XIV

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Vincent Bryant.

I was named after my father. He was named after my grandfather. They were all honorable men, but as for me, well, I didn't turn out the exact way they did. Now that I look back to it, I could've made some better choices.

You may say, "Oh, he's got something in his past." or "He's doing it for revenge."

No, I do it cause I want to. The pay is good, and I'm good at it.

2021...

I lit a cigarette in my mouth and started tailing my target. I grabbed the handle of my pistol from my holster strapped around my thigh. I rushed them and dragged them into the alley.

Ashlynn Corbett. I slammed the teen into the wall and she whimpered.

"Let me go!" She demanded in German, I held her still. She started crying, "Who are you? What do you want?"

I just smirked as I put the gun under her chin and pulled the trigger. Her body dropped as I stepped back. I looked around the corner as I heard a speeding truck approaching. Perfect.

I stepped back into the shadows, concentrating on the girl's body. I got the link and got her up. I made her walk into the street and cut off the link once she was hit by the truck. The truck screeched to a halt and I smirked, taking my cigarette out of my mouth, blowing out the smoke as I headed back to get my pay.

After picking up the money at the drop off point, I went back to my apartment and opened the door, pushing mail to the side on the floor.

I closed the door, locking it. I leaned down and picked up the envelope with a bulge in it. I went to my kitchen as I started opening it. I took out a letter as I got a beer from the fridge. I closed the fridge with my hip. I sat down on the couch as I took a drink and unfolded the note.

Vincent,

If you're reading this, I'm either captured, or dead. I don't mean to alarm you, though you don't seem to care about these things. But I want you to know, you are more than what you think.

I was about to stop reading, but then I saw something.

You're a legacy, Vincent, to a group called the Men of Letters, you will be the last one of our kind, and if you choose to agree, you will help many people, hopefully erasing the sins of your current life. You may be able to keep killing, but for a better purpose. There are things out there, monsters, real ones, that kill innocent people and may be the cause of my current misfortune.

If you agree upon taking this offer, this is a secret location:

It had a pair of coordinates and I looked to the bulged envelope. I grabbed it and poured the contents into my hand. A thick key with a star on the head dropped into my hand. I took a drink as I examined the key. I let the bottle hang from my hand.

The coordinates were near an empty lot and abandoned factory. Not exactly the place I thought a thing called the Men of Letters would be in. I got up, chugging the beer as I walked into my room.

I fell face first onto my bed and breathed heavily. I reached over to my contact case and took my contacts out, putting them into the case and closing it. I rested my eyes and turned to my back. I opened my eyes and looked to the letter. It wouldn't hurt to check it out, unless it was a trap. I thought, then got up. No one had a chance against me.

I got up and packed a duffel bag with my small amount of belongings that consisted of a tooth brush, tooth paste, a brush, my contacts, a switch blade and my pistols, which were strapped to my thighs. I zipped the bag closed and kept the key in my pocket and the letter in my hand as I left the apartment. I got into my grey Mercedes Benz Coupe and started driving.

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