Just a little idea I had, really. I dunno if I'll write any more chapters or not... I know most of the major plot points I want, but I'm not good at filling in the spaces in between. I mostly just want to get some opinions on it...


Dom stared upward into the night sky as the torrential rain soaked deep into his skin. That is, of course, if one can call the endless void of space "night," or the water from the street cleaning system above him "rain." The colonists still used the terms their ancestors from the forsaken blue planet had, despite living on a hunk of metal and artificial atmosphere. Probably the words just sounded better, or were easier to say, or made them forget that this place wasn't the Earth that had become uninhabitable so long ago.

Turning his head downward, he lit the cigar he had clenched firmly between his teeth, then turned around to gaze at the graffiti-covered brick building he had been leaning against. In here, the man who had given him his most recent job sat, likely plucking chocolates from a tin canister with his fat fingers and letting them roll one by one into his gullet, just like always. Dom chuckled softly to himself as he drew open the rusted iron door leading into the skyscraper, glad that this was going to be the last time he'd have to deal with Sweets.

The inside was considerably cleaner and more well-cared-for than the foul alleyway through which he'd entered. Majestic copper-plated sconces lined the walls, glowing faintly against green diamond patterns along their top halves. Below, the water soaked into Dom's olive-hued trenchcoat dripped onto the black marble floor and pooled along the wood-paneled edges of the wall; above, a set of chandeliers made from crystal yellowed by the light pouring from the bulbs set within them tinkled gently as he began to walk past them.

Before entering the elevator, Dom allowed the waterlogged coat that was weighing him down to drop to the marble floor with a heavy slosh. Briefly, he examined the torso that had collected so many scars over the past forty or so years that had otherwise been bare before he'd shed his sopping duster. The mirror-polished door in front of him slid to the left before he could glance back up to his hard face, inviting him into the elevator. No new injuries, it would seem. Not that he would have cared that much if there were; scars build character, after all.

When the lift's doors opened again, Dom found himself standing mere feet away from the door to Sweets's office. He could see the silhouette of the plump man moving about through the rippled amber glass. Clenching his teeth a little harder on the lit cigar, he knocked on the artificial oak twice, then three times, then twice again. "Come in," a sickly jovial voice commanded from behind the door, recognizing the special series of knocks as coming from one who had accepted a job from him. Turning the brass knob, Dom entered to face him one last time.

Sweets sat in his cracked leather chair, facing away from the door, popping those bonbons as predicted. Hearing the door creak open, he spun toward Dom, laying familiar fat fingers on the green felt upon his desk. "DeLucas, my boy!" he said, his lips curling back into a grin that revealed a mouthful of yellow spotted teeth sunken deep within his black, rotting gums. "I was starting to think you'd never get back!" The rotund male stood up, leaning toward Dom. "So..." he eagerly continued, "where is it?"

Dom reached into the pocket of his green cargo pants, his good eye never leaving Sweets's face. He answered the query by tossing a thick roll of credits onto the desk. "There's your three-thousand credits back. You can count it yourself." The greedy grin that had been on the hefty man's face shifted into disgusted disbelief. Dom's eye narrowed, firing icicles at the ball of fat before him. "No way in hell am I killing a kid."

"D-Dom! Baby! We had a deal!" Sweets sputtered. "You cut out his Magus Gland, and I line your pockets with gold! Besides, who's gonna miss a little gutter rat anyway?"

Dom answered coldly, "The deal is off."

Sweets shook his head. "Such a shame, Dom. Such a shame. I thought we had a good thing going." He quickly produced a revolver and pumped the trigger until an empty click echoed through the office. "You should have done as I said," he snickered sadistically.

As the bullets settled deep into his chest and shoulder, Dom simply looked down at the new holes. Few a few seconds, he stood silent, watching emotionless as blood trickled down his torso. His eye then directed itself back toward Sweets, even icier than before.

"Was that supposed to hurt?" he taunted coolly.

"What the..." Sweets was dumbfounded. In desperation, he flung the gun at Dom, who didn't even react as it bounced harmlessly off his chest. "Y-You're... you're a monster..."

Dom slowly rose his own pistol, aiming carefully by using the katana blade mounted atop it as a guide. "Maybe so... but at least I don't kill the innocent." He fired a single bullet that drilled directly into Sweets's skull, and the tub of lard fell to the floor. "Just other monsters." Dom punched out the neary window and leaped out to the alleyway below, leaving the still-convulsing corpse behind for the dead mobster's flunkies to find.

"Ya killed him?" a young male voice asked from the darkness at the end of the alley. Dom nodded, and the child to whom the voice belonged emerged. "It's cool. He woulda gone after someone else anyway." Small gloved hands attached to a body clad in a grey hooded jacket reached forward, touching the wounds on the more muscular male's body. "Damn, you sure got yourself tore up," the boy said, an impressed grin stretching across his face.

"Just three gunshots and a busted hand. No big deal."

"'No big deal,' my arse." The boy pulled the hood of his jacket off his head to pull his blonde locks back into a ponytail. "Sit down."

"Fox, really, it's-"

"Sit down!"

Dom could help smile. Here he was, no less than thirty years the kid's senior, following his commands obediently like the skinny boy was his father. He sat on a crate, resting his back against the wall, brushing his hand through the grey birds' nest poking through the bandages wrapped tightly around his forehead and the areas where his right ear and eye used to be.

"Good. Now..." Fox slipped the black cotton gloves off and placed his hand over the fresh holes. "This might sting."

"I already told you kid," Dom sighed as a soft sizzling sound seeped from his wounds, "I don't feel pain."

"Whatever." As the teenager removed his hand, the wounds had been healed, leaving only a set of off-colored scars as evidence they'd even existed.

The older man looked over himself while Fox worked on his hand, admiring the new marks like badges of honor."Must be nice, having a Magus Gland in your heart. Not too many people have that."

Fox stood up and nodded. "Yeah. Having Gland Harvesters hunt you to the ends of the colony is a real party and a half." He turned around and began to walk away from the man he'd just healed.

"Hey," Dom called after him, "the hell you think you're going?"

"Home. I live near here, in Gamma Block."

The mercenary stood up and walked after the boy. "I'll guard you until you get there, then. I've got business there."

Fox grinned. "Sure, why not." He looked up at the vast space above him. The "rain" had stopped, leaving a crisp, almost fresh smell in the air. "Just try to keep up!" he shouted as he bolted, his sneakers beating agains the wet pavement.

Dom shook his head. "Damn kid," he scoffed before giving chase.


So, yeah. Any C&C would be greatly appreciated