Ch 1: A little back story

  So some of you may be wondering, "How did a goodie two-shoes nerd wind up as a professional murderer?" Well, to that, I have the question, "Have you ever heard of the saying, 'It's always the quiet ones?'"

  It's true, my real name is Tycho Antony Sanderson, assassin, hired gun, and ex-nerdy classmate of the graduating class of 2013. I have to admit, I didn't even see myself in my current position. I went to college for an applied physics degree. But you know how they say that you change when you get to college? Well, take that statement and multiply it by about 63.2 repeating. Then, you have about half of my story.

  Like I said, I originally went to college for the sciences. I wanted to use my brain for something productive, like developing nuclear energy. However, after being severed from an eighteen-year umbilical cord you may call "my parents," I got relatively lost and needed a sense of direction. And being there solely on scholarships, my parents held little to no tie to me at this point, especially being out-of-state.

  Enter the Mafia.

  Someone once said that the easiest way to get someone to follow a belief is to get them when they're vulnerable. Because obviously no one in my position would want to join a criminal syndicate like the Mafia if they were anything but vulnerable.

  After the shock of my isolation, I didn't know what to do with myself. I lived off of my scholarship money, never having to make an honest living in college, so it was prime for me to blow what money I did have on frivolous things like booze and video games. I eventually hit rock bottom so hard that I robbed my first liquor store.

  To my amazement, I got away with little heat.

  Sure my description was taken and there was a notice out for anyone with my description, but it was so low-key that I was forgotten within about 2 months. Very little damage was done, minus the security cameras and the owner's pride. I went in when there was little traffic, about 3:00 on a Thursday afternoon, and stood in a specific corner of the store where it was almost impossible to see if anything was happening there from the street except from the balcony of an abandoned apartment.

  Maybe it was the surveillance and care I took in the job that intrigued the Mafiosi. Maybe it was the lack of evidence the police could find. Regardless, they tracked me down and gave me a chance in their ranks.

The rest, for the most part, is history, but I'll get to that later.

Reviews

[Truth]

I simply love the way you write! So concise, intellectual. It gets my brain going. I can't wait to see what happens. Wonderful name choice, as well. So unusual. Like this story.