You're at the wrong place at the wrong time. When you walk into the john you see some guy kneeling on the tiles. There's a gun in his face and a scary son of a bitch attached to it but before you can get the hell out of there you find yourself staring down the barrel of a 9mm as well because the scary fucker's equally scary partner has walked out of one of the stalls (and hasn't washed his hands yet - ew). Dragons, Devils, you've heard these names before and now you can attach faces (and semi-automatics) to them. The man on the floor is bleeding and begging but they're not going to kill him, they're just going to beat the shit out of him as a warning. And you're really worried that they're going to do the same to you, the innocent bystander, so you're kind of relieved when you feel the butt of a Sig P250 crack against the top of your skull, making the scene just
fade to black.
when the barrel's in your mouth
sk_swing's organized crime playground. Not a fic, not a rpg, but something in between. Membership is closed, but feel free to watch. This writing project is very open so please comment. Warnings: violence, non-consensual sex, adult themes.