The crack of light through the side of the curtains led to a grunt from the person under the covers.

"No one said anything about crack of dawn shifts before I joined the fucking department" said the voice beneath the mass of covers.

Throwing the covers to the side he swung his legs out of the bed and sat up. John looked at himself, he was a sorry sight in the mirror, bloodshot eyes and pale white skin stared back at him. Reaching for a bottle of liquor he poured a glass and drank it in one. For many months now John had been contemplating his years in the force. In his heart he just knew this wasn't for him, he wanted money, fame and everything that came with it. Sighing he stands up before making his way to the bathroom and freshening up.

At 24 years of age he was the youngest detective in the department but his real upbringing still shine through. Putting a suit jacket on top of his creased shirt he picked up his badge and hung it over his neck. Slipping his gun into the holster he left his rundown apartment and went down to the car.

15 minutes later he found himself sat in a local cafe sipping on a coffee, he found his eyes drawn the group across the street sat outside a local cafe. Men in suits, men with money sitting smoking cigars and drinking liquor. They were mob men, the department knew it, everyone knew it. These guys were untouchable. Whilst staring out of the window a call came in from nearby. Leaving a pile of change in the table he made his way outside and into the car, driving for about 2 blocks he reached the scene. He was the first to attend, suddenly shots rang out and he jumped out of the car before cautiously making his way towards the business in question. As he is about to enter the door bursts open and knocks him off his feet before a figure comes darting past. Rising to his feet he chases the person without thinking of picking up his gun. The drinking and smoking were beginning to catch up on him he thought as the sweat dropped down his forehead and the next breath seemed harder to take than the last.

"Stop running" he screamed at the figure who had just darted into an alley way. The figure seemed to notice he wasn't getting away and stopped abruptly in front of John who continued running and connected with a punch to the side of the man's face. His gun flying away as he lands on the ground.

"You should have just stopped running you fucking prick" John swore at the man whilst catching his breath.

"Fuck you pig" was all the man said as he lay on the ground. John noticed the man clinging on to a package and snatched it off him, opening it his eyes went wide with surprise.

"That's a lot for a fucking street bum" he says to the man.

"Do you know who's money that is you fucking pig" the man said through broken laughter.

"You be a good little boy now and give me that back and we can forget this ever happened. Go back to your fucking pathetic excuse for a life" the man laughed at John and something inside of him snapped and he approached the man.

"My pathetic life you fucking wretch" he said with malice before suddenly unleashing a kick to the man's head. A few minutes passed before John relented and stopped kicking. All that was below him was a mass of blood and a broken body. Adrenaline rushes through John's body as he looked around. He had just murdered a man in cold blood. The thing that worried him was he felt no remorse, no hurt, nothing. In fact he would go as far as saying he had enjoyed it. A smile spread across his face, John knew now what he wanted to do. He was on the wrong team just now and it had taken an epiphany for him to figure that out. Turning he tucks the envelope inside of his jacket. Smile spreading he removed his badge from his neck and threw it over a nearby fence. He had made a decision today, one that may have been coming for a long time. Deep down he knew he had made the correct decision. His life was never complete on the right side of the law.

"The time has come to take my future into my own hands" he says out look to no one in particular. Getting into his car he started the engine before turning the car around and driving back to the cafe. Stepping out of his car he approaches the figures sat around the table. Burly men who he took as bodyguards approached him before he got within 10 feet of the table.

"Who the fuck are you?" One of the figures says to him.

"I'm a nobody, an outcast and I come to ask your boss for some work" John says as he stares right passed the bodyguard. Looking at the man sat at the table who stares back with interest.

John was surprised by the reaction, then again he didn't know how this way of life worked.

"Alright then, I'll pay this guy a visit" 

John picked up the gun and slip of paper before turning and walking back to his car. Getting in he looks at the slip of paper before starting the engine and moving off, driving silently to the address marked on the paper. Sitting outside he checks the address and confirms its the right place. As he gets out the car he pulls his coat in closer together, wind was high in this part of town and his hands and face were freezing. Rubbing his hands together he blows into them and walks into the Italian restaraunt and up to the bar area before being approached by a middle aged gentleman.

"What can I get for you?" He asks.

"I'm looking for Tommy. Tommy Valenti"

"Who wants him?" The man replies with a surprised look in his eyes. 

"Just a friend, I have a proposition for him"

 The man goes silent as he ponders the statement before chirping up "I'm Tommy" was as far as the man got before John removed the gun from his pocket and hit the man with it in the side of the temple. Moving round the back of the bar he continues hitting the man with the gun until he is barely recognisable. He turns as someone comes running at him from a door behind the bar, raising his gun he fires one shit catching the boy barely a teenage in the temple. 

"Should have stayed in the back kid" he says, grunting before looking down at the barely conscious make at his feet. Kneeling down he looks the man in the pleading eyes.

"Now where were we....oh yes that's right" he lifts a cigar cutter from the bar and slides the mans fingers into it. One finger....two fingers....three fingers...when he was finished the man was barely alive and he didn't foresee him being of this world for much longer. Standing up he picks a bag up and collects each finger placing it inside. Turning he walks to the door. "Thanks for your custom" he says chuckling as he walks back to the car. Starting the engine he drives back to the cafe. Noticing no one is sitting outside anymore because it was cold as a meat freezer probably he thought to himself, he made his way inside. Walking over to where the men now sat he turned the bag out on the table and watched with amusement as each finger fell on top of what was looking like a good card game in play.

"Now can we talk? Oh and that nice little restaraunt needs a new proprietor if your interested, don't think that guy will be back"

John stares at the group, gauging the reaction of those around him.

John laughs at the reaction of the group around the table. The only one who seemed in phased was the big one who seemed to call the shots. He beckons to John to follow him, laughing as they walk away John purposely smiles at each man who passes him, a look of anger in their eyes. John didn't give a fuck though, he was committed now and was fully planning on giving 110% to this style of life. This was the way John should have been living life, doing what the fuck he wanted and when he wanted. Not getting up at 5am to go help some old lady get a fucking cat from a tree.The man stops outside the door to a room and turns to him. Listening to the man speaking John nods. 

"I won't fuck it up my friend do not worry" he smiles at the man before they enter the office and the man makes the introductions. Standing for a moment John looks at Don Technical on the other side of the desk before moving forward and offering his hand in a hand shake.

"Don Technical, it's is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is John...John Taletta"

He stands with his hand offered, waiting on the don to decide if he was worth the time or not. 

Technical was going through the multiple letters spread out on his desk about a man in an Italian restaurant stirring up problems. He pondered how the situation was going to be resolved as he moved them all into a neat stack on the corner of his desk. Quickly grabbing his cigarettes to get his stress reliever started, they helped him think.

TommyAngelo came into the room with John Taletta and mentioned that it was taken care of. John's hand was extended out with a pleasant greeting to him. Technical immediately noticed the dried blood over his hands. He pulled out his handkerchief from his suit pocket and placed it over John's hand. 

"We don't leave evidence of our work. Go get cleaned up and meet up with our tailor for a new suit. TommyAngelo has the cleaner been told yet?"

Technical put his right hand over the stack of letters and slide it into the trashcan beside his desk. He smiled and looked into John's eyes.

"You can't be John Taletta anymore, think of another name. When can you start?"

Technical straightened up his pants.

"It's good to meet you? What's your name again?"

Technical raised his left eyebrow, expecting not to hear John Taletta.

John smiles and accepts the handkerchief before rubbing his hands, realising the blood isn't coming off he decided to wash it in the bathroom afterwards. 

"Apologies sir, the excitement just overcame me and getting rid of the evidence never crossed my mind"

John ponders what Don Technical is saying and nods. 

"I agree sir, however in my experience a name is nothing but a means for the government to keep a closer eye on me. That being said from now on I will go by TheOutcast. No names leave no evidence of my being for anyone to follow"

John turns to leave before stopping. 

"I have already started Don Technical. Anything you need let me know. Now where do I find this tailor?"