On a dark and dreary, stormy night a man was standing outside a rundown bar, his eyes on the entrance. The bar was a good place to fulfill his mission, but it also didn't need any more of his money. Deep down he knew he shouldn't be here. His name was Seth. He was a man in his mid forties with a face full of stubble and a hunchback. He wore a dirty Santa outfit and sipped coffee from a thermos. He was there to take out a member of the mafia, his target, his mark, to get what he needed which had become his devious and dark thrill. His job was to keep the mafia in line so that the mafia wouldn't control the city. He'd earned most of his money by running illegal gambling establishments and for the last few years he had been doing whatever he could to make the mafia pay him.
He had been doing it for so long that he had begun to believe that he had earned something from it. A sense of belongingness maybe, but not without a price of course. He worked the streets but there was a group of people much more powerful than him that sought to take him out, to keep their organization in good standing. These people were very strategic and they'd tracked him down to this bar.
He was standing outside the bar because the mafia had sent out a hit on him. He couldn't go into the bar because he didn't want to risk running into the person that was there to kill him. The mafia had their own people and they didn't care who they sent out to do their dirty work. They sent out their men and women because they enjoyed doing it. He knew what he was signing up for as soon as he signed up with the mafia, but he also knew that it was a game, a competition between the mafia and the police, the city. Both of them were crime fighting forces and when the police made an arrest, it was the mafia who got hit. But he was a free agent and he was free to work out a deal with whomever he wanted. And because of this he had worked with the mafia, a secret alliance that working side by side made for a good deal. After all, keeping both sides on your side was a good thing.
He had done all of this before and he knew what he was doing. He knew that he would eventually make it out of this one alive. He knew that the mafia would keep him alive wile they could make money out of him. Seth was a bookmaker, a gambler, a man who helped others make bets and gave both the winner and loser the opportunity to do something good. He was a strip club owner with a strong belief that no matter what, there should be winners and losers.
He had been trained for this. Years before someone had given him a glass body, one that would help him keep going until he accomplished his goal. He didn't have a clue what that goal was and he didn't care either. He'd once told his wife and his daughter that he was going to be a hero some day and they accepted that as truth. He was going to be a hero some day, he simply had to be patient.
He was known in the streets as someone who had helped them, the street gang. He had worked with the mafia, becoming their bookie, a wager setter. He was someone who was not fazed by the special effects of the mafia, but he was a man who was afraid of almost everyone. He knew that there were lots of people who wanted him to stop and he wanted to stop as well. He'd killed before and he'd taken part in dirty business and he'd ruined people's lives. But what he didn't understand was why.
