You know that moment when you realise all has gone to shit? When you gather yourself in that one moment, that one instance of time that seems to linger longer than it should and you realise without a shadow of a doubt you’ve fucked up? Yeah, that one.

It’s that space in time when either the devil himself comes up from the depths of hell and grabs you by the nuts, or the bearded white robed righteous one falls from the heavens and taps you on the shoulder amidst a blinding engulfing light.

Well that’s where Axel was, neck deep in his own shit while Satan fondled his balls. Technically, it was as close as he’d get to either one. Being buried in a cemetery outside of Los Angeles would probably have you feeling the same way, no?

Outside the city of Angels, far enough that it sent a metaphorical message he was at arm’s length from redemption. Close, but no cigar. The smoke of his sins lingered on his corpse like a stench that just didn’t allow him to completely find his way back.

The Angel’s wouldn’t allow it, not yet anyways. And a corpse? At least that’s what he was supposed to be. Dead and buried, gone and hopefully forgotten, a soon to be distant memory. That’s what they hoped when they left the shallow grave, that Axel would no longer be a nuisance. He was too close, too deep, too invested in their destruction.

And who are they you ask? Well, that’s where this part of the story starts…

“Romeo! Get the fuck out here!” Axel shouted in a drunken stupor.

“Face me like a man you fuckn.. you fuckn bitch!” he continued then threw his empty bottle at the door.

“I know you’re in there! Get the fuck out here!”

Axel had hit the bottle something fierce. His habit started as a way to push back the nightmares, those little nightly nudges that felt more like being poked with Satan’s trident. He wanted out, wanted a way to mask the pain and the visions. He couldn’t bare it. Not the nightmares themselves but the feeling of loss.

He never truly got to meet her and then she was gone, killed right in front of him. That’s why he drank. To drown out feeling of despair. Yet ironically, his efforts to drown out what he didn’t want to remember caused him more suffering, more pain, more anguish. And he’d finally lost his shit.

“Romeo!”

With rain bucketing down Axel dropped to his knees outside The Northern Club. God’s tears mixed with his own as they together streamed down his face. He was a man a part, a tortured soul reacting to the gnawing at his conscious. He felt like he had failed her and his only way to redeem himself would be through the fires of vengeance.

Axel’s heart was overfilled with anger and hatred, so much so it blinded him to any kind of tactful attempt. He was burning with the desire to put his hands around the neck of the man who had pulled the trigger. The man who put a bullet through Sarah’s head, right in front of him.

The cold and wet of the night didn’t damper his flame. It burnt so strong it was consuming him, physically, mentally and spiritually. He wasn’t himself, and the moonshine only added fuel to an already out of control desire. He was at the point of blind intoxicated rage, the kind that never lead to anything good let alone constructive.

And that’s when it hit him. A shovel to the back of the head. Lights out, for now…

There she was, staring right back at him. Curly blond locks and deep blue eyes with a smile that spoke of contentment, comfort. She seemed at peace, at one with herself and her place in the world regardless of her smudged make up. Then the loud bang. As the bullet tore through her skull Axel was violently shaken awake from his nightmare.

He sat up with quickened breath to a sun glare that blinded him, causing him to cover his eyes with his dirty and bloody right hand. As his hand hit his face he noticed a throbbing pain in his head. Then it hit him. Dirt on his chest and legs.

“Wakey, wakey sunshine!”

The sound of shovels digging into ground. The sun still glaring and keeping Axel from seeing the face behind the voice. He felt light headed, dehydrated and slow of thought yet one thing he knew for certain was he could feel the warm sun from above and the dusty dirt underneath him.

Axel tried feeling around and noticed to his left a wall of dirt. Now it was impossible to deny that he was in fact sitting in a ditch, a freshly dug ditch, in account of gripping a handful of it as he was forced back down by a solid boot to the face.

“Ah you never would’ve guessed you’d be here would you?” The voice laughed and teased as Axel lay face down in a similar spot he awoke in.

“Mr Axe man. I heard stories about you. Men going missing. Later found limbless, fucked up in all sorts of ways. You’ve become somewhat of a folk tale to some. A man to be feared.”

More dirt piled into the ditch as Axel turned himself over and onto his back. He gasped for air in shallow quick breaths while holding his throbbing head with both hands. He felt there was a definite gash on the back of it, his short hair clumped together in patches by dried up blood.

“But to me? Why fear the unknown, I say. And after meeting you face to face, I see nothing more than a weak man desperate for attention.” Said the voice as it drew nearer to Axel. “Now, look at me.” It continued.

Axel put his hand over his face, covering it partially and creating a visor to block out the midday sun. It was high in the sky, no clouds in sight. A perfectly sunny day to die if there ever was one.

Squinting and still hurting, Axel’s eyes at least now allowed him to catch a glimpse of a figure standing at the base of the ditch he found himself in. As they slowly attuned to the daylight, the figure started to become clearer.

“Look at the man you’ve so ferociously sought after, and killed so many to get to this moment.” The figure said as he pulled a knife from its sheath that was loosely buckled around his waist.

“Now I must say, I didn’t think it would be this easy. I mean you practically threw yourself at me. I thought I’d have to hunt you down or you’d eventually meet me with more tact.”

Another shovel of dirt was flung at Axel that slapped against his chest and then another from the opposite side that hit him smack bang in the face with some force. There were two other men who were either side of the ditch while the lippy one was at the foot of it.  Suddenly the vocal one stepped down into the ditch where Axel was still laying.

Axel spat out a mixture of blood and dirt then looked up at a man standing in front of him. The cover of his shadow allowed Axel’s eyes to finally get a proper glimpse of the man. His face was what he’d been searching for ever since he made the decision to leave the comfort of the Church and pursue Sarah’s killer. It was Romeo, closer than he’d ever been before, at arm’s length.

More dirt was flicked onto Axel from the two goons either side as Romeo kept on with his one way conversation.

“But no, you’ve made it a little too easy if I do say. I like the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline of it all. And you, the infamous Axel, just turned up on my doorstep. Drunk and whimpering like a little bitch. I’m a little disappointed.”

Axel forced himself up a little and leaned back on his left arm, resting on his elbow. He was partially covered in dirt. The glare of the sun hit his eyes again causing him to cover them with his right hand. Romeo was toying with the knife, shining the sun’s reflection off the blade and onto Axel’s face.

“But, a win’s a win any day of the week and I’ll take a win over a loss every damn day. You fucked up, ace, and this is what happens when you fuck up.”

The two men either side dropped their shovels and joined Axel and Romeo in the shallowly dug grave. They grabbed an arm each and pulled Axel up, propping him up on his knees and holding him as their boss made his way forward. Romeo stood a foot from Axel, looking down at him with the knife dangling at his side in his dominant right hand. He flicked it around and around, toying with it.

“You see, in the end it doesn’t matter how you win, but simply that you come out on top.”

Romeo put one knee on the dirt as he knelt down in front of his defenceless and incapacitated hostage, who wasn’t struggling in the slightest. Axel was too battered, bruised and hung-over to muster any strength to retaliate against the two men holding him, let alone able to take on a third wielding a knife.

As Romeo drew closer and placed the knife to his target’s throat, Axel had a moment of clarity. He figured dying in pursuit of a redeeming purpose was as good as having completed the task. At least he’d hopefully get to meet his sister in the life thereafter, the one he’d been killing in the name of on his vengeful rampage from New York, to Los Angeles and now Las Vegas.

A smirk crossed Axel’s face with this realization, which was met in response with the knife’s blade being pushed hard against his throat. The pressure instantly drew blood. Romeo wasn’t too impressed and he made it a point to let him know. The man at his disposal was nearing death and he wasn’t the least bit begging for it or concerned for his life. Romeo was annoyed, but also curious.

“Why do you smile? I’m about to end your life and you don’t fear me? You don’t fear dying?”

Axel swallowed as the five inch blade was pressed harder against his neck, forcing him to release his smiley attitude. He took a breath then forced out a teeth gritting and bloody response.

“When you’re in God’s grace, death comes to no man.”

The blade of the knife let up. Axel’s head drooped forward. Romeo started laughing in response as he looked at his two men in front of him who were either side of Axel, holding the captive firmly in place. One smirked as he looked back at his boss, the other showed no reaction, his eyes and focus directed solely at Axel.

The more serious of the two heavies wasn’t in the mood for games. He gripped the back of Axel’s hair, pulling it tight and downwards, exposing Axel’s neck and propping his chin up high in the air. Blood trickled out of the fresh cut.

“Come on Romeo, just finish this mick and let’s be done with it!” The less than impressed associate urged as he gripped tighter, forcing Axel’s head to be pulled back even more. Axel’s eyes were forced to close again as the sun’s rays struck them.

“Calm down John, this here is a man without fear. He’s got nothing to lose, so he fears nothing. He speaks of God, yet maybe he’s really just content with getting out of this shit show.”

Peeved yet still following his boss’ orders, the man spat on Axel’s cheek then shoved his head angrily forward as he released his grip. Axel’s head once more dangled in front of his chest. This time he closed his eyes and awaited the inevitable.

Romeo ran his left hand through his black slicked back hair as he flipped the Marbles Stag knife in the air, catching it after a single rotation. As the sun beat down at the back of an old abandoned and remote family cemetery outside of Los Angeles, Romeo flipped the knife again as he contemplated his next move.

Imogene all but skips down the sidewalk.  She has to contain herself most of the time, from behaving like an adolescent school girl.  She is just always on the verge of giddy.

 As she makes her way down the street, she has a secret in her handbag.  It’s a little over $20,000.   She needs a place to hide it, and for the life of her she can’t think of a good place.  A frown comes across her face, marring her good looks for just a split second.   There is no way she can take this home with her, and she certainly can’t carry it around with her either. Then it comes to her, she has an idea.  She remembers hearing of an out of the way cemetery, and she decides to check it out and see if there is someplace she can stash the cash there.

She hops in her car and drives to the outskirts of town, looking around.  Thinking to herself that she is never going to find it, something catches her eye.  It’s really tucked back in there and barely visible if you aren’t paying attention.

Imogene slips out of her car, purse in one hand and Beretta in the other.

As she approaches the graveyard, she hears voices and she is pretty sure it isn’t the dead.  She sees some men, and at first doesn’t think too much of it.  People visit graves all the time, don’t they?  Something doesn’t sit right with her though.  Imogene smells trouble, and she is almost never wrong when she gets that feeling.

They don’t notice her just yet, so she decides to stay in the background to see what transpires.  She stays just barely out of sight.  Now Imogene is fairly difficult to miss, especially if you are a red blooded male.  She makes herself as unobtrusive as possible, and waits for opportunity.

To Imogene, it looks like a murder is about to take place.  “What an opportunistic place,” She mumbles to herself. There seems to be one particularly smarmy looking gent in charge, and Imogene shudders with dread at the sight of him.

While the brain of the operation seems to be getting agitated,   the other ones decide to take a break.  She watches as they walk over to a car on the other side of the path to smoke a cigarette.

Imogene scoots a little closer, and from what she can tell, the heavy is about to bump off some poor guy.  As long as the other guys stay back, Imogene thinks she can take this one without a gun.   She sticks her beloved Beretta into her stocking.  She never met a man yet who she couldn’t bamboozle.  She doesn’t want to get too close, for fear of her own life, so she hatches a little plan.  Imogene scoops up some dirt from the ground and grinds it into her face a bit.  Then she grabs her blouse and tears it just enough to show some skin.  As an afterthought, she throws a bit of dirt on her knees and then she heads toward him.  Talking loud enough for him to hear, but not quite shouting, she says,

“That son of a b*&$h, I’m going to kill him!”

 Cigarette guys are so immersed in their conversation, that they don’t even seem to hear her, but the Brain looks at her right away.  She flashes him her phoniest smile, and says:

“Can you help me please, I’ve been attacked.”

Now Brainy can’t seem to make up his mind what to do for a split second, so she continues to put on her best helpless little female act for him.  She musters up all the sex appeal that she can, bending over a little to lure him in further.

“Okay honey, what seems to be the problem ‘dere?” 

As he moves toward her, Imogene hopes that the hapless victim has enough sense and fortitude to do something.  She continues reeling in Brainy, but she knows she doesn’t have long.

It wasn't exactly the day he'd come to expect, especially when Axel felt he was moments away from taking the life of the one he'd been chasing all this time. He entered this life, this world of criminal families and organizations, of rules and codes of conduct, the honoured society as some would call it years later, all on a whim. He came under the protection and work of Don Slash and the Vegas collective off a chance encounter, yet all the while he was chasing demons.

One such dark soul was Romeo, who had left Axel in the poorly dug ditch to entertain the distracting efforts of Imogene. As she put on her best helpless and in-need-of-a-man impression, Axel lifted his gaze toward the two. He'd never met Imogene before, yet as his eyes fixated on her, he couldn't help but feel as though he was in the presence of an angel.

The light of the blinding midday sun, his hangover, his bloody and bruised body and ego, and the fact they were just outside the City of Angel's, it all culminated in a single moment of clarity. That moment a drunk has when he's hit rock bottom and the clouds part, just a moment, to let the light of insight through. Axel was literally on his death bed and in some ways below rock bottom, still on his knees in the makeshift grave that had his name written all over it, in his own blood.

With the two men caught up in a conversation, one they have been having the past two days on which baseball team was better, Axel had his drunkard light bulb moment. It was now or never. Yet did he have enough energy to muster something, anything, to turn his coffin into a springboard for life? He closed his eyes and dropped his head.

Axel's heart was heavy and he doubted he could or even wanted to drag himself out of the shit he was in. It had been a long, long road till this point and he had given into death long before Imogene had arrived, even before the events of last night. He'd always given himself over to the God's, and let his hands be their instruments.

So as he'd done many times before, with his head down, he raised his dirt and blood stained hands to his chest. Silently, he gave himself over to whatever it was the higher powers wanted of him. He let go of everything. The fear. The hope. The thoughts of those he'd come to know and respect in Vegas. His debt to Don Slash. His life. He let it all go and asked for a sign, something, anything, to let him know what God wanted of him.

Without thinking too much about what to do, Axel simply willed himself into action. It was as if a silent voice, or force, was alive within him. The lack of energy turned into a peaceful clarity that spurned into a knowing. His mind was clear, his heart at peace, and his body an instrument of forces quite beyond him. He was conscious, of course, yet he didn't feel entirely his usual self. He felt full, alive, yet calm, and suddenly stood up and began charging toward Romeo and Imogene.

With the sudden burst from Axel, the other two men caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of their little conversation and began yelling as they withdrew their pistols. Cigarette's were discarded, guns drawn, yet Axel kept on. He was single minded, propelled forward by a single purpose. Nothing else captured his mind, his attention, his being, except the will that had him charging Romeo.

As Axel came within a few feet, Romeo had now turned around to see what all the yelling was about, and at that point Axel jumped into the air and flew forward into Romeo with his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Axel practically leaped over Romeo as he shoulder charged him, ending up on the other side of his body, in front of Imogene.

Romeo was completely caught by surprise, yet more so was Axel, who at this point had a ton of adrenaline coursing through his body and nervous system. Without another thought he grabbed Imogene by the arm and began bolting away and towards where Imogene had parked her car, unknowingly, as bullets began firing in their direction from the other two who were still a small distance away.