or training instructing, if there isn't then how the hell did he get so many of them? Was he prepared to be forced to talk? Possibly, you'll never know.

Sokol remembers hearing scribbles or pencil on paper noises coming from Jacket's room when it was just only Jacket and him. It makes him wonder what the chicken was writing, something secret? creating a hit list or any other lists, or just doodle from boredom? Sokol knows better than to snoop around another heisters station without them there, it's rude, plus trying to find something secret is even ruder. He learned the consequences while going through Sydney drawing station to see if there were concept designs for his mask, yet he found some other drawings he wasn't meant to see.  Let's just say the Australian is trying to find a lucky charm for herself to keep.

Sokol shook his head, trying to remove the memory from what he's seen and the ass-kicking he got from Sydney, also the humiliation she did on him. Luckily, he heard some footsteps coming down the spiral staircase distract him from the memory, thinking it's Aldstone coming down for a midnight check in to make sure everything all tidy and blood-free.

What he wasn't expecting was a bloody chicken holding a baseball bat covered in blood and possibly some brain pieces on it, a hammer sticking out of his pants pocket that seen better days covered in blood as well and an Uzi that he holds in his opposite hand, staring at him.
'He must've thought there would be no one down here' thought Sokol.
"Rough night?" He said to the bloody chicken.
Jacket only stared at the Russian grinder for a couple of minutes, which almost felt like hours to Sokol and head to his room.
Sokol decided that it was time to head to his room, so he put down the dumbbell and stretched, already feeling his arm becoming sore and almost his entire body from the day itself. He said goodnight to Jacket and head upstairs, already know that the only answer he's getting is a stare and silence.
Going through the door and into the connected apartment and through the wooden door to his bedroom. His room is simply a teenage athlete's style, hockey poster of his team, or the team he cheers for on his wall, hockey sticks above his bed forming an X, a stand that holds some trophies he earned before he left and pictures he cherishes dearly for memories. Sokol Changes into his pajamas and lays down in his bed, thinking about tomorrow and the bloody chicken he recently saw, wondering where did Jacket go to get all bloodied up and why? Who did he beat the shit out of?

Sokol smacked his face, he forgot to ask if Jacket was injured. Though he didn't see any cuts or bullet wounds on him when he stands perfectly still for Sokol to quickly inspect with his eyes, plus he didn't seem to have any limping issues when he walked down the stairs or when he went into his room.
He sighed and simply rolled over to sleep, thinking of what tomorrow's gonna be like.

-----Webster Celyn Apartment-----
-10:58 AM-

Blood covered the floor and painted on the walls as dead bodies of Russian mobsters littered the floor with guts and pieces. Yet there are some bodies of policemen and SWAT littered the floor too. A civilian heard gunshots and bloody murder happening at the apartment and did a quick dial to make it stop, but it only made it worse.

Do they truly think they are safe here?

Many bodies showed different ways of how they were killed, some have their heads bashed open and showing their brains, some shot in the head once or multiple in the torso, some with their limbs torn off and thrown to random spots some with their bodies all twisted and head snapped or strangled.

The police are weak.

Not many came here.

A lone man who responsible for the killing spree clutched his Uzi, the cover painted with blue and hot pink with black trees to resemble Miami and a vaporwave feeling, stood in the hallway. Looking at all the bodies, as if he can hear them screaming or laughing at him as part of their fingers or limbs twitch from time to time, but it's only hallucinations. He begins walking down the bloody hallway, hearing grunts. A tied-up Cloaker squirming and trying to break free from the zip ties as he was surrounded by his fallen comrades. Hoping that once he breaks free, he can take down the killer and the job will be finish, but it wouldn't. The Cloaker heard footsteps hitting the wooden floor along with the sounds of squishiness from the blood and dead bodies.

The Cloaker began to panic that the psycho was coming closer, trying to break free while hearing a grunt from one of the police members, who only got knocked out when the Chicken threw his bat at him to take him down while slaughtering the rest.
'Don't get up don't get up!' The Cloaker repeated in his mind while watching the police member get up while holding his head, only to be shot in the head once from an Uzi that only had one bullet left.
The Cloaker froze, slowly turning his head to see the killer psycho himself, staring back at him and tilted his head. That's when he begins to panic and tries to break free.

Jacket walks up to the tied up Cloaker, watching the struggle. Knowing he's out of ammo and could pick up his bat that he has thrown, but he spotted a hammer on a fold-up table. Grabbing it and inspecting the hammer, seeing it being a bit rusted but seeing it could still be in good use. Turned back around the Cloaker, seeing that know they both stare at each other, feeling the minutes go by.

Do it.

End the level.

Jacket took out his cassette recorder, the tape inside labeled 'Fun' in sharpie chicken scratch, pressing the button to play out a line with the rewind sound and static saying:

"ḁ̶̻̌s̸̰͚̐ď̶̺̖f̵̯̟̀͝~̶̜̈̑Do you know what time it is?-̶̜́̆a̵̦̥̕f̸̨̼͒͗e̴̛̦"

Then taking out the Cloaker with the hammer, beating his head into a bloody pulp, adding in more blood on his mask and clothing.
Then silence ran through the building, the only noise is the heavy breathing from the killer himself, regaining his strength as he heads to room 104.
Inside the room was a safe with a key card slot which he manages to find a key card on one of the mobsters. Inside were money, some gold bricks, and files that aren't useful to him.

GO TO CAR

I'm going fast as I can Richard

GO TO CAR

He packs it all up and exited the building, he picked up his bat on the way out, and into his Delorean.

Go

Hoping the gang won't mind if he brought some extra loot from his game. Thinking as he drives back to the safe house, though he did drive around the night to calm his nerves and to take in the starry night and see if any pizza shops were open late at night.

My own body doesn't feel like it's mine, the mask I wear is my own face and I'm afraid to take it off and reveal myself.

344507 / 247000 PTS
NEW WEAPON UNLOCKED

-----11:47-----

The drive helped ease his nerves as he parked his car, hidden from the trees and bushes.
Exiting out while grabbing his weapons and bag filled with money and gold. The weight helped remind him that it's a gift to the gang and they can help themselves to it for whatever they want, money isn't something he wants.

Entering the safe house garage he notices how dark and silent it is. Noticing that the gang must've gone to bed. He didn't feel tired plus he doesn't want to visit them again. Insomnia seems to help him or possibly torment him, staying up until the sun rises then sleeps at noon. Maybe he'll have sleep issues soon, hopefully, that issue wouldn't go into a heist, if they set him in one.

Through the garage and down the spiral staircase, thinking that he'll meet the dead silence of the basement and isolation, yet he's greeted by one of the member heisters, Sokol.
Who seems to be working out his arms with a dumbbell. Guessing he's using the opportunity to work out without Dragan around him.

Jacket stopped in his track once he and Sokol made eye contact, well human eye and rubber chicken mask eye contact. Jacket watching Sokol staring at him with eyes looking at the blood-drenched all over him. Possibly thinking of how it's a bitch to remove from cotton clothing, he's not wrong if he's thinking of that. The stare felt long until Jacket notice Sokol finally got out of his thoughts and moved his mouth, Jacket didn't hear anything.

But he sees something he wishes he didn't.

 

Chapter Text

pg 6

Each mask has their own voice and personality.
Dennis, the grey wolf, Snarls and growls angrily at anyone close. Demanding me to stab them with a sharp blade, any blade will do to satisfy his hunger.
Graham, the orange or white rabbit, telling me to be quick and quiet, listening out for any enemies nearby.
Phil, the green fish, speaking to me in French, while having other voices be badly translated into French. (I only wear him if I'm bored and see if I can guess correctly what the other is saying. A possibly difficult way of knowing French words)
Jake, a green cobra, hissing at me to wait and strike, to ready my weapon to throw. Seeing my enemies die from the killing throw.
Peter, white unicorn, speaking elegantly to me as if he's busy at a royal party while I kill thugs. Silencing gunshots from any guns I carry.
Tony, the yellow tiger, growling and roaring for me to be angry and punch everything in sight. Giving one killing blows, the strength given to me without my knowledge, yet it terrifies me that I might hurt someone accidentally. With or without Tony.

I can continue on with the list of names and animals,  27 animal masks. Each with their own names and personality and abilities from the previous owners. Yet I believe some didn't gain them until I found them. I can choose one of many and listen to what they have to say and how they can aid me through the levels.

Yet the one I chose was Richard, the first I met and received.  Yet he doesn't give me any abilities, only orders and demands, hearing him when theirs no one around me.
Telling me to finish them off, to hurry, to find, search, run, hide, dodge, escape. Judging sceneries, my way to kill, and the enemies who are cocky. Giving me questions that I can sometimes answer and sometimes don't. Telling me that I've done well.

'Sokol' was the only witness in the safe house to be up and doing something.
I must've terrified him from all the blood that stained my face and clothing. I wonder what he was thinking when we just stared for about a couple of minutes. He didn't give a smirk or a smug look or a judging one, to be honest, only a question I didn't hear.

I only heard gurgles of him trying his best to say the question. The static didn't help at all either and Richard was quiet to judge or say anything.

The hallucinations seem to be getting worse and I thought they were getting better.
First, it was the dead bodies twitching, laughing, and screaming.
Next was 'Sokol' having half of his head clean cut off, only leaving his bottom jaw and tongue moving around as if he's speaking normally without knowing the damage happened to him. Blood squirted out a bit yet it didn't leave any stains on the floor.

Sleep won't help, dreams no longer exist to me no matter how hard I try, and nightmares are the least of my worries.

 

The sun is rising.
Orange and pink, lovely colors of relaxation.
Morning is arriving. The gang will be up soon.
Luckily I managed to clean up my bloody clothing before any had questions, but I believe 'Sokol' might ask or leave me be.

Blood can be a bitch, but it's worth the time of staying up then do nothing at night.
I do have other jackets that are similar to this one,  just each has different colors and one is a camo zip hoodie,  yet this one I mostly wear is important to me. Replaced the one I normally wear in Miami and giving it to someone who needs comfort and warmth just like me.
A present from her that I'll cherish forever.

It's noon and most of the gangs are up and doing their usual things, some are possibly busy with something at home or simply sleeping in, which sounds nice.

 

'Sokol' seems to be looking into my room.
I can feel him staring while I'm writing this.
'Dragan' complained about one dumbbell not being put back in with the others in order.

I wonder if 'Dallas' is surprised by the little gift I placed on his desk. There might be some blood on the bag, but hopefully, not much for it to place some marks on his desk.

Maybe I should check the news to see if they report about the blood bath I did, maybe they didn't and ignore it, but I doubt their stupid than Miami police and reporters. Hopefully, they don't have a killer detective that wants attention and fame.

I wonder if they have forgotten the 'Mask Maniac Killer' and the 'Miami Mutilator'. Did they finish the 'Midnight Animal' movie? I heard that the actor playing the killer, or 'me' basically, was killed on set, I wonder how he died.
I bet that movie is just another slasher film, trying to use a real-life incident and bending the story into how they think it truly goes. I bet they just went what the report, news, and police said what happened at the scenes I've made.

I don't know if it will be worth it to find the movie and watch it.

 

---------------------------------------------------

Pg 7

"Where did you go last night?" - Wolf

I went for a night drive

"You didn't get a mail from the cult-group?" - Wolf

No mail, no messages

"Did you sleep?" - Wolf

Yes, I'm fine Wolf
Why do you worry so much about me? You don't know much about me

"It doesn't matter if I don't know much about you, we can still be friends and we can learn about each other on the way!" - Wolf

"See? Sorry for the terrible drawing." - Wolf

It's fine, it's cute

"Thanks." - Wolf

 

'Wolf' left, being called by 'Houston' from the top of the spiral staircase, guessing he still doesn't like me and doesn't want to be near me. They might be planning for another heist or possibly question the bloody bag, hopefully, I didn't leave any blood tracks.
The drawing is very cute.

I can still feel 'Sokol' staring in my room, even when 'Wolf' was with me. I would go ask him why, but I think I'll make it awkward and 'Dragan' would be the only witness seeing two heisters trying to have a small conversation, but only started tense-awkward silence.

Maybe I should work on some cassette tapes or play a game on my NES, maybe ask 'Sokol' to play along. I might have a hockey game somewhere or baseball or other sport games.

I forgot to clean my weapons, the only evidence, but I don't think the others care and think it was leftover blood from the bank heist. The hammer does need a bit of a clean and fixer up, but it can still be used for killing and possibly be used for fixing shit or tools.

'Houston' is back and calling out for me, maybe I'm in need for the heist their planning or possibly for an explanation of the random duffel bag of goodies.
Gotta make sure to hide this if 'Sokol' decides to come in here and investigate. 

Chapter Text

Meeting Room

"So you don't know where Jacket went last night or had any acknowledgment that he left?"

"No, our rooms aren't that close Dallas."

"Alright then, since your up here, you have babysitting duties."

"What! What about Bonnie? Or Dragan? Or basically anyone else other than me?"

"Bonnie is out on a heist with Sangres, Wick, and Bodhi. Dragan is out for some fresh air and possibly some runs and most of the gang are busy with personal stuff, which leaves you, Sokol, Houston, Jacket, Clover, Jiro, Jimmy, Chains, & Rust."

"Ah, Wait, what about you?"

"I have a dentist appointment soon."

"I thought you hate the dentist?"

"I do, but I just need a check-up, some teeth are being achy and stuff," Dallas said as he rubbed his jaw, feeling some of his teeth aching a bit just by talking or basically having his tongue touch them. Hoping that the appointment will just be quick and not have any drills go into his mouth, good thing wolf isn't into dental stuff.

"Who am I babysitting?" Wolf said, wondering which of the young heisters they have that needs to be watched. Joy is fine, she plays video games or hacks something in her van, Clover basically sits in front of million screens of CCTV footage from the safe house cameras, Sokol practice hockey or works out, and Sydney usually doodles and draws at her station. Maybe Houston? Possibly not, he'll just work on the van and maybe give the escape van a new color or something. Jacket? I doubt it, hell we don't even know how old he is and he always wears his chicken mask so it's hard to tell plus he'll stay in his room and work on some tapes. Staring at Dallas waiting for a response as he finally stopped rubbing his jaw.

"Just Houston and Jacket, just make sure they stay in one room. I need Houston to try and be comfortable around him or we're gonna have some issues on heist if I put them in a group together..."

"Wouldn't Hous be mad about this?"

"He would, but he needs to suck it up and play nice. Sure Jackets a mystery, but he hasn't done anything that causes us to be dead or captured."

"Yeah, also, did you go on like a quick small heist Dallas?" Wolf asked, seeing an opened duffle bag on Dallas desk, couple wads of money and gold bars showing inside, some on the desk. Noticing a bit of bloodstain on the bag. 'Maybe he had to use the bag to beat some swat.' Wolf thought.

"No. That bag was there this morning, Clover mentioned me about it before I saw it myself and since Jacket was the one that left with a duffle bags, we were hoping that you would know where he went to get all that loot or basically know what his heist was, bust since you don't know then we have no leads or anything to know where he went last night."

"Why not ask Jacket then? Or maybe, it was an angel that decided to join in and-"

"Wolf. Off-topic and no."

"Sorry, why not just ask Jacket then?"

"Sometimes asking the culprit won't go so smoothly as you think Wolf, speaking of which."

Once Dallas finished his sentence, Houston and Jacket entered the meeting room. Houston with his hands in his pockets looking a bit unhappy as he heads to the long oak wood table that still holds dozen of papers and files. Jacket followed suit, thinking it might be another heist just the four of them. There is a short dark oak table in the corner, but it's mostly used for blueprints of banks or to play some game of cards if you're bored. Jacket still wearing his usual chicken mask despite all the other heisters not wearing theirs in the safe house. Wolf watches them both, seeing Houston just eyeing some of the papers and moving some while Jacket simply stares straight ahead and sometimes looking at the papers, usually the ones Houston touches and moves around.

"Alright, I got Wolf and Jacket up here, need anyone else?"

"Nope. That's all I need." Dallas then Walks by the table and almost out the meeting room until Houston asked him a question, confused, thinking he missed someone or something his brother needs.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Dentist appointment."

"Don't you hate the den-" Dallas cuts him off while waving goodbye to his little brother and the others that are in the room.
"I'll be back Houston, be good, same goes for you Wolf and I need to have a chat with you Jacket about the loot bag on my desk."
After that he left, seen on the CCTV cameras shows Dallas having a walk to his car and driving out the somewhat empty parking lot.

"All righty then..." confused how his brother just asked him to get two heisters into the meeting room and just left saying he has a dentist appointment, he hates the dentists! He usually fights when he needs a check-up on his teeth! I'm guessing he finally mans up to something he hates.
He turns around to face Wolf, hoping Dallas told him what and why he wanted him and Jacket up here.

"Wolf, did Dallas tell you why he wanted you and the Chicken in here?"

Wolf's eyes were on Houston for a minute until his eyes began to wander at the walls or anything else besides the Ghost Fugitive in the room, though sometimes on Jacket since he's wearing his usual chicken mask.

"Well, um, he did tell me about his appointment before you both came in here, and uh told me the reason why is that he wants us to um....clean up the table! Yeah, basically organize the papers and files and everything!"

Wolf grins, hoping this worked and Houston wouldn't ask any more questions. Hopefully, this first step he created would help Houston get used to Jacket and hopefully be comfortable around him despite the mystery he has. Houston continues to stare at Wolf, but sighs and groans in annoyance.

"Seriously? That's why? Just clean up a mess that he made? Fucking hell..."

Wolf nods, feeling relaxed as his shoulders sagged, not realizing how tense his shoulders got.
"Yup! Just cleaning up the table!"
He goes over to the opposite side of the table across from Houston and Jacket, helping them start the cleanup. He could see Clover through the glass, seeing that she was looking over her shoulder. Possibly to see if Dallas's plan would work or not and make sure to come in if a fight starts between the clown and chicken. Hoping they wouldn't and simply get along.

"This is gonna take all day..."
Houston groans as he started trying to organize the papers. Jacket helps by getting the folders and placing the correct papers inside, a bit confused about what's happening yet accepts it to show he's reliable.

-----3:08-----

"I'm going to kill my own brother and you can't stop me, Wolf..."

They finally finished the chore that Dallas gave them, all folders holding the correct paperwork while separate paperwork in neat stacks and ready to be stapled together so they wouldn't be in another pile mess again. Wolf was sitting in one of the chairs by the short table, looking relaxed when they finished.

"I'm still gonna stop you Hous... same with Chains and the others..."

During their clean up, Clover called out saying that the group that was out heisting came back with loot and supplies, Bonnie with bruises and small scratches dealing with bulldozers, Sangres having his own bruises from trying to outrun cloakers, Wick and Bodhi in a mess since they were the runs trying to get the loot in the van, luckily no fatal injuries on them. Houston walked over to where Wolf is and sat down in one of the comfy chairs, hands-on his heads as he groans and mumbles. Jacket was still at the long table, but on his knees as his head rests on the clean table surface. Some might mistake him for sleeping or just dead from the positions he's in. He got bored of the cleanup, but he helped Houston with some paper issues at least. He just wants to go back into his room either sleep, mess with some tapes or just write some more stuff in his notebook, luckily he had some more things to write down today.

"Are you still alive over there Chicken?"

"He has a name Hous..."

"What kind of name like Jacket a parent would give?"

"Nickname Hous, like the names we use."

"Still."

Jacket listens to their small dialogue about the name he's used to and kept as he takes out his Walkman recorder to answer Houston. Hearing the static and rewind coming out of the recorder as he quickly cuts and creates a sentence.

" ḁ̶̱̅s̶͉̯̭͈̆ I'm feeling -̸̡̧̱͖̎̈́͘~̸͈̀̈́̍͘~̸͔̙̆~̶̡̬̯̄~̵̙̣͓̝́̿̐-̷̦͍͖̈́̂̕ great ti -̸̙̳̌ "

"That's nice to hear.....Hey Jacket? do you mind smacking my brother in the head or tie him up when he's done having a chat with you?"

" ǎ̸͓͝h̴͑͗͜~̶̱͂ͅd̶̩̲͠-̴̡͖̙̚ Negative -̸̩͐~̷̣̓͗Ḯ̵̩ͅ~̴̻̽ͅ "

"C'mon man, it's just a simple tie up and simply smacking him in the face for a bit for forcing us to do his shit."

Jacket lifted up his head and shook his head then put his head back down, tired.

--------------------------------------------------

"Mind telling me where you went last night Jacket?"

Dallas asked, he came back home a couple of minutes later after the finished cleanup. When he came in he immediately heads into the meeting room and told Houston and Wolf to stay while he has his chat with Jacket. It seemed like something happened to him while he went to the dentist. He simply leaned on his desk while staring at Jacket, while Wolf and Houston still sitting by the short table in the corner. Jacket couldn't form the sentences he wanted with his recorder, so he started using sign language, luckily Wolf knows ASL.

He started signing while Wolf look to see what he was saying and translating to both Dallas and Houston.

'I went out for a small heist, I thought it would be fine if I could do some solo heisting.'

"He went out for a small solo heist, Dallas."

"Alright, if it was a small solo heist make sure to give us a head's up so we know just in case you need back up."

Jacket nods relieved that he didn't make Dallas upset for something small. Dallas gets up from leaning on his desk.

"Just make sure theirs no blood on the bags alright?"

Jacket nods again.

"Alright, Wolf mind getting Chains? Got a heist we need to do and a new contractor I need to inform. You can go Jacket, thanks for a bonus from your solo heisting."

Jacket leaves the room, Wolf walks with him since he's getting Chains. Both had a chat in silent language, sometimes Jacket using his recorder to answer something easy. Both went separate when Jacket goes down the spiral stairs while Wolf went into the weapons room or Chains station room to tell him that he's needed in the meeting room.

A Diamond heist from the Dentist. The Dentist who knows where Hoxton is being held and transferred.

Jacket enters his room, hoping Sokol hasn't entered or basically anyone hasn't entered his room without his permission.
His notebook is still in it's hiding place, hasn't moved.

 

Chapter Text

pg 7

Yesterday was fine, a bit weird, but still fine.
Called into the meeting room, followed 'Houston' there, 'Dallas' had to go to a dentist appointment and we had to clean up the table and organize papers.

Theirs a lot of files about some of the banks, locations, prison transfer schedules, and list of prisoner names. There were possibly more other things written down, but I mostly looked at the important ones that have something to do with the big breakout plan.

I also learned how to know when 'Wolf' is lying and making things up.
I'm guessing 'Dallas' must've made a secret plan thing with Wolf or something. I don't know what it is, but I think it's just us doing chores for once.

Hopefully helping 'Houston' made him less angry or hate towards me. Even if he did question my name, it was still nice when he checked on me. I must've looked like I was dead or I fell asleep in a terrible position.

The four aren't here at the moment, 'Dallas', 'Chains', 'Wolf', & 'Houston' left to go to a museum. I don't know what the heist is, but it has something to do with a museum. Dallas looked like he was being forced when he came back, plus from the short chat we had about the bloody loot on his desk.

We could do a small heist here while the others are away, we just need to contact Bain about it so he can keep an eye on us.

I also remember seeing some papers about mental illness, well a list of mental illnesses. I didn't get to see any since 'Houston' took it and put it in a folder.

Maybe I should ask Aldstone if we can have pizza. I don't think we have any ingredients for anything. 'Clover' did ask me if I can write down some stuff we need in the kitchen.

I̷̯̝̭̮͐ ̴̡͖͚̌w̸̨̺̞̤̅i̸̲̻͗͠s̸̢̮̝̣͂h̶̢͖̳́̐̅̚ ̴̬̓̋̏ŝ̵͇̃͋h̴̭̦̒̆̚ͅę̴̭͇͚͊ ̸̩̪̋̊͂̅w̷̥͍͈̑̂͌a̶͙͕͉̲͐̿͠ş̷̈́͌ ̶̺̏̋h̷̯̱̼̃̍̾e̸̫͖̖̍͐r̴̙̯͍̀ě̴̼͖̮͓̂̕.̵͚̬͔̟̔.̶̠̉.̷̫̲̙̿̈́͜͠.̷͔̗̜̓̑

--------------------------------------------------

Jacket flips to the next page, placing the pencil inside the notebook so the next time he needs to write down anything new, he'll start on the blank page.
He wasn't expecting the blank 8th page to have a weird question on it, luckily the person left their name, the name Jacket wasn't hoping for him to find his notebook.

"What are you writing down? I do not understand, it is all chicken scratch. Why not talk like human with Sokol, да?" - Sokol

Jacket relaxes a little, but still tense. Now knowing that Sokol entered his room and went through his stuff without permission, even had the audacity to find his notebook and looked through it.

He knows his terrible his handwriting is, it's been a while for him, possibly too long. Jacket mostly watch TV or movies, play games, eat pizza, and finish levels given to him, their wasn't any reason for him to write anything, not even write any letters. Not even the ones he wants to so badly, but they'll never receive. He passed high school and halfway through college until he joined the army to be sent to a secret group called the Ghost Wolves, where he met him and the others he wished were still around. His varsity jacket shows he passed high school, joining the baseball team called Miami Beasts, now that he thought about it, it explains the swiftness from him swinging his favorite melee weapons, especially his baseball bat. Jacket remembers people with static faces and skin saying how he's ambidextrous, explaining to him that he can use both hands equally and none are primary to him. How easy it is to swing anything in his hands either a weapon or his own fists.

Maybe he should teach Sokol a lesson on entering his room without his permission. Maybe he shouldn't, it would cause issues and maybe make things even worse for others to trust him. Maybe he should answer Sokol's question in his notebook and find another hiding spot. He remembers hearing that the rooms are going to be upgraded, mostly the upstairs rooms the following down. So he might get a new couch or not, but still, need a new hiding place.

Now he questions how Wolf reads his writing. Wolf's handwriting is also neat as well, he thought that maybe he should just use sign language with Wolf or use his recorder to talk to him. Seems easier than having Wolf struggling on figuring out what letter or number he just wrote down.

Jacket closed his notebook and placed it in a new hiding spot. Inside one of the boxes that hold books he thought are interesting, some are even comic books, and theirs a cookbook inside as well. Before putting it away, he replied to the question, hoping Sokol could read his handwriting as he tried to make it neat for it to be readable, but right now he has a chore to do and see what they need to restock in the kitchen. As he exits his room, he noticed that Sokol isn't playing or practicing his favorite sport, he sees Dragan though, always working out without a break for some reason. Still wondering if people can die from working out too much, thinking about what they could pull or burst which organs inside their bodies. Jacket shook his head to focus on where he's going and why Dragan must've noticed his presence and looked up. He was doing push up's, I don't know how many he did, he's just doing some push-ups in a brown suit.

"Ah, you're awake Jacket. You did not come out to watch me work out, did you?"

Jacket shook his head and answered.

"G̷̡͙̬͋͗É̴̛̠͎̎ͅṪ̷̛͙͛e̸̯͙͓͗̋͘a̴̠͜͝Negative~̸̲̈́̊-̸̤̖̉̎~̸̪̓͘Falconf̷͙̾̕ä̶͔́̍e̴̜̺̎̓F̸̹͉̎̓"

"Hm? Falcon? Do you mean Sokol? He's not here at the moment, he's in the kitchen grabbing a drink for himself and hopefully, he gets one for me too. It's damn hot down here."

Jacket nods, knowing the heat down hear, but living in Miami and through the heats, it goes through makes him used to it and possibly be immune to it or not. Jacket now knows where Sokol is at the moment, doesn't know if its a good thing or a bad thing that he's in the kitchen, and that his chore needs him to be at the kitchen to create the list. Do it now or have an angry gang complaining about how low we have in the fridge.

Jacket walks up the stairs to the main floor, seeing Jiro, Bonnie, & Jimmy playing a gambling game. From what he can tell, it's either between Jiro or Bonnie that's having the winning card. Jimmy just wants some fun and try to cause some chaos on the gambling table. Jacket goes up another set of stairs that leads to the kitchen top floor. Seeing Sokol drinking a water bottle and watching out the window.

Ignore and get it over with

Jacket almost forgot he's still wearing his face. Well Richard, but the masks are his face to him, just came in different forms and voices. He wonders if he should get Carl and see if he has something for him. Putting Carl on that one time made him learn new things he didn't even know, know more about the 50 blessings, and the reason why their recruiting either ex-military or random patriots that want the Russians out of Miami or America. Luckily that chaos was over.

Jacket saw a note pad on the counter, good, he forgot to bring paper, but I think either Clover or Aldstone left it there just in case. Jacket walked by Sokol and head to the counter, picking up the notepad and a nearby pen that had some ink left. He heads to the fridge and opens it to see what they need.

Milk, water, soda, beer-that-everyone-is-okay-with, bread, possibly some meat for any future dinners Dragan wants to make or anyone else, vegetables-y'know.

Jacket continues writing, not knowing a Russian heister walking up to him and looking over his shoulder to see what he was writing.

"So the Chicken is doing kitchen chore now?"

Jacket didn't jump from the question, but just nod and simply continue writing and finishing up.

"You are still doing куриная царапина. You are already chicken enough."

Jacket ignored him and close up the notepad, had everything down that they need, and give it to Clover. To show proof he did the chore and hope she doesn't make fun of his writing too. Jacket walked away from Sokol and out of the kitchen to head into the meeting room since Clover station is inside the room. He walked into the security room to see Clover looking through the cameras and sometimes through her phone when nothing is happening, which is most.

"fh̵̡̀u̵͙͌à̴͚͖~̴̨̗̐̈́-̷̧̗̓Un trèfle~̴̭̀̎a̵͇͛̒h̸͖͌͂f̴͇͝"

Clover looks up to see Jacket, I think he almost scared her. She gave him a small smile when she noticed it was just Jacket and his recorder calling out.

"Ey Jacket, did ya check the kitchen?"

He nodded and hand her the note pad, watching as she took it and open it up. Seeing her skimming through the list and humming on some of the ingredients.

"Standard stuff, standard ingredients. Alright, thanks for the list Jack. I'll make sure to give it to Aldstone and we'll go to the grocery store to restock the fridge. Can't believe we already focking low on food."

Animals

Says the rooster...

Knowing that he finished the chore and no longer needed, he turns around to exit the room. Waving Clover a goodbye as he heads back down to his room. Ignoring Sokols stare, possibly wanting to know if Jacket saw the question he wrote down. Jacket made it back to his room, felt himself shake for the first time, possibly from the coldness from the fridge or a late feeling when Sokol got to close to his personal bubble. A level would be perfect right now or something, maybe tomorrow, can't believe he wants a level to escape what just happened.

--------------------------------------------------

pg 8

"What are you writing down? I do not understand, it is all chicken scratch. Why not talk like human with Sokol, да?" - Sokol

 

No.

 

Chapter Text

pg 8

The four came back home, 'Wolf' is in my room sleeping. I would carry him to my other room at the connected apartment, but I think he already got comfortable on the red couch, it's small, but he seems to be sleeping well.

He told me what happened at the museum, they were stealing a diamond. It's like the cartoons, a robber trying to steal a diamond, has to go through puzzles or lasers and guards, get caught and goes to jail. Luckily they manage to get the diamond and pass the puzzle that the museum had. Why do museums always have puzzles? What would of happen if an employe or a guard messed up the puzzle and caused destruction?

'Wolf' told me that tear gas came out of the walls when 'Dallas' misstepped on the pressure plates walking back.

They had to escape via helicopter or Bile. Bile helps us by either being our escaped vehicle or dropping off equipment we need, using a helicopter. We also have Twitch, who drives the escape van, sometimes sees him talking to 'Houston' or fixing up the van with him.

Theirs a lot more people who either help or assist the gang.

'Wolf' told me they had to stop at a hotel to rest from the heist, reason why they weren't back yesterday. Now he's back in the basement sleeping on the red couch.

I've been told by Aldtone that the couch will be removed and replace. I'm guessing I'm gonna get one of the living room couches since we're going to get bigger ones that can fit 19 or fewer people. I don't mind, as long it's a comfy couch for me to sleep on or something.

--------------------------------------------------

Jacket looks back to see Wolf still sleeping and curled up, using his coat as a blanket and borrowing one of the other varsity jackets Jacket had in one of the boxes as a pillow.

The Wolf sleeps peacefully in another wolves den

Dennis wouldn't mind a guest in here, he needs sleep after what he and the others went through Richard.

Jacket turns back around and looking at his notebook, thinking what to write down next or just doodle. The phone in his pocket decided to vibrate.

New message, new level

That or a miss call or text possibly...

Jacket took out his phone and open it up, seeing a new message from a random number. Clicking it to see that he has babysitting duties from a random person.

Hi, this is 'Josh', been told to contact you to see if you can babysit my kids today

Hi, this is 'Josh', been told to contact you to see if you can babysit my kids today.
I have a very important meeting coming up.
I left a list at the door and a spare key underneath the rug.
Please do teach them a lesson if they don't cooperate and be discrete when taking their toys away, they get very upset and do tantrums.
Here's the address:
'3165 Orville Canny street'

Jacket looked back, hearing movement, seeing Wolf relaxed and a bit uncurled even though how small the red couch is. Still sleeping, Jacket relaxed and turns back to his phone while writing down the address and time. Jacket put away his phone and closed up his notebook. Turning back around to check to see if Wolf is still sleeping as he gets up. Putting the notebook in its new hiding spot, since Wolf is in here sleeping Sokol won't come in here and messing with his stuff.

Who should I bring?
Carl? Tony? Graham? Maybe Peter, Nah he silences guns. Graham makes me go faster, but I don't feel like rushing on this one. I would put on Carl for anything new he has to say, but I don't think Wolf would be happy if I took one of his drills.

Tony it is then, I feel like punching today. Sorry, Richard.

Walking up to his workbench and takedown Tony who was hanged up on the wall above the workbench. Already feeling his anger through the latex, ready to punch the shit out of anyone that gets in our way.

Fists only, no melee weapons or guns allowed.

Jacket wonders where all the animal masks come from, yes they are sent by the 50 blessings, but how did they get them? Halloween store perhaps? Most of their masks are made with the same material. Jacket put Tony in his varsity so the others won't question it, turning around and cautiously walk over to Wolf and crouched down.

The Wolf sleeps well on the terrible couch...

Yeah...

Jacket pet Wolf's head and got up to leave, exiting his room seeing Sokol practicing with the tiny goal he has and Dragan leaning on one of the pillars watching. Up the stairs and out to the parking lot. The others don't need to get involved, their already busy with their own stuff they need to deal with. Hopefully, Dallas isn't awake right now for Clover to inform him that I'm leaving again without anyone knowing.

Things are gonna get bloody today, sorry Aldstone.

--------------------------------------------------

"Psst, little Wolfie. C'mon wake up for Sokol, I have question."

Sokol was by the red couch that had a sleeping Wolf that slept nicely, now he's hovering above the Wolf and shaking his shoulder moving him side to side, gently.

"Little Wolf cannot be comfortable on this tiny furniture, come I take you to spare room."

Sokol heard Wolf grunt and curled up even more. Sokol sighed as he looked around, seeing the same mess as every day when he just looks from the entrance of Jackets room.

"How many cassette tapes does one need?"

"Enough to make a full sentence for us to understand..."

Sokol turned around seeing Wolf in the middle of a yawn, his eyes opening a bit as he squints through the lights, even the skull neon light.

"Ah, good, you are awake, come I take you somewhere better to sleep then here my friend."

"Nah I'm good...I think Jacket doesn't mind a sleepover..."

Wolf looks around to find the chicken but realizes he isn't here and that Sokol must've come in here without permission.

"You know you're not supposed to be in here Sokol if Jacket isn't here.."

"I know, Sokol knows, but I have a question of where he is. Since he isn't here, maybe you know where our chicken has gone."

"To be honest I don't know either..."

Looking around to see if Jacket left any clues, but found none yet noticing that one of the masks he had hanged up is missing. Wolf has an idea but needed to wait for Sokol to leave, knowing he might break a little trust as long he perfects how Jacket hides his notebook.

"He usually doesn't tell us but he might be on a small solo heist somewhere..."

"Solo heisting? I did not know that was allowed, little suspicious."

Wolf shook his head and sit up to stretch, hearing some pops. Feeling a bit sweaty, even if it fall season we can still be hot and sweaty. Turns his head to face Sokol.

"Don't worry about it, he isn't doing anything suspicious, he did bring a bag of loot and placed in Dallas desk to show what he found during his first solo since we had him. He just had to make sure to tell one of us where he's going so we can be there as backup and stuff-"

Wolf Yawns as he finished.

"Alright, Sokol believes. I will leave the room then, do not tell the chicken that Sokol was here, да?"

"Yeah yeah."

Wolf watches as Sokol leaves to his little hockey rink, as Wolf gets up and walks towards the boxes, searching through them and making sure not to mess with anything that makes him get caught.

'Varsity jackets, clothes, more melee weapons, more masks, tapes, movies, even more masks, comic books, cookbook-aha! Notebook!'

Wolf opened the notebook from behind, going through the blank pages. Finding the notebook and going through all the boxes is terrible friendship trust, but going through the first page and reading through a notebook journal is even worse, so it's best to start from the back until finding the today's recent writing page.  Finding the page that was numbered 8 and skimming through everything to spare himself the knowledge of what's behind Jacket, he could read most of the words but the ones that are possibly scribbled over are harder. Finally seeing something that he was looking for and unexpected.

'3615 Orville Canny Street, 9:46 PM'
Babysitting.

'Babysitting? Did Jacket get like a small job to watch someone kid? No no that can't be right....'
Wolf thought, but suddenly he remembered something.
'50 blessings.... this must be one of the addresses that they sent to Jacket to deal with something, but seriously? Babysitting? I need to remember this address.'

Wolf kept looking at the address, forcing his brain to remember it as he closed the notebook and carefully tried to mimic how Jacket would put his notebook away. Closing up the box and the others he opened up as well. Now wondering if tomorrow's news will be about something interesting or boring, hopefully, interesting and new. Since now the payday gang is growing in numbers and robbing even more and escaping nicely, the cops will have more things to worry about and more to be afraid of. Especially one that goes out at night leaving no traces of what comes next at the darkest night.

 

 

Chapter Text

-----Orville Canny-----
Oct 5th, 10:08PM

" Plea-Please..! Блядь.... wa-wait! "

The mobster laying on the floor, blood leaking from his nose and mouth as he was missing a couple of teeth. The mobster panics as he tries to crawl away from his attacker, trying to see if he can reason with it to spare him.

" I-I can tell you where the vault is! Just-Just please! I-I-I can tell you anything just spare me please! "

Pathetic. Weak. Kill him! Get it over worth!

The tiger snarled and growled, tired and hungry as the beast watches its prey cowering in fear, begging for mercy that will never come. Each time the mobster beg the beast comes closer until it came close enough, the beat sitting on the mobster stomach and raised both of his fists together, ready.

" no-NO NO NO! WAI-WAIT PLEA- "

No more please and beg Came from the mobster anymore as the only sound was a blood splatter hitting the floor, while the skull, flesh, meat, and brain became a piling mush as the beast hands were covered in blood with bits of brain sticking to the bandages. The beast panted as it stands up, looking down at his feast he destroyed, tilting his head as the body twitched.

The beast walked away, searching for more prey to feast on. As the beast walked up the stairs, the tiger speaks again, expecting more Snarls and growls but only get calmness and concentration from the angered tiger named Tony.

It's strange, isn't it? How they manage to easily find and trace your location without anything to trace. Who is this and why are they personating the 50 blessings?

The beast stops in its track after hearing the tigers' questions. It is true, how did they manage to track me when I didn't have any phones to track down? How did they know I'm in Washington? How did they know about the bank heist...?

Many many questions, yet I don't have the answers nor should be the one talking to you like this. Maybe when you sleep, they might be able to give you better fucking hints then more questions to add on. Hurts my fucking head...

The beast listens to the tiger as the predator returns back to snarling and growling. The beast itself return back and continued up the stairs to the second floor, already hearing nearby chatter and footsteps that are on a loop of whoever is patrolling. The beast was ready, wearing the tiger gave him gruesome amounts of energy, as if he's an entirely new person. Wearing another one faces and gaining their abilities. The tiger snarled as he heard nearby prey, the beast simply stomps and prepares himself to begin the blood bath feast.

——————————————————————————

The cops have arrived, but they were too late.
They were called on when a nearby civilian heard multiple gunshots and screams, yet they only send in normal cops instead of swats.
Entering the building, the first floor was clean, except for the one lone dead body of a mobster that had his head caved in and beaten.
Yet the second floor wasn't spared, the floors and walls splattered with blood, each room contained multiple dead bodies, each died in the same way. Limbs ripped apart from their torso, heads bashed in, necks snapped, and throats ripped open.

Leaving the cops shitting their pants after going through the room to room, finding more blood and bodies. Yet not knowing that the one responsible was simply having a drive around town to clear off his adrenaline rush and mind. Still having those questions in his mind, hopefully, he'll gain the answers he needed.

How did they track me?

How did they know I'll be in Washington?

How did they know about the bank heist to plant that mail?

Is it truly them? Or someone pretending to be them..

He grips the wheel, thinking more in more, but he doesn't need to add in any more questions. Right now he needs to relax and head back to clean up. Hoping that Sokol isn't awake again. Driving by stores that are open with their neon open signs, driving by quiet neighborhoods, simple parks, until I felt relaxed enough to head back to the safe house. The home of the payday gang.

Wolf is being curious, Sokol might know what I've been doing or has a guest of what, Dallas simply requests me to inform him when I go out to do these little 'heists'. The others, I don't know, don't know if Houston still hates me or has softened up. Dragan? Well, possibly will complain about the somewhat 'chubbiness' I have or anyone if they come up to him. Bonnie would just ask if I want to play any gambling games with her. Jimmy sometimes looks like he's somewhere else than here or just looks like he stopped breathing and randomly still be alive somehow. Rust is just a big grumpy cat who loves his bike. Joy is usually in her van playing games or doing a hack to possibly get a game or something. Jiro doesn't seem the type of guy to have a stable conversation with. Sangres? Well, he may tell me some stories of what he's done before joining the gang and possibly give me Spanish lessons. Clover is busy watching cameras, well busy watching us really... Sydney? No, not in the mood for art or crazy talk to be honest.

I kept driving as I felt the blood on my hands starting to dry up, feeling the dried blood crackling as I grip the wheel. The skies are covered by black clouds, the moon shining through them. I think it's time to go back...

What time is it?

-----12:09PM-----

 

I've done the usual, park my car and pass the gate. Holding Tony while looking at my fists, seeing them shake a little, either I hit too hard or Low blood sugar. Oh well, at least everyone isn't awake at this time, seeing how dark the safe house is right now as I entered the basement and into my room, tossing Tony on the couch. Noticing that I now have a new couch, it seemed to be a black leather one, similar to the ones we have for the living room couches.

I wonder, where do they put the red one? Maybe in the garbage, luckily I put the notebook in the boxes... I took off my bloodied jacket and toss it on the couch as well as I sit down and relax... lifting my hand as I look and inspect the dried up blood on my hand and bandages. I think I should go clean up before midnight...

My body isn't tired though.... this may be an issue, after what Tony said... those questions still bother me...even after hearing it coming out of a tiger that's usually in a pissy mood and just Snarls at me... I never bought a personal phone... nor a laptop at that matter since it's 2014... then how... how the fuck did they find me? How did they know? How did they know about everything? These addresses... I feel like their just all made up and not even real... I feel like I should bring the others...yet I feel like they'll be disgusted and be disapproving of what I do... sure they do heist's that all have the same goal like robbing, though I feel like some heists are a bit different than the rests... I don't know... robbing isn't my thing, though bein something like robin hood seems fine with me.

Yet I feel like this was the last level I'll be doing solo...

I should really clean up, good thing the blood dried up..... the couch is comfortable though...fuck...