A week previous
Mundy sat in the darkened alley, rain pouring down onto the top of his mask like a waterfall from the heavens. His breathing was slow and heavy, each breath sucking in and gradually blowing out as he stared at the wall in front of him with his piercing, crystal blue eyes. He quickly got up, a machete in his gloved hands. He stared at the brick wall ahead of him, he'd planned this for weeks, he couldn't let it go to waste now. He shoved his face against the wall, slowly merging through it until his entire body was in the mostly empty storage room, save for a few brooms and such. He rose to his feet, a machete at his side. Mundy opened the door in front of him, checking left and right as he exited. Mostly everyone was asleep or too tired to notice Mundy in the dark, the only light coming from the tv's that were left on throughout the night.
Mundy's eyes narrowed, he stalked over to one of the more awake guards before quickly slashing his throat and sending him to the ground. He repeated the process with the rest of the guards before butchering the gangsters who had been asleep or almost asleep, leaving only the kingpin and the 'innocent' prostitutes alive. He let the prostitutes go, but kept the kingpin awake for what he was about to do next. He grabbed him by the hair, dragging him halfway through a wall before letting him go, trapping him in between rooms. Mundy then proceeded to cut off just about every limb the kingpin had before cauterizing the wound with a handy blowtorch he had found in a maintenance cabinet. He left the kingpin alive to warn his friends about what had happened that night. Mundy's blood lust was satisfied, for now. He took off his mask a few blocks away before heading home.
Present day
Mundy woke up. His bed was messy and the sheet that covered his mattress had been pulled from its tightly tucked position and was now halfway up the bed. Mundy never was a still sleeper. He got out of bed, had a shower and got dressed before having a breakfast of toast and butter and coming to the realization that it was actually his day off from work. He had practically forgotten what day of the week it was, let alone if he was working that day. He usually didn't have much to do in his free time other than watch TV or read, and TV was boring recently. He loved to watch nature documentaries and the like, but the channels he regularly watched them on often ran repeats throughout the day and the good, new stuff only really started at around dinner time. He decided to check the local library, he had a book to return anyway.
Mundy entered the library with eyes like a snake on the hunt. He moved over to the crime section, scanning for any new novels that had reached the shelves. Disappointed, he almost reached for the packet of cigarettes sticking out of his jackets upper front pocket, only to remember the time he actually had done that in the library and had received one hell of a scolding for it. He instead resorted to biting the nail of his thumb to bide him over, one habit replacing another. He eventually decided on some sort of fictional history novel, set in the wild west. He moved to the front desk, placing the two books on the desk along with his library card on top of the two.
"Hi, just returning this and checking this one out" He mumbled, still chewing his thumb.
Half Pint
