You were a prodigal assassin. The best of the best. The body count of criminals were indescribable. Even in off duty, you kill scumbags. But your life came to an end. Plus instead of going to Heaven, you got drag down to Hell. Ain't that a bitch?
PS...
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You simply sat on stool chair of an empty bar sipping on a pilsner glass of beer. Perhaps you can take some of the brewery back for the hotel. Recalling the kill counts of the past when you were alive. Hearing their screams of the dead are soothing to calm the nerves. You wondered how Charlie and the others are doing hoping they're not in danger.
Hearing that made you go full alert but you remained in your composure as the one behind the tuning is sitting right next to you.
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???: "If it isn't Hell's Killer himself...in the flesh."
(Y/N): "And you are?"
???: "I guess you can say that I'm your biggest fan. Speaking of which, can I get your autograph?"
He pulls out a photo of you.
(Y/N): "Bounty Hunter?"
This...Sinner pours himself a glass of beer, drinking it.
???: "Who me? Not really. Like you, everyone thinks they can defeat me, but no one's escape me yet."
(Y/N): "Mhm."
???: "I take it you were reminiscing the past? Life flashing before your eyes?"
(Y/N): "Yep."
???: "Most people go through when they're recalling a favorite memory...even on their last days."
