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The night waned into the late hours, and ash and smoke from nearby burning buildings could be seen fluttering into the cool November air. Moving through the dark alleyways and blending into the shadows, Michael had beset a local holdout. Its fortifications were heavily battered and in disarray. Within the compound, members of the local syndicate were running back and forth, moving supplies and equipment. One of the men trailed off to a separate end to take care of things. Michael effortlessly lowered himself from the ceiling rafters. The man turned around, and before he could even react, a knife was driven through his sternum with such force that he was lifted off the ground. Leaving the lifeless body there, Michael walked without a sound through the building until he came to a courtyard area where two more men were dealing with supplies. As he watched from the window, a loud commotion erupted from the gates of the holdout or what was left of them. They flew open, and a man in a black trench coat holding TNT tossed his explosive at the men, killing them instantly as he screamed obscenities. Michael tilted his head and watched as the man disappeared. All went quiet in the area, though the smell of blood lingered in the air. Michael found a piece of cardboard, ripped a section off, and wrote on it. Walking over to one of the large wooden crates in the courtyard, he drove the knife several inches into the wood with explosive force, leaving a message for all to see.
Wandering Souls Asylum
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