Pain.

Sharp, godawful pain, that's the only thing Tyler could feel right now, his right hand twitching from the 1st degree burns he had suffered hours ago. Pain and anger, all because Luca decided to show off with him, to prove he was better than him.

Now he had a 45 millimeter hole somewhere around his chest and a brand new set of scars to talk about.

"Fucking cocky German motherfucker..." He muttered to himself as he tried to open the cabinet where he stashed his medical supplies, to no result, the thing was stuck and it wasn't budging.

"Trusted him as a friend, gave him work, drank with that shithead, for nothing. For fucking nothing, just like all those other masked nut..." Tyler released his grip on the cabinet, turned around away from it, trying to control himself. He instantly kicked the cabinet, tripping over as a loud gunshot shattered the window next to him, a .50 BMG shell flew next to Tyler's face as he fell down on his couch, falling onto his coffee table, which broke under the man's weight.

More pain, mixed with surprise took over Tyler's body as he got up, his eyes going straight for the broken window. He quickly jumped off, just in time to dodge a second bullet.

Tyler ran to his room, shutting the door as he jumped to the side, just in case the sniper tried to take him out as he retreated.

Tyler went straight for his bed, where his bags laid still, still unpacked from his New York trip. His eyes shinned upon seeing an M16 rifle, resting next to his spare shirts, his new Yankees cap and a wooden baseball bat.

"Oh Rob, you ain't gonna miss me." said Tyler, putting his cap on and grabbing the rifle.

"Fuck... Missed.... Stay...still... you fucking maggot...." 死, also known as "Death" said, reloading her Barrett M82 quickly.

"Stay...still...... Inhale...Exh-"

Bullets flew towards her, her eyes widening as the ten bullets seemingly just stopped in the air. The bullets hit her chest, some penetrating her Kevlar vest. She spat blood, falling on her back.

The target was keeping her under constant fire. She threw her rifle to the side, grabbing her machete which was in it's respective holster behind her.

"You're fucking...dead..." she said as she crawled down the stairs, slowly sneaking towards her assailant's home. He seemingly hasn't spotted her yet, still firing at her previous position.

Her foot met the door, the door flying out of it's frame.

Tyler quickly jumped back to his room, shooting this rifle as he did, with hopes of hitting his assassin. He locked the door tight and quickly grabbed the bat from the bed before taking cover next to the door.

He looked at the window in front of him, giving one last look at the moon as he grabbed the bat tightly, embracing the pain on his right arm.

"Fuck my life." Muttered Tyler Jones, as he prepared to die.

Before he could even think, the door's lock exploded, Tyler quickly threw his body to the door, breaking it off it's hinges, catching the young assassin by surprise as the wooden door fell on top of her.

"BATTER UP!" yelled Tyler at the top of his lungs, stepping on the assassin's left hand, and bringing the bat down on her head.

Tyler began to bash the assassin's head in, as she yelled him, pleading him to stop, Tyler actually listened to her after the third hit, when he prepped the bat against the girl's neck with his foot.

"Ey, ey, ey, ey, don't fall asleep now, a'ght, you little bitch?" Said Tyler, snapping the fingers on his left hand in front of Death's face with a shit-eating grin.

"Fuc..." The girl's words died on her mouth as Tyler chocked her with the bat, leaning closer to her battered and bloodied face.

"Now, you're gonna confirm my suspicion. Or I'm just get sure your death is slow and painful. I have no idea when are the cops gonna arrive, so make it quick, alright?" Calmly explained Tyler. "Is your contractor called Luca? Or... Hans? Or something that involves cocks or German shit?"

Death laughed, as tears strolled down her face. Tyler also started to laugh, moments before he released his grip on the bat and started stomping Death's head in, his laugh turning into an incoherent mix of insults, anger and pain. When Tyler stopped, her head was cracked in two and his shoes and pants were stained with brains.

He calmly dropped the bat and walked back to his room, emerging seconds later with his luggage at hand. He went to the kitchen and broke the gas valves before exiting the room, and replaced his baseball cap with his mask.

He pulled out a matchbook.

"Triangle Club, Best strip show in the big apple!" read the thing.

Tyler chucked before lighting the matches and throwing them inside, setting the apartment on fire.