... And through the throes of death a young recruit of Godfather Tyler Durden, Henry, speaks softly under his breath, “Emma…”

The streets of Delaware City are lit up. This is a city that many people haven’t seen. It’s right there on the map though, and tonight it is busy. Tonight, they’re supposed to be moving a large shipment of booze and the devil’s dandruff into Philly. The city is bustling about, and the other cities are busy doing their own thing. Clueless of what really is in that shipment, what the real plans are of Delaware City.

Henry is done lifting crates, and decides to go to a local speakeasy. During his stroll there, he contemplates if this is going to be his last stop for a drink, if this is going to be the last time he can try to peek up the barmaid’s skirt, if this is the last time he can run out on a bill…

In the speakeasy, the mood is solemn, but there is some definite aggression in everyone to finish their drinks. Shots are downed quickly, and methodically, almost in a machine-like fashion. The men in the bar lead whores into the bathroom, and don’t even bother to use up the time they paid for, in and out, and done. Everyone is prepped for what they have ahead of them tonight. Henry downs some strange soapy bathtub gin. A barmaid bends over to pick up some peanut shells, and he pinches her ass. She smacks him.

“Henry, you know you can’t do that here.”

“Come on, Emma. This could be our last few minutes together.”

“Henry… There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

Henry gets up and leaves. He knows what she wants to tell him, but he can’t have that on his mind now. He rushes to the meeting point. There he sees Tyler himself standing on a milk crate spouting out orders regarding their storming of Philadelphia.

Henry gets on a truck loaded with clanking bottles. It speeds down a highway. The other men in the truck nap away some of their liquor, and snore over the hum of the diesel engine. By morning they will have proven themselves to the world.

The truck comes to a stop on Market Street as the sun has fully risen. The men start exiting the trucks lined up on the street. The men grab their weapons from the trucks. The drivers say into the trucks and start saying goodbye to the other men, as they drive off to their final destinations, with their full payloads ready to blow.

Minutes later, explosions go off, and screams are heard from a large building of civilians just arriving to work at their respective government offices. Terror is in the streets, and mayhem ensues as the surviving slightly burned civilians run wildly looking for cover. Henry grabs his gun, and starts firing. He says to himself, “This will show the world that we aren’t second class citizens. This will show the world to respect our values.” He fires his gun into the swarm of people, as the other in his pack do as well. Civilians fall to the floor, bleeding crimson onto fall leaves under a northeastern sun. The screaming comes to a halt, since there are no more screams to be had. Henry walks through the streets where the rest of the men under Tyler were sure to leave no survivors. Old City District is a wasteland of gore, flying newspapers, and deep silence.

Henry questions why there was no resistance by the civilians. He mulls this over as he steps over some corpses next to a newspaper stand. He reaches into the stand to grab a cigarette, and lights it on a matchbook he had pulled from one of those three piece suit wearing scumbags. At the newsstand, he looks over some of today’s paper. The headline of one says, “Tyler Durden Speaks of Destruction of Commerce.”

Henry walks into a bank and he hears a groan emitted from behind a teller’s booth. He withdraws his gun from his pocket, and creeps in slowly. He sees a young boy with blood all over him with his attention on an older man.

“Grandfather, don’t worry. They will come for us. They will help get the Delawarians out of our city. Just wait.”

Henry watches this scene, and inches closer. He snickers at the boldness of the civilians. He notices some alarm on the boy’s face, as he starts trying to shake the shoulders of his grandfather. The boy starts crying profusely. He wipes his tears away with is bloodied hands, smearing blood under his eyes and cheeks. Henry moves in a bit more, but bumps into a desk, knocking over a copy of David Copperfield. The boy’s attention immediately turns to Henry.

“Kill me,” the boy says.

Henry stares into the boy’s eyes, and raises his gun.

“Kill me like the rest of the civilians.”

Henry just looks at his blue bloodshot eyes, and starts to turn away.

“We’ll be avenged. You’ll see,” the boy shouts, “We’ll be avenged by the rest of the cities.”

Henry turns to the boy briefly, and notices more tears welling up in his eyes. As Henry walks back out of the bank, one of the other Delawarians shouts, “Look out,” and fires at the boy’s head. A bit deafened by the sound, Henry turns to see the boy fall, along with a gun.

The other Delawarian walks over to the boy and inspects the body. He finds a pin on his shirt of an “L” on it. “I guess this civilian was really a gangster,” He remarks.

Henry says, “Thanks for saving me,” and walks away. Something has him a bit shaken from the boy. Could civilians really take up arms? Are all civilians really just unrevealed gangsters? As he crosses the next street, he sees something in the distance, but can’t quite make out what it is. The obscuring glare of the sun makes it seem like a hill of yellow, brown, and orange. It was then that they swarmed in.

“Gobble. Gobble. Gobble. Gobble. Gobble. Gobble.”

It was then that Henry knew what was happening. He had only heard rumours of this as a child back in Delaware City. He quickly rushed into a supermarket as he watched several of his other men get torn apart. He runs to a broom closet and locks himself in while listening to the streams and the mesmerizing sound of “gobbles” swarming the city. After a while, he is lulled to sleep for four hours by the sounds of the turkeys. The screams subside, and he wakes up in the dark broom closet, with the boy’s face staring at him in the perfect darkness. The boy speaks to him, “You are all going to pay,” and disappears back into the black.

Henry stands up and walks out of the supermarket to see all the bodies strewn about in the street, pecked to death. Innards and viscera blanketed out on the street, blood already scabbing the sidewalk, and torn stomachs oozing out the contents from the fellow Delawarian’s last meals. Henry looks around, and there he sees Tyler fending off some of the turkeys. Suddenly, the turkeys turn their attention to Henry, and envelope him in feathers. As they tear him open like a dog would with a wrapped piece of steak, he gets one final view of Tyler, and watches him fall to their turkey forces, with Kimble dealing the final blow. He starts saying, “Emma…”

And so as Henry drifts of into the grips of death, he recalls the bloodied boy and carnage. He recalls the orders of his Godfather Tyler, and how none of it really mattered in the end. None of it made any sense. He thinks of how wanting to be remembered is the real drive of man, and killing the innocents is really all but pointless in the end… He envisions Emma giving birth to a son, and as the boy gives out his first cries, life means so much more to him in that moment. A turkey pecks at both his eyes, and like a light bulb flickering and burning out, his light ceases.