Timestopper - PerthSanta

Chapter 1

The rain hit the window loudly, the droplets sliding down towards the bottom. Cars were honking as everyone was rushing to get to their own destinations. Surprisingly, the weather made sense for where Santa was headed. A funeral.

One of his fathers men was assassinated by a large gang that was causing trouble throughout town. From what he heard, the man was part of a mission to intercept several packs of drugs that were getting transported but he was caught and killed before he had a chance to strike.

Santa leaned back in his seat. He couldn't help but feel irritated. Not because he was attending a funeral when he could be doing something else. But because someone was killed all because they overstepped and attempted a mission that was outside their skill sets. This man signed himself up for death. Despite having a wife and a son, from what his father said during dinner, he got too cocky and tried completing the mission on his own. No one else knew he went out to try and spy on the gang and get a clear view on their plan. Yesterday morning was when his father got a call from a mole at the police station about the body.

"Don't be so sensitive." His father spoke as he read a file. Santa turned to stare at the man. He was wearing a black suit and a large trench coat. His glasses rested low on his nose as his eyes didn't leave the papers he was reading.

His hair remained combed back and straight, not a single grey hair in sight. Unbeknownst to most, his father dyed his hair black to avoid any grey hairs. It was as if he wanted to avoid the concept of getting old.

"I'm not." Santa responded, "I just think it was unnecessary."

His father chuckled, "Well you know the rules of our group."

Santa rolled his eyes. Being part of the mafia, there was an unspoken rule. Whoever has the most kills gets the most respect. Even Santa was under that rule. Of course the gang was built by his family but obedience and respect wasn't given until you proved yourself. If you didn't include his father, Santa was number one. He was a sniper, constantly going for one-shot kills. No matter the shot he never missed.

Completing a mission on your own was a big deal and it resulted in going up in the ranks, which was the only reasoning behind why the man decided to act recklessly.

"Just give your condolences and we can leave." his father said as he closed the folder he was reading.

"Please dad, I know you're going to end up meeting someone you haven't seen and end up talking to them for hours." Santa said, crossing his legs.

"You know I can't help it. It's part of the job."

"If we don't leave after two hours, I'm leaving myself."

"Oh fine, Marc can take you back to the house, and I'll ask Ton to pick me up."

"Perfect." Santa said, Marc gave a thumbs up from the driver's seat.

"No problem."

After a few more minutes, Marc stopped the car, letting both Santa and his father get out and step into the building. A few passerbys stared at the two as the funeral home staff opened the door, allowing them inside.

There were already a good amount of people there. Members from their gang were grouped together chatting away. They made sure to bow at Santa and his father as they walked towards the main room where the immediate family gathered.

As they were walking Santa took notice of several men with snake tattoos printed on their bodies. His irritation spiked up, "Dad, is Mr. Tanapon's gang attending this funeral as well?"

His father gave a nervous laugh, "Did I forget to tell you that? Well the mission was supposed to be a group mission and some of those people included members of his gang, so it only makes sense he shows up."