[center][img]http://www.baku-panda.org/bounce/dami+spawn+tag.png[/img]
[color=crimson]May 2nd, 2016[/color] [color=gray]♦[/color] [color=crimson]Bludhaven, New Jersey[/color][/center]

Bludhaven was a cesspool of human filth.

The pimps moved hookers. The dealers moved crack. A soccer mom behind on bills was the reigning weed queen of Avalon Hills. 

And so long as it didn't affect him, he was happy to leave them to the petty criminality whittling away at so much human decency and civilization.

It started in the high schools. A heroine overdose. First one, then two, then a high school track star. That was when the attention got to be too much, and the dealers looked for markets elsewhere. Which was when they'd introduced it to a middle school.

To be clear, these dealers were not the dregs of society or demons in sheep's clothing.

Jimmy Arlen was a high schooler. He'd never been in any serious trouble with the law and went to church on Sunday. He made reasonable enough grades, but he wasn't scholarship material. At best, he might hope for community college out of high school, but the writing was pretty much on the wall that he'd go to work driving trucks just like his step-dad. Jimmy wasn't a star athlete, but he rode the bench for varsity basketball and ran track and field. He was a triathlete of meager, if respectable, talent and had gotten hooked on heroine as a way of putting himself in 'the zone.'

He got reduced rates from his dealer, Mark, if he ran some 'errands.' Working for Mark meant becoming a middle man. Mark provided the supply and Jimmy helped with marketing, passing the word, distributing, and collecting the money for Mark as they passed the heroine around the school. Then, when the High School had started cracking down, Jimmy found that his younger cousin was a gateway to a market of kids who could raid their mother's purses for money.

One of those kids had been Fabian Juliard. At twelve, he was interested in girls and Minecraft. His one mistake was that Jimmy Arlen's cousin was his best friend. Now, Fabian had never done anything like this before, but agreed to try it with a friend during a sleepover truth-and-dare that had ended with one kid headed to Juvenile Hall and the other to the morgue. 

For what it was worth, Jimmy had apologized.

By the time the investigators had gotten together all of the information that they needed, and headed out to the trailer park on the lower east side where Jimmy Arlen lived, the call had already come in of a possible suicide at that address. Jimmy Arlen had hung himself with a length of rusted wrought iron chain. None of the cops had ever seen its like before. Kid had even pissed and shit himself in the obvious struggle against the metal cutting into his throat. 

The curious thing was, no one could tell just how Jimmy had gotten himself up the tree like that. But there wasn't signs of a struggle and the cops didn't see a reason to chase that tangent when the medical examiner was going to rule it a suicide anyway.

See you in Hell, Jimmy.

And I mean that.