Chronic's Cuh-Razy Characters

[ChronicNades]

Leon Starris
Age: 22
Occupation: Unemployed/Vigilante
Clothing: Black t-shirt, jeans, thick brown windbreaker.
Equipment: "Glassbreaker" - a M1911 pistol, a backpack filled with various snacks, a notebook full of names, a guinea pig named Jeff.

It was raining outside. The pattering of raindrops nearly drowned out the sound of the various vehicles driving by the dark alleyway that Leon stood in, his arm outstretched. He wasn't alone. Before him sat a man, his back against the wall, with a pistol to his head. You could almost tell he was crying, pleading for his life. But the rain was encompassing the senses.

"P-please....you don't have to do this..." The man stuttered through gasping breaths. He held his hand up, covering his face. The rain dripped from Leons hair, leaving wet trailmarks running down the mans burly arm as it fell. Leon grasped his pistol Glassbreaker, pushing and twisting it against the man's forehead.

"You're wrong. I do have to do this. I've read a lot about you, Gregory. That's your name, right? Gregory Atlas?" The pistol gleamed from the light of a nearby streetlight, barely illuminating the alley. "But you shouldn't worry. If I pull this trigger, and the gun doesn't fire, then that means I was wrong, and you can walk free."

"What?! That's insane! Please, d-don't..." As he shuddered, Leon knelt down, becoming eye level with his captive.

"You don't understand. This gun? It's special. I don't know if it's possessed, it's magic, or what the hell it is...it looks like a regular pistol...but.." He paused and wiped his wet brown hair out of his eyes. "But unless you are evil in your heart, then the gun will not fire. Watch." He stood back up and looked to his left and right before reaching down into his bag. He pulled out a small guinea pig. "Here, hold him, his names Jeff." He let out a sly smile and placed the tiny rodent in Gregory's hands, before placing the gun right up against the animal and pulling the trigger. There was an audible click, then another and another as Leon pulled the trigger multiple times. He chuckled. "Believe it or not, animals are incapable of evil. That's a truly human trait. So you see? Nothing to worry about, right? And before you ask, yes, the gun is loaded." He quickly pressed the magazine release to show his captive the full clip of armor piercing rounds before shoving the magazine back into the gun and pulling it back to chamber the round.

"B-but...."The man was at a loss for words.

"Well, I suppose it's time to get this show on the road, don't you think?" He placed the gun quickly against the man's forehead, and without a second thought, pulled the trigger.

Bang.

"Shhh shh shhh. Come on now Jeff, ya little rodent. Just a gunshot, no need to freak out." He grabbed the panicking guinea pig out of the dead man's hands and began to wipe the blood off of it's fur. "He was a bad man. A real bad man. If you only knew. Well....we should get going. Police are probably gonna be here soon. Go on...back ya go..." He placed Jeff back into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He placed the pistol in it's holster on his right and covered it with his now drenched in rain jacket he had left on the ground of the alley. He looted the man's pockets. A wallet, a set of car keys, and a train pass. And he headed home.

Leon's Apartment. Southside Chicago.

It was a quiet ride home. The bus was filled with the usual patrons, and there wasn't incident. No one even looked his way. When he got home he opened the door to his building, and walked upstairs to the third floor, opened his apartment building, walked inside, and collapsed on his grungy dumpster chair. The apartment was nothing special. Barely any furnishings, and the ones that were there looked right out of a landfill. But it didn't matter.

He reached into his backpack and grabbed Jeff and set him on the coffee table and placed Glassbreaker next to the furry creature. He then rifled through his pack and brought out his notebook, flipping through it til he found the page he desired. Grabbing a pen, he crossed out a name.

Gregory Atlas. Abuse. Homocide. Ruled as involuntary manslaughter. Out on good behavior.

Leon closed the notebook and sighed, leaning his head back. "How long has it been now? 2 years? Maybe 3...since I found.." He looked at the gun on his table. He couldn't remember finding it. But he knew how long it's been. He remembers the first person he killed with it. A man, much older than him. He didn't cry like Gregory did. He had fought back, using a butcher knife to try and defend himself. But the gun fired true. If it deemed you worthy to be punished, then there was no escaping. It fired true on those with truly corrupt souls and evil in their hearts. He knew this to be true, but....why? He couldn't remember...

And then he was struck with a terrible thought.

He sat forward, placing his forearms on his knees, crossing his fingers together, staring at the pistol. It was a beautiful gun. A classic M1911, with intricate engravings all across the comfort grip handle. He sat there for a long time. Why hadn't he thought of this before? Maybe he didn't want to...

He grabbed the gun and took a deep breath, before bring it to his own temple. He closed his eyes...

Bang.


...


When he awoke, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He could see lights, windows, seats. Was he on a bus? No....no it was dark outside, like he was in a tunnel. A train? That was more accurate. He rubbed his eyes and looked around more adeptly. It was empty. No one was on the train with him. He heard a small squeak. He looked to his seat on his left and saw his guinea pig Jeff pulling a protein bar out of his backpack and nibbling it open to reach it's contents. "Huh. Okay." He looked to his right. Glassbreaker. Still in it's holster. He thought back to the last thing he could remember, and despite all his best efforts, it evaded him. He remembered taking the bus home but...then it goes dark. "How the fuck did I....Ah fuck it..."

For a moment he thought about just waiting until the train stopped, but after sitting for nearly half an hour, he decided to move. Perhaps there was someone else here. Someone that could tell him how he got here. He grabbed his pack, placed Jeff inside, gulped down the other half of the protein bar, and began to make his way towards the front of the train.