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I've recently been recruited to a gang. Becoming another tool for another group. A tool in the war to see its comrades die, two in a building, one from a bomb. A tool to a secret group that leaves hidden messages on the phone, killing and slaughtering. Finding love and comfort, only for her to be taken away from betrayal. I've done everything, but I must have slipped. A tool broken and beyond repair, yet still being used.
A tool: Only speak when spoken to. Take, follow, and listen to orders given to. Make yourself useful. Do not talk back. Do not show weakness. Do not show emotions. Take less than others. Be on guard and prepared. Execute the targets.
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Maybe they'll be different than 50 blessings. Maybe.
'Wolf' was the one who recruited me and brought me in after the interrogation. He already told me about the plan about breaking out a friend from prison, how nice. The one there getting out goes by the name 'Hoxton'. He seemed happy, maybe excited, possibly from beating up the mobster or getting a new ṭ̴͂̀̈̑͝͝ō̸̢͓͇̩͇̿o̷̱̬̩̝͉͌̈́̇̆̈ļ̴̳̻̂̓member. To be honest, I don't know why, but once he showed me where the safe house is, he still seemed happy when he gave me the tour. He also showed me where my room is, which is nice, it's located on the basement floor next to a spiral staircase. My room was next to the gym area and a small hockey area, I'm guessing someone is into hockey and wanted a room for them to play possibly. The other members of this gang aren't here, I'm told some are on a heist, some are on their way here from personal homes or some left for fresh air, something to eat, or possibly getting groceries to restock the fridge. Somehow....it feels like home......something's wrong with me again, I highly doubt they'll keep me once their main plan is finished.
