• I don't remember much. I don't remember how my wife died. I don't remember how I got to this position in life. I don't remember how many I've killed to get here. What I do know, what I know was absolutely meant to happen, is that the man I strove so hard to clear from my life, was now dead. I killed him.

    "No!", cried the woman, followed by a loud crack piercing the sound barrier. I heard the shell hit the floor. I couldn't help, I was struggling to stay alive. I was injured. They beat me, they took every bit of life from me they could. I lay there in the corner of the room as a face came into clear view.

    "Now you know. Now you know what happens when you don't pay your debts. Now you know what happens when you screw me over.", the words were followed by a fist in the jaw.

    The man who had just taken every bit of importance in my life, was my own best friend. His name was Jonas, and he is currently occupying the space at my feet. Dead.