Birth

665 Flatbush avenue, at a certain run down bar.

Currently, 6 men were drinking at the wooden counter of the bar, wearing leather jackets, some of which were sleeveless.

There were no other customers here as this was the hangout place of a biker gang. It just so happened that the bar itsel had the same name as the aforementioned gang.

The Dogs of Hell.

This was their main hideout and the place where the bigger part of their forces in New York were located.

Snake, having taken a sip of his beer, turned to ask Jack how his mission went.

"Yo, Jack, how was your mission to the dinner down the street?"

Jack replied, cigar in hand, "Smooth man, smooth. We hit up that dinner, and while at first the owner tried to play tough with us, he coughed up the cash quickly after 2 broken plates."

"Shit man, that's lucky as all hell. Had any trouble besides that?"

"Nah, his daughter is going to college, so he absolutely couldn't afford something happening to his income," getting up until here, a wicked smile was on Jack's face, "or to his precious daughter." 

"Hook, lucky." 

"What about you crashing the car shop?" 

Getting angry, Snake slammed his hand against the table. 

"The bastard was annoying as shit to deal with. He first tried to lower the price of the tax, then he tried to call the cops on us. As revenge we completely demolished 3 of his cars, putting him in a massive loss having to fix em. After that we got the money, since he didn't want us to bang up the other cars. "

" Good job handling that annoying bastard. Wanna go crash the pawn shop near the bridge? Heard that the owner actually hides some interesting stuff. " Jack asked.

"Hmmm... Sure. Got jack shit to do for now."

"But let's keep partying for now, we can raid the place, or places, later. Heard there's a new jewellery store that opened in the middle of Brooklyn. if we decide to raid multiple people today the owner is a good target. Not just cause shes loaded as all hell obviously. "

" Oh, that place? Didn't it fall under Vipers jurisdiction. "Snake asked, surprised.

" Yea, but they got wiped out a few days ago. So that territory is up for grabs for everyone, meaning we're going to try placing one of our own branches there, strengthening our presence in New York."

"Wow, finally we're expanding. Can't wait to chase the Irish bastards away, so we drink to that. Cheers!" snake said, raising a toast. 

"Cheers!"

Clink! 

Like that, they kept drinking and enjoying the spoils of their labour. Around 5PM however, something happened. 

Looking at the run down bar that was called the Dogs Of Hell, i kinda guessed that they were located here... I shouldve just asked for the bars place instead of paying for info, damn it. 

Anyways, to get my costume ready, I headed inside of one apartment building next to it. More specifically the back door. 

Right now, I was wearing comfortable red sneakers, blue jeans and a brown letterman jacket. Pulling out the rooster mask and putting it on, I also pulled out my Anaconda. I was ready to to introduce this world to 'Jacket'. 

Seeing as it was only 5PM, that meant the shooting would be done in broad daylight. Somewhat excited, I left this building and started heading towards the bar. 

Yet not even 4 steps outside the door, a man with a beard and a leather biker jacket, started walking towards me. 

"Yo, costume freak, wanna lend me some money. I promise I won't break your legs if you do." 

Having walked all the way in front of me, he was a whole head shorter than me, yet he still looked unperturbed by the size difference. 

It was probably the metal pipe in his hand that boosted his confidence to hell and back. 

"You listening you son of a bitch? If I ask for money you han-HMHHMM?"

Grabbing the man and covering his mouth, I pulled him back into the building. All the while, he was flailing his limbs trying to break free from my grasp, yet without too much of an issue I held him down. 

Finally, with my gloved hands I broke his neck, the sounds of the passing cars having buried the final struggles of his life. 

One down. 

Grabbing the metal pipe, Jacket made his way to the bar, wanting to do the tried and true method of crashing the front door. 

However, he noticed a window at the height of 2 meters that he could barely fit through. 

Jumping up and gently pulling himself through the window, he found himself inside of a... Very run down restroom. 

Walking carefully to the door, he tried peeking through the lock, into the bar. 

Seeing a few men standing in front of a counter, drinking, he decided to wait inside a cabin for 5 minutes before jumping out. Maybe he could pick off some stragglers. 

As seconds passed by, the sound of footsteps resounded from outside the restroom. As the door to the restroom opened, the sound of footsteps echoed and stopped at the urinal. 

Getting out of the cabin, slowly sneaking up to the man, Jacket raised the metal pipe and brought it down, having withheld roughly 30% of his strength. 

With one resounding... 

Thock

The 110 Kilo man started falling to the ground. Grabbing him with one hand, Jacket dragged him into one of the stalls. 

CRACK

Two down, he thought while holding the snapped neck of the gang member. 

Minutes later, two more people walked in, both drunk as they were wobbling, using each other for support. 

"Hey Snake," said one of the men, "What do you think we hit up the daughter of the restaurants owner. HICK." 

"Sure Jack, let's force her by threatening to visit her dad's sto-" 

CRASH

As both of them turned around towards the source of the noise, a man with a rooster mask had shot out of the closed cabin, sending splinters flying. 

Not even having time to react, Jack's entire head was caved in with a metal pipe. 

Snake, seeing the exploded head and the blood flying everywhere, wanted to turn around and start running. 

BANG! 

His head, or whatever was left of it after a .50 Action Express passed through it, fell to the ground with his lifeless body. 

The rooster masked man was holding a stainless steel Desert Eagle, the golden patterns adorning its body giving it a truly regal feeling. The seemingly magical glow on the weapon further added another layer to its mystery.

Jacket, having killed these two in such a loud manner approached the door, the corpse of Snake in his hand.

Full force, the corpse was thrown against the door, sending the worn down door along with its hinges flying to the other room.

As soon as it was dislodged, bullets whizzed in through the door, peppering the tiles on the opposite wall, sending their shards flying everywhere.

Seconds later, three men rushed into the room, ready to open fire at anything that moved, be it friend or foe.

Yet they found nothing.

"Nobody is in the bathroom? But who did this to Snake, Jack... And Peter." looking at the last body he saw inside of a cabin, the man was confused.

As if to answer his question, gunshot after gunshot started ringing outside, which was shortly followed by the panicked screams of civilians.

Running back outside the restroom, he saw dozens of bloody bullet holes riddling the windows. As for whose blood it was, it was the blood of those on guard shift right now.

Suddenly, the door started shaking, someone trying to open it from outside in a panic.

10 guns all were suddenly aimed at the door. Some among them were pistols, and others yet were rifles.

Three seconds later, one of the people on guard duty finally managed to open, limping in. Lowering the guns, they were about to ask what happened outside. 

Seeing the other family members, he finally thought he was safe...

BANG!

A pistol shot from behind dispatched the poor fellow, a headless body added to the kill count of today.

The man with the rooster mask, pistol in hand, shot 5 times within that split second, dispatching another five people for good.

Turning and disappearing left of the door, gunshots once more flew where he had been, some of them hitting the cars in front of the bar.

"Watch the door, well ambush him at the window if he co-" the man in charge of this group of dogs, Bear, wanted to say that. 

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Yet more gunshots started sounding out, breaking through the darkened windows, killing gang member after gang member.

Three men jumped and hid behind the counter, afraid for their life, the Bear among them. Hoping the bullets wouldn't punch through, one of them tried to warn the other branch in New York about them being ambushed by an unknown assailant. 

Yet suddenly, successive gunshot after gunshot rang out, filling the counter with holes. 

The Bear, the last one living, having dodged most of the bullets still ended up getting hit in the arm and having it blown off. 

Like that, he wanted to scream in pain, the agony of having lost a hand palatable.

Silence...

The seconds passed by, one after another, and no more signs of that man were seen or heard.

The man, traumatised from that incident, later informed the authorities of the unknown man's rampage. Together with the words that were written in blood by what was assumed to be the first victim, this created a new figure that the public now knew about. A new vigilante. 

'Jacket' was born.