Niko walked through the alley, the rain bouncing off his leather jacket. He gripped his .38 revolver as he advanced upon the man being held tightly against the brick wall by two loyal goombas. Niko wore a slight smile, teasing at the side of his mouth. He was unlike others, he enjoyed this moment, that moment when you look into a man's eyes before his death, this moment is when your victim's persona is revealed. In this case, the man was a coward. He pleaded and struggled against the strong arms of the goombas as Niko raised his .38.

We warned you that if you sold on our turf and didn't pay up a percentage, we'd come find you.

Niko pulled the hammer back as he placed the barrel in the scumbag's mouth. He smiled at him as he pulled the trigger, his brains splattering against the wall as his body went limp and the goombas let him drop to the concrete. The noise of the gunshot echoed between the walls. Good thing it was late, and no one in this part of Chicago would call in this kind of activity, they all knew better. It was time to report back to his sponsor, and get a stiff drink. Niko looked at the two goombas, both of them were anxious, obviously worried about what came next.

Well boys, you know what to do with the body I presume?

Both of them looked at Niko and nodded, they wore grim expressions. Niko remembered his first cleanup, that bastard just wouldn't stop twitching, he was probably still twitching at the bottom of the ocean. He laughed at that thought, which surprised the Goombas, they looked at each other as if he was insane. Niko walked out of the alley and down the street, his .38 tucked safely in it's shoulder holster beneath his leather jacket.

Anthony liked the doorways. They held the shadows that concealed his activities from the world. As the leather clad man marched passed Anthony grimaced and pressed harder against the door, trying not give away his position to the man who so intent upon his own course of action. He watched the man pull the gun and then heard the report over the din. The rain had a way of washing everything away immediately, except the sin. Anthony wondered about these sort of men, killers he supposed, the damned maybe. They had their uses no doubt, but how cold do you have to be to shoot a guy in the rain?

Anthony left the alley quietly, had anyone bothered to look they would have noted the blue lips, crossed eyes, and lolling tongue of his latest work in a heap in the doorway. But no one did.