Hunting For Fulfillment

Richard

Sitting in Chemistry Brandon Griffin was going crazy; it seemed as if time couldn’t go fast enough even though he was willing it to with all his might. Today his dad promised to take him out on a beach in Hawaii. You see Brandon’s dad was a…. well he didn’t know what his dad did for a living, all he knew was rent was always paid, he had almost anything he wanted, at the cost of time with his father, and that he had to move a lot, almost every couple of weeks and this time they just happened to end up on the islands. When asked about his job by others his father, Jack Griffin, would politely reply with he enjoyed traveling then without skipping a beat changed the conversation to something like the Yankees or sports cars. Eventually everyone even Brandon learned to simply not ask.

Brandon was the only 14 year old to be in Chemistry. Though he took all other classes with kids his age, his father insisted he go into Chemistry early and did everything he could to make it happen. No one knew why, but enough money shuts just about everyone right up. Finally the bell rang and though usually in the last to leave, Brandon bolted out of the door just barely remembering to tell his teacher to have a good day which, on any other evening, would have been customary.

Rushing outside Brandon found his dad sitting in the car, an almost brand new Mazda RX7 Twin Turbo. A true work of genius and craftsmanship, personally Brandon would’ve preferred a Porsche Carrera GT or a tricked out Challenger, but that didn’t make this electric blue beauty with custom leather interior and red pin stripping any less impressive or stunning. Hopping in Brandon reminded his dad about the beach. Jack turned smiling showing not only had he remembered, but upon further inspection Brandon realized his father was already dressed for his day in the sun.

“Step ahead of you son.” Jack said with a wink

Without even letting him finish his sentence Brandon interrupted with “Not quite dad.” Showing he too had already dressed. Upon reaching the beach they got out and began to enjoy the sand and the cool breeze that seemed to gently tickle their noses with the soft scent of the ocean. They played for hours, games like Frisbee and volleyball. Brandon missed hanging with his dad and having times like this so, in the rarity of which they occurred; Brandon made the most out of them. After several hours the sun began to set over the horizon casting a beautiful glow across the water that was surprisingly still, it was almost motionless except for one ripple. It took a while for Brandon to make out what it was but he figured it out. It was a man and a gun.

It all happened so fast, the gunshot rang out and Jack was flung off his feet by a huge wound bored into his chest. His blood splattering Brandon’s face and clothes. For a second Brandon was paralyzed in shock, but quickly regained movement and looked to his dad whom had easily lost at least a pint of blood and more draining quickly. It was a miracle Jack was even breathing though it had turned heavy and slow, he was leaving this world all too fast and Brandon wanted him to stay.

Determined to save his father’s life Brandon took his shirt and stuffed it into the wound as he began pulling his dad to the car. His dad helped at first but became so weak he had to be dragged the rest of the way. When he got to the car and Jack was situated Brandon reached across him to buckle him and heard his dad whisper “You, Mom, and Grandpa” upon being questioned on what he meant Jack passed out. Brandon ran to the other side of the car and began to drive.

This was his first time ever being behind the wheel his dad was going to teach him, but Brandon decided it would have to be a quick lesson. He had played a few video games before and so he knew all about gears and pedals, but video games aren’t real life, and he realized he was pressing a little hard on the pedal, and then he recalled that his father was dying in the seat next to him. He pushed the pedal to the floor speeding off to the hospital. No police were in the area which helped a lot because they were busy with the amount of trouble downtown. With such a small police force it took almost all of them to keep the area somewhat stable.

The Mazda sped into the hospital parking lot probably eight to nine minutes after the incident. Poorly parking the car Brandon jumped out unbuckled his dad and carried him to the lounge. By the time the doctor showed up he was barely shaking as his massive blood loss left him almost too weak to even move, the doctor and nurse hauled Jack back on a stretcher and put him in a nearby room.

Brandon seen one doctor leave and shortly after a new doctor showed up. He seemed darker and more menacing; this intrigued Brandon who moved in closer to see what he was doing. The doctor bent down and grabbed a bottle and needle from under a cupboard he took liquid from the bottle into the needle and began heading for Jack. The doctor emptied the whole bottle into Brandon's dad right as a loud bang rang out in another room. The doctor jumped and setting his bottle down he left. Brandon rushed over to see what the doctor was going to use. ‘Arsenic’ Brandon thought back to Chemistry class and recalled that it was an incredibly dangerous poison. Horrified Brandon ran to his father and realized he was dead. Brandon just looked at him and let the pain finally sink in. The door moved and Brandon quickly ran into the shadows. He was good at hiding it, his dad taught him tons of lessons from guns to camouflage and his dad would constantly make him practice and practice till he could shoot a pop can with a magnum from a couple hundred meters accounting for wind direction and speed. However the skills he practiced most were sneaking and archery. He loved the idea of silently killing whole masses of people without getting caught and his agility combined with small stature made it easy to get in tight spaces, Jack always called him his little assassin.

The doctor came back and brought a large black bag with him; at first Brandon was confused until he realized it was a body bag. He had no choice but to sit watching them pack up his father and carry him without Brandon even saying goodbye. Every second of watching seemed to fill him with more hurt, he could feel himself becoming blind with rage but he didn't care. He wanted his dad and he knew that damn doctor killed him when the bullet had done enough and because of it every bastard in this hospital was going to pay.

Brandon knew about the gun his dad kept in the glove box. Returning to his car he opened it and grabbed the silver handle sliding his finger over the all too familiar trigger. Next to where the gun was there was plenty of extra ammo and a silencer. Brandon grabbed all of it and went in the hospital, he started strong by shooting the secretary right in the head, and she dropped like a sack of potatoes. Didn't even have time to cry out. Brandon shut down the cameras and began walking down the halls trying to display his message to those who hurt him. Just for good measure he shot a scurrying mouse and watched its head roll away into the next room. He shot everyone in the rooms doctors, patients, even children. He burned through bullets with an almost inhuman speed. He finally reached the last room and as he was about to head in, the door creaked open and a man was starting to walk out. Brandon dived into the shadows of a nearby room and waited for the man to approach. Instantly Brandon recognized the doctor or rather the man who pretended to be the doctor. It was just some thug, he wasn't supposed to be anywhere near Brandon's father, and he wasn't even supposed to be in the hospital. Furious Brandon took aim and fired straight at his head, 'Click', but nothing happened. The gun was empty however the click did not go unnoticed; the thug stopped, and taking a few steps back, peered into the room. Brandon threw his gun against the opposite wall. The man, taking the bait, went to investigate. He never heard Brandon's approach and never saw Brandon jump as he landed on his back. Brandon laced his arms around the thug's neck and began to hold on tight keeping the thug in a choke hold. Punches rained down around Brandon's face catching him several times in the jaw and brow. It seemed like the hits went on forever but shortly after Brandon folded his arm against the man's throat he stopped, unconscious.

Brandon left the hospital and went across the street to a nearby construction company. He wandered around listening to the sounds of hammers and metal by complete chance his sights landed on an automatic nail gun. Brandon went back knowing how best to present his suffering. In the hospital Brandon dragged out the body of a little girl, an old man, and a nun who had been visiting to bless sick inpatients. He took them all to the front lounge and crucified them all upside down on the wall. Each stood for what was important, and now gone, to him. The old man was for the loss of his father, the young girl for the loss of his innocence, and the nun for the loss of his god. He was never very religious, but he at least accepted that he was up there. Now Brandon knew there was no god because if there was he would have saved his father and Brandon wouldn't be in this mess. Hanging the bodies upside down was to prove his defiance against the lord. He sat on the ground and blood washed onto his shoes and clothing.

He was outside siphoning gas from cars in the lot when a yell for help rang through the halls. The man must have just woken up. Brandon brought his bucket inside and set it next to the door holding the man. Leaving it behind, he entered the room. Brandon smiled at the man whose fear was riddled upon his face. Brandon had laid dead carcasses all around the room to give the man a scare. It worked well because upon entry the man began begging for mercy until the man seen Brandon's youth and began laughing. Brandon sat down in a chair spun backwards from the man. He looked the thug straight in the face and asked, "Who do you work for?"

The man replied "What are you like 10?"

Brandon persisted "Who do you work for?"

Again the man made a smart remark "How 'bout a lollipop instead?"

By this time Brandon was becoming irritated. "I'm going to ask one more time, who do you work for?"

Sighing the man said, "His name is Charlie; he works out on the mainland on the outskirts of Yuma Arizona at a lab known as Endodynamic Industries."

Shocked by the man's response without any form of torture Brandon almost slipped up. "That was easy."

A hollowed laugh emerged from the man. "I told you because you'll never make it out of here alive." With that the man swung with a knife at Brandon's throat just barely missing, then in between swings the thug hacked away at his binds. Brandon went out of the room, grabbed the bucket, and poured its contents all over the man.

Brandon looked the man right in the eyes and said "Burn in hell." He ignited a lighter he'd found on one of the visitors and turned the thug into a living torch. However the man had freed his hands and swung his fist at Brandon's cheek making full contact and burning a hole through part of the skin. Angrily Brandon kicked the chair the man was on up against the wall knocking the knife from his hands. Brandon grabbed the nail gun from earlier and held the gun in his hands as he approached his suspect. He held the trigger till all the nails ran out, leaving the man looking like a pincushion. Brandon grabbed the knife from the ground and held it firmly in his hands and walked up to the flaming body plunging the knife into his chest cutting out the man's heart and showing it to him right as he died. When the fire had burnt out Brandon punched what remained of his enemy, "Fuck you all, I'm going to find and kill every last one of you jerks and you can see how I felt when I died inside."

Brandon got up not exactly proud of his statement, but satisfied all the same. He left for the bathroom beyond pissed. He turned to look at the damage in the mirror. He was horrific; his face was partially melted with blood sliding down around his chin. He looked like a monster, and he started to like it. It would last as a reminder of his cause and corruption.

Sirens rang in the background. The fire must have finally brought their attention to the hospital. Almost methodically Brandon opened the nearest window, crawled through, and jumped out. The fire burnt up most of the evidence and kept most officials attention so Brandon walked away without interruption, though he stuck to the trees anyway.

After walking for a long time Brandon came up on his house, a large white Victorian with an eggshell picket fence and a porch. The inside was laced with several light greens, as it was father's favorite color. The walls, furniture, and even some of the kitchenware was different shades of green, however as Brandon quickly noticed upon entering that the entire house was empty. It had already been cleaned out, but the main problem was that no one knew about his father's death but him and the killers. That meant that the men who shot his father had been in the house, his house. Brandon was enraged and began throwing his fists against the wall inside his father's old room. A rush of pain ran up Brandon's arm as he punched a wall and, instead of dry wall, he hit metal. Brandon searched around for a sign of what he struck. He found nothing but the wall. He began knocking waiting for a hollow sound instead of a metallic ring. When the metal noise died out he broke his fist through the wall as a marker. He did this for the remaining three sides and then broke out the rest of the edge with his shoe. When he was finished all that remained was about a foot of painted wall. Brandon yanked the block out of the socket and dropped it on the ground. The remaining paint fell away and Brandon realized it was a safe equipped with a dial.

Brandon became disappointed as he had no clue what the combination was. He sat down and began trying a number of different combinations until he became bored and decided to go outside and find a branch. With the Branch in hand he swung in full force at the safe. 'Crack!' followed by the sound of broken glass and an almost comical yell from a cat below. Thinking he had broken the safe he looked down and seen the safe was unharmed and instead he had snapped his branch in half. Throwing down the remaining half of the branch Brandon returned to the floor trying to open the safe. His mind wandered to his father and how he was going to find Charlie being as he was on the mainland. His dad's last few words drifted to mind 'You, Mom, and Grandpa.' Why did he pick those words? Instead of something more practical like an 'I love you' or a 'Be safe'. Brandon hardly even knew his mother, and the only time he had ever seen his grandpa was when he gave Jack the safe. The safe! Brandon jumped up reaching for the dial in which he entered his birthday and, not knowing his mother's birthday, he entered the day she left and, also confused on his grandfather's birthday, he entered the day grandpa gave Jack the safe. As the last number clicked into place the safe sprang open with such force it almost cracked the knuckles on Brandon's hand. He reeled back in pain and peered inside; he noticed the money first as there was several stacks of hundred dollar bills which Brandon snatched up. This revealed a gun, a few clips of ammo, and a large amount of notes.

One note sat closer than all the others and looked fresh so he opened it. the first thing Brandon noticed was his name written in the top left corner, this showed that his dad had actually written this letter for him to find. It continued with 'I have something you need to know, if you are reading this letter then you are alone. I know that is hard to accept but no one is on your side. We haven't been here long enough for friends and I was your last living relative. I tried to prepare you for this as best I could. As you may know I was in deep on an undercover mission to exploit the gang Endriago. Lately they have taken to smuggling large amounts of drugs across the border. They are not a gang to be trifled with; if they got me then they are probably after you next. Now I ain't no secret agent or anything super cool like that, but I do work in government and it was my job to bring them down by taking out the kingpin. I'm not quite sure, but I think they figured me out so we were going to leave. I planned to tell you this on our way home, but I guess they caught me off-guard. I am really sorry things ended this way and I hope you forgive me but this had to be done. Either way don't blame yourself. In this safe there is a gun, money, and ammo. It is a pretty safe bet to assume men are coming after you. Be careful. I've taught you what I can the rest is up to you. I love you son, Jack.'

Brandon read the last bit over and over. He'd never hear those words again. They rang in his head like bells bouncing all over his mind. Brandon couldn't take the pain. He sat on the ground and cried. It wasn't fair, he was fourteen. Fourteen! How was he supposed to last against grown men? He recalled something his dad said earlier, 'Man lives on only that which he can comprehend.’ He said that in reference to Brandon deciding to sit on the floor after having difficulty constructing a chair. Brandon understood what he meant; if he wished to survive Brandon would have to do things no one would expect so they couldn't prevent it. He was fourteen, his imagination was practically at it's peak.

Brandon cheered up and stood, heading downstairs and out the back door towards his shed he remembered a room inside that he found when they first moved. His father made it clear he was to never go inside, but now that Jack was gone Brandon went to check it out. The shed was made of cheap sheet metal that somehow lasted through the windy storms without any apparent damage. It was white like the house but had some paint chipping from being set back in the trees and getting struck by falling branches. Some vegetation had grown over the doors that Brandon had to cut away before he could open them. Inside the whole thing seemed covered in dust and webs. He slid a tool chest aside and saw the door. He brushed dirt and dead spiders away from the handle and lifted it up. On any other day he would have been a little freaked out by the spiders, but it was going to take a lot more to faze him after today. Right inside the cellar a silver ladder waited with almost no wear or age at first glance. A faint blue glow emitted from the room below. Climbing in it was almost too dark to see and one of the ladder rungs gave way causing Brandon to fall to the ground. It stung but was nothing serious. "So much for first glance." Brandon muttered massaging his back. He felt around the entrance on the wall till he found what he was looking for, a light switch sat to his left and flipping it on Brandon was able to explore with ease.

Off to his right Brandon noticed a number of critters on shelves, mostly rats, all of whom had perished. A sticker sat on each cage with a timer and a dosage of poison. Brandon took note of the fastest time, assuming it was the strongest, and went in search for the matching bottle. He found a whole shelf of different poisons, but the bottle he was looking for was nowhere to be found. Turning back to find the next strongest he caught a glimpse of a table in the corner of his eye. Upon further inspection he saw a quiver of arrows resting on the table. Brandon rushed over hoping that his dad had taken his bow instead of those who emptied his house. Looking down he seen that they weren't his arrows and the bow nearby wasn't his either. The bow was a deep blue color crackled with black designed much like a compound bow in the sense that it had a wheel on both ends allowing easier pulling while increasing output speed and damage. The arrows were even more astounding; Brandon found a paper of details explaining their design. They were made of a dark wood with a red hue most likely Brazilian cherry, though the paper didn't specify, allowing the stalks to be thin without the cost of durability each feathered with ultra-high-molecular-weight polyethylene to allow smooth aerodynamics without the risk of denting or tears. Yet the most amazing quality of these arrows were the tips, crafted from potassium the tips were thin but sharp using a tri-spaded design instead of the usual singles or quads. They had to be kept in pressurized bags of kerosene mixed with the poison he was looking for earlier wrapped around the top of each arrow preventing reaction with the air or water reducing the risk of fire or explosion respectively.

After reading about his new toys Brandon became eager to try them out. Hoisting an arrow and the bow he ran outside into the trees. In hardly any time Brandon found a pineapple hanging from a tree, aiming at it he shot the arrow piercing the plastic bag and the fruit's skin. The potassium in the arrowhead reacted with the juice creating an explosion igniting the kerosene from the bag leaving little flaming bits of fruit to rain from the sky around him. Shortly after the danger of Brandon's situation sunk in and he became serious. These are not toys t all but serious weapons. If he insisted on acting like a kid he would never reach his goal of revenge. He headed back to the lab with all his childishness fading away. Brandon built a special quiver to house his eight special arrows that remained away from the regular ones he would have to purchase later with the money his father left him. He put the new quiver down next to his other things and continued to look around. There wasn't much more Brandon could use other than another clip of ammo to a gun he didn't have, so that left only the closet marked 'Supplies'. Inside was a random assortment of chemicals and elements including arsenic which was stashed in the bottle as fine powder. Brandon grabbed a bottle of it and dumped as much as he could into a nearby plastic tube so that it was easier to handle and returned the remainder back to the shelf. he grabbed a few more objects off the shelf and looked at them; Windex, toilet bowl cleaner, Goo Gone, and a chemical that he didn't know but was apparently hazardous enough that the container had to be kept in a zip-loc bag, and finally he noticed a silver case. It was the smallest of three in a row kept locked with four latches going against the usual two latches on all the other cases of its kind. Brandon took it outside for a better look in the light where he didn't see any identifying marks to label it as any one chemical. It couldn't be pried open as the latches made it air tight, but since they were only flip-lock latches he didn't have to use anything but his hands to open them anyway.

As the case lifted up a blue light emerged and a large amount of heat burrowed down around Brandon. Making a mental connection Brandon threw the case as far as he could. Unfortunately it landed in a nearby river and the ducks, who were previously swimming near the point the case sunk, tried to make an escape as a geyser of water erupted knocking most of the ducks out of the sky and crushing their wings leaving several of them to drown. “Cesium." Brandon said to himself. He could tell a reaction to water like that almost anywhere. His dad made him memorize cesium specifically as it was his father's favorite element. The worst part was that there were two larger cases back in the lab where Brandon was rushing off to. Packing up all his things Brandon stashed everything in pockets or on his shoulder. He then grabbed the biggest case he could find, the rough equivalent of a mid-sized suitcase. He didn't know how his dad got so much cesium, but he knew in a mass like this it would come in handy. The explosion from his previous mishap did not go unnoticed. Sirens rang in the distance; a crowd of people gathered around and watched dead fish float downstream. More people flocked in as Brandon walked purposefully the opposite direction. He needed a plan and he needed a boat.

It wasn't long after hanging by the docks that he found an old motorboat for sale for a couple hundred dollars. The price seemed a little high as the boat was wooden except for the engine ,and looked old but and worn, but desperation pushed Brandon to pay the man what he asked. Brandon packed all his stuff into a backpack on the boat with the cesium and provisions then hopped in. Yanking on the motor's cord a few times the engine finally sputtered to life and Brandon drifted out to sea.

This part was risky because Brandon was going to have to hitch a ride on a cruise ship headed to the mainland that had departed several hours before him, however in his favor the boat was moving slower than he was, so he knew he could catch up. It took longer than he had expected to find but the giant ship finally loomed into view. Brandon had to swing his ship wide to avoid detection and get ahead of the cruise after which he broke off the motor and began to yell for help. At first he was scared they couldn't hear him and, with his barely thought out plan of kicking off his motor, he would be stranded. But he soon saw someone run to the rail and point in his direction. Suddenly a rush of people ran over and it looked as if the whole side of the ship was covered in people and the boat turned slowly in his direction.

It took a couple of minutes for the boat to hoist him and his luggage aboard. Immediately people crowded him checking to see if he was okay, the burns on his face only making things worse. A few kids screamed at the sight. A woman took him to her seat and began applying different concealers to his face in search of the closest match after which she applied it to the rest of his burns. "Can barely see it there little one," Brandon smiled. Continuing she asked "What brings ya out to these waters?" The question caught him off guard and he stumbled for a response landing on the truth. "I'm going to slaughter several men in the name of my father's death." The woman went drop-jawed for a bit then began to laugh. "Oh the imagination of you kids these days." With that she walked away and Brandon returned to his luggage where the captain generously gave him a room. As Brandon grabbed his things and headed off to his newfound quarters he glanced at the lady that helped him, she was talking hurriedly on the phone and turned when she saw him.

In the room it was fantastic, there was a light blue tint to the walls to give an 'under the sea' theme complimented by soft green and neon orange objects around the room, it even had a fish aquarium off to the side. Brandon loved it here and jumped onto the bed. The blanket had a soft furry feel to it with silk sheets and fish-shaped pillows. He snuggled in and lay on the bed for a few minutes but suddenly felt an urge to go look at the fish, so he slid a chair over and wrapped himself in his blanket as he watched them all swim.

He must have dozed off because it was dark when he woke to his door shutting. He didn't move at first but he saw the reflection in the fish tank of someone behind him. "Who are you." the person stopped their silent advance no doubt in surprise of his realization of their presence.

"Gloria," This time it was Brandon's turn to be surprised as it was the voice of the lady who helped him. "And you must be Brandon am I right?" He nodded. "Well Brandon I made a call to my boss and it seems your father was recently killed by one of ours correct?" again Brandon nodded. "And I assume, in revenge, that you killed my husband too? He was one of the seven heads of the Endriago along with myself. No one can kill a head member of the Endriago clan without a price, and lucky for you the boss said I get to take care of this one 'cause it's personal." With that she lunged at him and pinned him to the ground, however she misjudged his strength so he quickly escaped. As she came at him again he grabbed a lamp and smashed it into her head shattering it to pieces and leaving glass all over as she stumbled to the ground, she started getting up so Brandon went to the bathroom and shut the door.

Gloria ran against the door till it burst open and she rushed in. Brandon grabbed her head using her momentum against her to smash her against the porcelain toilet. The seat broke off and Brandon picked it bringing it down around her like a necklace and pinned her against the wall. He knew he didn't stand a chance unless he constantly kept her off balance. He summed up as much hate as he could and the question sounded almost jagged coming out of his mouth, " Which one of you bastards killed my father?"

She cackled, "You are just full of surprises huh?" Brandon pressed on the seat around her neck. "Alright, don't push that putrid thing towards me do you know what's on these things?" Brandon glared. "Anyways the boss did it. He wanted to make sure the job was done right. My husband was just there to declare his death. No one knew about you till you dragged your father to the car." As he listened Brandon relaxed his pressure on the seat and Gloria used the extra room to her advantage. She slung the seat from her neck and kicked Brandon in the stomach sending him flying against the counter. He watched a toothbrush fall and he picked it up. Standing he gripped it as if it were a dagger pointed down. She laughed at the sight. In the moment she tilted her head back Brandon swung his foot as hard as he could to the back of her leg, this caused her to get down on one knee, he grabbed her by the hair pulling her back he stabbed her through the eye. As she cried out in pain her gripped a bar of soap and beat the brush further into her skull finally piercing her brain. He continued to beat her until the bar broke and all movement ceased. She was no longer of any use. Brandon began to clean up and hid her body in the closet behind the dresser. He would be on the mainland tomorrow; he went to sleep as he began thinking up his next move.

Brandon awoke to the sunlight shining in his eyes and a horn signifying the mainland's close proximity. Brandon peered out his window excited; to be honest he missed the mainland. As the ship came to a stop Brandon was one of the first down the ramp from the boat to land. He got a few strange looks due to his torn and bloody clothes with a few cuts and bruises but he shrugged most of them off. He went on to find a place to stay.

Brandon started with apartments but realized he was only going to be around for one night so he stopped at a medium grade hotel cleverly named the Harle Quinn. It wasn't fancy but there weren't roaches and it allowed him to keep a low head. He was in Arizona and looking on a map he was only a few miles from Yuma meaning a few miles from Endodynamic Industries and Charlie, the next piece in his puzzle.

He opened his backpack and grabbed out his things. He ate his preservatives as if they were going to be stolen if he took a break. When he finished he lay down and went to sleep. Waking up he went back to his bag pulling out his bow and arrows slinging them over his shoulders. Next grabbing his handgun, clips, money, and arsenic he pocketed them and grabbed his suitcase as he turned to leave. Glancing in the mirror he looked like a war machine with the weaponry that surrounded him. Taking his shirt off, he put it back on over his bow and quiver concealing it slightly.

A knock on the door startled him. It was the hotel employee checking to make sure everything was okay claiming he'd heard a ruckus. Brandon replied all was fine. Yet the man insisted on taking a look and wouldn't leave. He had an odd presence about him and kept glancing back as if hinting of danger. Brandon heard a sound behind him and turned to see another man standing a few feet behind away. He reached for his gun and the man at the door dropped. He was stabbed through the back and another man strolled in. They both came at Brandon together. He jumped forward and cocked his pistol shooting three bullets into the man from the door, he didn't fall. Tears in his shirt revealed a bullet proof vest beneath for protection. Brandon aimed for his head but didn't have time to shoot as a knife came down around him tearing at his shoulder. He cried out turning the pistol towards the attacker he shot him first in the arm then in the head. The man slid off the bed from his momentum and pinned Brandon to the ground knocking his gun away. The remaining man used his elbow to suffocate Brandon. Struggling, Brandon began to see black spots but fought for consciousness. He reached in his shirt and grabbed one of the potassium arrows from his quiver and jammed it into the man's neck. In a second the man's head blew sideways only staying attached by a few threads. He rolled over unmoving. Brandon was surprised at the power one of the arrows had. He almost didn't burrow it deep enough and a shard about hit him but overall he was unscathed. Getting up Brandon retrieved his handgun reloaded and left.

The first thing he had to do was get a change of clothes. He entered the first store he found. It was mostly dark clothing, which was fine by Brandon as he planned to stick to the shadows. He grabbed a hoodie, an overcoat, a cheap t-shirt, and some faded blue jeans that weren't tight enough to restrict movement, but not so loose as to risk getting caught or falling off. He purchased them and changed feeling much less open to the world. Walking out to the highway it took a while for Brandon to find a ride because of his appearance, but finally a truck driver pulled over. Brandon ran over and started getting in only to realize the driver had a shotgun pointed right at his head. Brandon froze "What chu' doin' out here boy?"

"I need a ride to Endodynamic Industries in Yuma." The driver sat there for a while looking at him then lowered the gun.

"What’s a kid like you want out at a place like that fo'?"

"I have business with a worker out there."

"A'ight get in, but if anyone asks I ain't seen ya." Brandon got in after that and they drove off. It wasn't long before they pulled up to the giant building. It was almost intimidating but Brandon stood firm and waited for the driver to stop. "Good luck kid." The man, whose name turned out to be Jack, left Brandon stung a little at the thought of his father. Brandon gave the man a few hundreds for his kindness and left.

He stood at the front door realizing there was no turning back. A bus came up and stopped near him right before a rush of people emerged behind him. Pushed by the force of the crowd Brandon went inside. He entered the plant and seen a tour was about to commence. He decided to use this to scope out the place. He travelled with the group learning all kinds of facts, such as that the building was divided into three sections. The first a lab where they designed chemicals for experimentation usually on animals. The second a sort of bug farming corporation where they kept several different insects including fire ants whom in masses could eat babies and small children alive. The third section was the factory in which they made high value car parts on an assembly line. Walking down the aisles the tour guide approached a worker on the end. "This here's Charlie, one of our finest workers."

Charlie was thin and lanky so Brandon wondered how he became a head at all. Charlie flashed a smile to the group till he caught sight of Brandon and it faded. He went back to work and Brandon followed the tour to the factory door, but stayed behind and shut the door when they left. He returned to Charlie "You are one of them aren't you." It was more of a statement than a question.

Charlie replied without looking up. "I knew you'd come for me," He smiled "I have the answers you are looking for."

"Then this won't last long."

"Why are you risking your life Brandon? He's not coming back even if you manage to kill all of us."

"I know that but that doesn't let you off the hook for taking away all I had left."

Charlie pondered this and nodded. "Fair enough. You've already taken two heads from our Gang Gloria and Alexander. That leaves myself, Tyson, Jamal, and Henry. I'm Here, Tyson and Jamal work out on construction in Fresno, and Henry is headed to Las Vegas for a few days to go gambling at the Bellagio."

"Gloria said there were seven of you." Charlie Nodded "You only listed six."

"That's because she also counted the king pin, Richard, but I have not been gifted with his location. He is the boss and he runs the show."

Brandon made a mental note to find that out before he killed the other three. "Why are you helping me?"

Charlie laughed. "Helping! You think you are the first to make it this far? I tell ya you're definitely the youngest." With that Charlie blind-sided Brandon with a pipe sending him sprawling onto a conveyor belt. Charlie jumped on and continued to bring the pipe down around Brandon pounding on his arms. Brandon did the best he could to block the damage, but a few escaped cracking bones. Up ahead a press crashed down bending the metal into a flattened state. Brandon took the best shot he could and kicked Charlie square in the groin. He cradled and Brandon was on top this time pinning him down. He hit Charlie in the face and gut but as he reared back to punch him again the press came down on Charlie's head. Blood sprayed out across the floor and Brandon got down. Looking up he noticed that the entire tour had watched the fight and its conclusion. Some horrified by the outcome others wanting more. Security burst through the door so he took Charlie's keys and ran out back. Brandon pressed the unlock button over and over listening to the horn until he found it. Charlie drove a rather nice Mercedes SLR McLaren. They must be paid well because it ran like a dream with a burnt orange finish, leather interior, and an automatic start. Brandon got in and slammed on the gas the car obeyed and sped off leaving nothing but dust. He was heading to the great city of lights, Vegas.

With the car's speed Brandon made it to the highway without much interference on which he slowed down. He needed to ditch his car, but he not before he made it to Nevada. As soon as he got into Vegas he stopped the car, found a man on the road, gave him the keys with a pat on the back, and left. He was going to walk the rest of the way. He could see the Bellagio in the distance and this way he could stick to the shadows. It was almost nightfall by the time he reached the casino. He tried to go inside but the bouncer at the door stopped him. "No minors."

"But my dad is in there." Brandon lied.

"No minors." The man stood firm. Brandon did not dare to try and get past him. His outfit would give him away and it would only lead to more trouble. Brandon was forced to sit out in the alley nearby. It must've been around 10:15 when a door on the side of the casino burst open and a man was thrown out.

"Damn it Henry. We told you to follow the rules. You can't beat the boss at his own game."

"Get your hands off me you rent-a-thugs." With that one of the men punched him square in the face sending him sprawling into the wall. He fell. "Can I at least get another beer before I go?"

The man groaned and went inside. Brandon approached Henry and was debating how to kill him when the other man came back outside. He looked at Brandon and gave him the beer. "Take this to Henry and try to knock some sense into him will ya."

Brandon nodded and walked forward to his next target. The man shut the door and left. Brandon opened the beer and pulled out his arsenic. He added all of it to the drink and spoke to the crumpled bum on the ground. "Henry?" He nodded. "I'm Brandon and the Endriagos killed my father." With that Henry snapped into consciousness "I'll make you a deal. I'll give you this beer if you answer all my questions."

Henry shoved Brandon and took the beer. "I don't answer to kids." Henry downed the entire drink in a single chug. He turned on Brandon and broke the bottle over a dumpster approaching with the sharpened end. He began walking closer but stopped as the poison began kicking in. "What did you do to me boy?"

"Arsenic." Brandon said with a smile. Henry's face turned red and he rushed at Brandon but dropped short, dead. Brandon still had no clue where Richard was, but at least one more head was down. The only leads he had left were in Fresno California. Brandon called a taxi and pointed him to in the right direction. Though the driver at first unwilling, ended his argument shortly after Brandon flashed his money.

The driving was slow and quiet but this gave Brandon time to think how he was going to take down the boss and the remaining two heads. No doubt Richard would have men all over the premises but Jamal and Tyson, being construction workers, should be easy to single out. Brandon slept in the taxi the rest of the way. The driver woke him when they arrived. Brandon paid him and offered more money to take him to the primary construction company of the town. Upon reaching it Brandon paid the man a large tip and went inside listening to the tires squeal as the taxi did a U-turn back towards Vegas.

A blonde-haired receptionist sat at the desk she wore a white button top and a tan skirt. Glasses sat high on her nose allowing her sky blue eyes to feel friendly yet inquisitive. A name tag on her desk said 'Sherry Gates'. Brandon approached her. "Roses are red, violets are blue, if I need help, do I talk to you?”

Sherry laughed and her lengthy straight hair seemed to cradle her face. "You're a cute little one aren't ya."

She must not have been able to see his face because most of the concealer had worn off. "Thank you ma'am" Brandon said with a smile on his face.

"And so mannerly too. How may I be of assistance?"

"I need to find some friends of my dad."

"Names?"

"Tyson and Jamal."

"Well without last names my ability to help is limited but," She dragged on the u while she pressed some keys. "Aha I think I found the gentlemen you're looking for. They are out on the site by the old church. That's about six blocks that way." She pointed in their direction and turned back to Brandon at which point she must have seen his burn because the smile was replaced by a sad longing look and after that she began to avoid eye contact with him and Brandon took the hint. He left the building and headed in the direction she had shown him and saw the scaffolding around the huge metal structure.

Brandon reached the site and sat down out of the way. Seeing other kids running around he figured he could remain here undisturbed. He waited patiently for the main portion of workers to leave. Finally the last few were heading out by which time Brandon had played several games of tic-tac-toe with himself. He jumped up and tapped the closest worker. "Yeah kiddo?" The man inquired.

"What are you guys building here?"

"A butchery, and a nice one at that though I don't know why they want it so big."

A voice called from a car in the street. "Hey Bill hurry up!"

"One sec!" The man called back and began to leave.

"Wait! Do you know where I can find Tyson and Jamal?"

The man pointed "Inside double checking our work 'fore they head home. Them two brothers are all that's in there. Ya can't miss 'em"

"Thanks and drive safe!" Brandon shouted as he grabbed his things and headed inside. When he got to the entrance the doors were not installed allowing Brandon to get in unnoticed.

The first man he saw was likely Tyson, a large African-American built like a truck. He didn't seem to have an ounce of fat on him and his muscle shown clearly through his light blue shirt making it appear as if he were to tear out of it any second. Jamal was nowhere to be seen so Brandon retrieved his bow as quiet as possible. He couldn't take this monstrous man in hand-to-hand so he decided on surprise. Pulling out two of his potassium arrows he drew both of them together. Angling them slightly different directions he fired. He had only practiced this shot a few times and feared for it's success. One hit the back of the knee while the other struck slightly lower in the high calf. Either way they both delivered the desired effect and blew off Tyson's legs in one swift motion. He dropped and yelled in pain for Jamal.

Brandon hid up on some scaffolding and Jamal appeared around the corner seeing his brother Tyson bleeding on the ground. He began to look for the attacker. However Brandon was above him grabbing a chain and a crane hook. Brandon wrapped the chain around the hook and jumped. He came down a little fast, but managed to catch Jamal by surprise wrapping the chain around his neck in a slipknot and released. The hook shot back up tightening the chain around Jamal's neck yanking him off the ground. He bounced up and dropped back down dead after the force of the drop broke his neck.

Brandon returned to Tyson who was weak from the blood loss but still had a while before death. Brandon grabbed a sheet of wood and laid it on the ground with a creeper underneath. He hauled Tyson onto the board and tied him down. Tyson didn't put up much of a fight as he was trying to stay awake. Brandon shook him a few times to bring him back to consciousness while sliding him onto a table saw. Brandon got in front of Tyson. "Where's Richard?" Tyson muttered an inaudible response. "Louder!" Brandon commanded.

Tyson spoke up "You blew off my legs man," he whimpered. "and Jamal, oh man Jamal. Mom's going to be pissed." As grown men it was clear they weren't living with their mother. Tyson seemed to begin fading as he started to ramble on about zebras flying around his head calling him names and an elephant dancing in the corner.

Brandon shook him hard this time. "Tell me where Richard is." digging his nails into Tyson's cheek

"Alright, Alright, no more games just take it easy." all the whimpering and mindlessness had faded after he had given up the act. "He's upstate in Eureka; he runs the ports up there for easy access to the sea. That's all I know now send me on with my brother." Having received the information he was looking for Brandon carried out the request. Brandon laid him down and slid the edge of the board to the end of the saw and turned it on. The blade pulled the wood forward on its own and Brandon watched as the saw started in on Tyson's skull. A pool of blood washed up by Brandon's shoes. About halfway through the saw stopped moving probably jammed on the carcass. That was all the signal Brandon needed. He walked out into the night. It all came down to this.

Brandon sat at an old scrap yard huddled inside an abandoned car. It was safer than most places and gave him a chance to check his resources. He knew this was a big company. He had to look professional and discreet. He had his remaining arrows which he decided not to carry as they would give him away before he even got close. He still had his case of cesium, a handgun with two clips of ammo, and a couple thousand dollars.

At sunrise Brandon went to a nearby mall and shopped around. He bought a white suit with a maroon tie and pointed shoes, a set of three knives, and a water jug filled to the brim. He went around back to and used the water jug to take a cheap version of a shower. Feeling cleaner than before he dressed in his suit and reentered the mall where he stopped by a make-up kiosk and had the lady running it fix his face again concealing the burns, cuts, bashes, and bruises surrounding the visible parts of his body. After all this Brandon glanced in the mirror. He looked like a new man, seeming older then he was and far better dressed. In all honesty he was a new man. Even if he couldn't pull of this job he did something hardly any other fourteen year old could have done. Thinking back on it the power of hate and rage pushed him forward, he even embraced it, but after all his work it was beginning to fade. One more mark and he was done, he could do this. He left the bathroom and headed out of the mall. First things first he had to find a ride. He called a taxi but instead a black SUV rolled up. Two pairs of hands reached out and grabbed him pulling him inside. Panicked Brandon kicked one of the men away and he yelled "Who are you people?"

"Look kid calm down were on your side. We know you've been wiping out the heads of the Endriago clan. Killing all six heads is impressive considering your age and doing it all single-handedly, but going against Richard is suicide. He has his building locked down like a maximum security prison."

Brandon stopped fighting against the men that grabbed him. He looked around and recognized their faces. One was the captain from the cruise he came to the mainland on, another was Bill from the construction site, and Sherry the receptionist who avoided eye contact. "You guys were around me all along and didn't bother to help?"

"We wanted to see what you were capable of but we didn't expect you to hunt Richard or we would have stopped you."

"Well it's too late now. I'm going to kill Richard. He is the reason my father is gone so he's going to pay the most."

The others looked concerned "Are you sure about this Brandon? You are just a kid and these men won't hesitate to kill you."

Brandon stood firm "I know but I have to try."

Bill and the captain both sighed. They nodded to each other. The receptionist chimed in. "You can't possibly be considering letting him go. Francis he'll be killed!"

"The boy wants to go Sherry, what is our right as strangers to stop him?"

"It doesn't matter about right its reason. He's an incompetent little bo..."

"Sherry!" The captain's voice was overpowering and even the driver swerved in surprise. "You forget this boy killed two goons and six heads of one of the most up and coming gangs of the generation." Sherry sat back submitting. The captain, Francis, Turned his attention back to Brandon. "At least let us help you, we can get you inside past the goons and could assist in protecting you." Brandon nodded he needed all the help he could get. They arrived in Eureka and Francis began relaying the plan to the group. They stayed the night in a hotel running over strategies and layouts till the group got bored and began playing board games. It was a good way to wind down from all the stress Brandon had built over the last few days. Tomorrow would be the first Christmas he ever had to spend alone. But tonight he had friends and looking around he felt like he had more of a family now then he had in eight years. His father was just too busy with work. So he made the most out of tonight and felt at home.

Upon arriving at the ports Brandon was amazed at the beauty of the building it was all white on the outside except for the five spire roof which was scaled and brown along with two small wavy strips of blue and the occasional spoked wheel from old-fashioned ships. Brandon was told to get out first while wearing deep black shades to intensify his pre-selected suit. With a snap of his fingers Francis and Bill stepped out of the car in all black suits coming to stand on either side of Brandon. No emotion was on either of the trio's faces . The two men stationed at the door stood straight and readied their weapons. Before anyone made another move Sherry stepped out of the car. She too was dressed all in black but wore a grey belt around her waist emphasizing her figure. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun and she had applied a hint of red lipstick for a sharp appearance. Bearing a clipboard she walked up to the men with the others and told them that if either of them even laid a finger on her client they were done for. The men looked at each other for a second and stepped aside allowing access deciding not to risk their jobs. The group of four moved inside and the guards returned to their stations.

Brandon had to walk down a long hallway to get to the receptionist but when he entered the main room it made the outside look less impressive compared to the interior. The walls were mint green with heavy browns complimenting the hues around the lounge as tables and chairs. A glass table sat next to an emerald green wrap-around couch and a little lamp made from a miniature lighthouse. Brandon loved it here and he felt at ease; however he couldn't enjoy it for long as he heard shouts coming down the hall. It appeared as if their cover was blown. Several men came running with handguns down the hall towards the crew and Brandon noticed a few bore Uzis as well. Good for them. Bad for Us. Brandon was thrown aside by Bill whom took a position on the left side of the entrance along with Francis on the right and began shooting down the hall at the mob that hid in between doorways for protection while raining bullets on the two men. "Go!” Bill yelled.

Brandon standing he went to the receptionist. "Where is Mr. Richard's office?"

She turned Brandon's way and glared "Why should I tell you?"

"Because I am carrying his money and am currently being chased. If I lose this were both in trouble."

The receptionist sighed. "He's down the hall third door on your right. Don't touch anything I don't want your germs all over." She continued to mumble under her breath.

Brandon walked down the hall ignoring her rude comments and finding the door she told him about. Outside stood two guards he began to walk past but they stopped him. "Get out of my way." Brandon said in obvious irritation. He had come too far to let two more goons stop him.

"We were told to guard this door at all times from any and every single person that tries to enter this room."

"Well then I'll give you gentlemen one last chance to step aside or I kill you." Both men laughed and one pulled out a gun Brandon hit the gun back and all three got in a quick fight that ended with Brandon thrown against the wall. The man pulled on his gun causing a bullet from his clip to slide into the chamber of his gun and pointed the barrel straight at Brandon's head. Brandon stared the man right in the eyes and smiled. "You don't got the balls." At this the man pulled his forefinger tight and the gun clicked firing straight into Brandon's head. Nothing happened. The man realized that the clip from his gun was out. The other goon hit the man up the head calling him an idiot and reaching for his own gun. It wasn't until he heard the familiar click that they both realized what had happened. Brandon had withdrawn the clip from the first man's gun and then stolen the other man's gun from his side. Brandon smiled as both men watched him load a bullet into the chamber put it right between the first's eyes and fired. This time it worked a bullet burrowed into the man's head causing his head to crack against the wall. He dropped dead. The second stood aside allowing Brandon entrance to the room behind him. Brandon walked forward and stopped in the door way. He turned to the man with a smile on his face. The man returned his smile and dropping his expression Brandon said "You're fired." and without even offering a chance to run Brandon shot a bullet underneath his jaw. The man dropped and Brandon walked into the office.

A deep voice spoke and Brandon felt like he could almost recognize it but couldn't place it. "Come in. I've been expecting you."

Brandon did as told and opted to sit down in the nearest chair. It was a green cushioned chair much like that of a chair from inside a barber shop as it only bore one leg. Comfortable Brandon acknowledged the man and intentionally showed disrespect. His cover was already blown so he had no reason to hide or be kind. "Wow you must be old."

The man laughed. "And why is that?"

"Because that cliché is almost as old as Abe Lincoln."

Another laugh bellowed. "Oh Brandon you arrogance cracks me up."

Brandon was stunned. "How do you know my name?"

"Come now Brandon. Don't be foolish I've known you your whole damn life."

Suddenly it all clicked. The murder of his father. The long goose chase. The training. and now Brandon took in just why he was so comfortable in the office of the one man he hated more than any other. This place was just like home, not the home in the hotel yesterday but his real home. "You never died. Did you." He wasn't asking he was telling. There was no question about it. A slow clap emanated from across the desk as the man in front of Brandon spun slowly around in the chair. Before him was the face of the one man Brandon could never outsmart. The very face of his father.

"It's good to see ya. Son." Jack said with open arms. Yet Brandon remained still his mind was racing nothing made sense as his world began falling apart around him. Jack eventually got the hint and put his arms down. "Well, now that you're here I have a proposition for you. I will give you a large sum of money right now to join my company at my side. You have demonstrated great skill in several areas that I can use. At just fourteen you managed to take down some of the finest members in the Endriago Clan. You could be great!"

"Why?" Was all Brandon could ask. "Why'd you leave me alone? Why'd you leave me to die?"

"I didn't leave you to die; I trained you in what you needed to survive. It was time to see if you were ready and you are which is why I want you to stay here with me and help keep the company going."

"You pretended to die! I had to sit alone and deal with the loss of my best friend while being chased by your thugs. You didn't prepare me for shit."

"Watch your mouth young man. There is no need for such vulgar words. Now I am sorry that you felt abandoned but I did my best to make sure no harm came to you until you killed Alexander."

"So after that it was okay to take me out?" Brandon could feel his fury beginning to rise back up in his chest.

"Brandon you murdered an entire hospital and crucified three people. If you brought that reputation here my business would have dropped."

"So you chose to kill me to save your business?" Brandon had heard enough.

"No. I simply let my fellow heads put you to the test you had to be worth value if you wished to take over. I had no intention of letting you get killed and as you can see I was right not to worry."

Brandon thought on this and started to understand why he did everything. "So what exactly do you do for work?"

Jack sat and thought on the question pondering the best way to answer. "Well in all honesty I smuggle drugs in and out of the country and distribute them across America. The money is good and being next to the ports makes it easy."

Brandon sat quietly thinking on the deal "How much do I get to start?" Jack pulled out a silver case and set it on the table. It was about the equivalent of a medium-sized suitcase. It had four latches which normally would have been strange but it appeared it was his father's preference. Opening all four a massive amount of money was displayed in front of Brandon.

Jack leaned back smiling at his son's response "How's forty million dollars sound?"

Brandon pulled it off the table and held it in his hands. The things he could do with this kind of money. He pulled a small stack of hundreds out and pocketed it then shut the remainder inside the case and set it on the floor. "Dad, why is your clan symbol a hydra?"

His dad was caught a little off guard by the unprompted question. "Because I like the idea that no matter how many heads are cut off more grow in their places that are stronger and wiser. An almost invincible beast with me at its center."

Brandon sat forward and looked his dad in the face. They made eye contact and Brandon glared trying to get past the outer shell to see the man inside. Brandon grabbed the silver case and put it on the table. All he said was "I decline." he then stood and began to walk away.

"Brandon. If you chose to decline then I am displeased, but that doesn't mean I will allow you to walk out of here with those hundreds in your pocket." Brandon stopped dead in his tracks. He reached in his pocket grabbed out the hundreds and threw them on the table. "Face it Brandon, you can never out smart me. I'm your father. I'll always be one step ahead. Now get out of my sight." Jack began to laugh as Brandon walked out hurt that his father, the man Brandon had looked up to all his life, was nothing more than a jerk.

Brandon slammed the door shut and walked to the front desk. He acted as feverish as he could. "Quick there is a fire in Richard's office!" The receptionist who had been previously glaring at him grabbed a nearby bucket and ran off in Jack's direction. "Bill, Sherry, Fran...." Francis lay on the ground by the hall blood pouring from his skull due to the lucky shot of a careless thug. Brandon was upset by his passing but there was no time to waste they had to get out now. Brandon ran over and grabbed Francis' arms while Bill grabbed his legs and the group of four all left the building through a hole that Sherry had cut while Brandon was with his father. Brandon made a decision in there and he couldn't go back. As he walked Brandon recalled the story of Hercules in which to kill a hydra Hercules had to first cut all of its mortal heads and then remove the final immortal head from the body it all made sense to Brandon as he stepped further and further away.

Jack sat in his office laughing until his son Brandon shut the door. He wished his son would have stayed to take over as a father son business but Jack could make do with other children I mean come on who wouldn't want a dad with millions of dollars? Brandon wouldn't. The thought stung Jack more then he would have liked. He was raised that money was everything. Brandon just didn't agree. It was Christmas and both he and Brandon were alone they didn't even give each other presents. Jack needed to distract himself so he opted to count his money to make sure Brandon didn't cheat him. He unlocked the four latches and pulled up. As the case lifted a blue light emerged and a large amount of heat burrowed down around Jack as a little note fell out Merry Christmas, Brandon. The door to Jack's office burst open as he opened the case all the way he was focused on his secretary who ran in and, seeing the case, screamed fire. Confused Jack looked down and noticed the contents for the first time. Jack was proud seeing the contents of the case. His son had finally beaten him at his own game. Jack knew Brandon was going to be just fine, for in the case there was no money but rather, "Cesium, my favorite." Jack smiled leaning back right as his secretary dumped the bucket of water onto the case.

Brandon was heading to the car when he heard it. A loud explosion erupted from behind him as the top half of the building blew to shreds. The secretary had done her job perfectly. Brandon smiled as he watched Jack's Head bounce off the ground and roll in front of him. Brandon picked it up and looked at it. Even though this may be his father he would always be Richard to Brandon. Not because changing the name was easier to handle or reduced his pain, and not because Brandon refused to accept who his father was but Brandon knew Jack was better than this man he had become. And though Brandon thought on it for a long time Richard seemed to fit this man the best. This man was a warning. A limitation on what Brandon was never to become. He took Richard's head with him and put it in a case while he kept his father in his heart. When questioned why he kept a head in his living room Brandon always replied the way he felt his father would have, simply explaining to the inquirer that the man in that case was a real Dick then then without skipping a beat changed the conversation to something like the Yankees or sports cars.

- Mitchell A. Mofle

- Feb. 20th, 2013

Hunting For Fulfillment

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Untitled

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

One and only

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Richard

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Puzzle

Unknown

My Drawing

Please