NoPixel Imagines/Blurbs

The Soldier

It had been a day like any other. He'd started it by restocking his shop as the war between Mandem, Cerberus, and Gulag Gang had continued on. Solomon felt somewhat guilty for being a little happy that this war was happening - while he was nervous for his friends in the large war that was happening in the city, he saw how much money was going into the business account as they fought. He'd gone out to get supplies for the shop and was returning when an Enus pulled up to him. A higher pitched yet still masculine voice called out to him from the darkened car.

"Get in." The voice said as a deagle was pointed out of the window. Sol thought for a moment about what he could do. The car was big enough for four people not including the trunk which meant that there was potentially four people in the car with multiple guns that were considered the best to use in the city, plus anyone who may be hiding in the trunk. He could take maybe 2 or 3, but any more than that would be useless. He knew he could do nothing to prevent them from taking him. He'd thought that this would happen when just over a week ago, Mandem had accidentally brought him into war.

"Alright, alright." He said with anger in his eyes. The trunk popped open and he climbed in.He was pulled out of the trunk to see he was in a garage of sorts. He was surrounded by 11 men all in masks with an octopus holding 2 AKs on it. The men surrounding him had eyes that held emptiness and anger. He felt his arms be pulled back and into cuffs. He would've made a joke about being the one who cuffed his Mrs though he felt it wouldn't really be a good idea at that point. He was pushed into an uncomfortable chair.

"So what the fuck was Matt doing in your store announcing himself to you like you'd invited him?" The shorter man who'd pointed the gun at Solomon basically shouted. The man's light blue eyes had darkened in rage.

"I don't know what you mean-" Sol was cut off by the butt of a shotgun to his stomach. He groaned in pain as he keeled over.

"Don't lie to me. I know you go to their block and hang out with them." The man said. Solomon finally recognised the man, this was Marty Banks, the main leader - or the one who was in town the most - of Gulag Gang.

"We're neighbours, mate-" He was cut off by a knife suddenly slicing his arm. He froze for a moment in the pain, he'd felt worse pain than this.

"You're more than that, aren't you?" Marty yelled. One of the taller men, a black man with a cap on, looked uncomfortable.

"They-they... come to my shop... to buy... things to fight you... lot." Sol tried to sound strong, but he was in pain. The feeling of being cut and tied up brought him back to around ten years prior when he'd been here before. 

"Talk or we'll make you talk." Marty seemed to lose his patience.

"Mate... I've gone through.. SAS training. You'll-you'll have to do... better than... that." The soldier winced in pain, but smirked his infamous smirk.

The gang tried for hours to get information out of Solomon Walker, but he said nothing of importance. They cut him, punched him, threatened the woman he loved. They'd gotten nothing but the man's laughter and sarcastic remarks. The last things the man remembered were a deagle being pointed to his chest, a loud pop, and pain.

When he woke up again, he was sopping wet with pain in his chest, the nervous and/or terrified faces of his friends and crew, and a doctor looking at him with what seemed like shock.

"You're alive." The doctor whispered, seeming surprised the beaten, bruised, shot man had survived. There was one thing about Solomon Walker, though, that most people didn't understand. He was a survivor.