End Of The Line

vol 1 | Solo Leveling

arc 0 | Prologue

ch. 1 | End Of The Line

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※ Notes:

Before we begin, I wanna say thank you for selecting to read my story even though there are millions of better ones out there. Your precious time means a lot to me, dear reader. So, thank you. (⁠づ⁠￣⁠ ⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠づ

This is my first time writing after my extended hiatus due to my accident. I'm back and well. Thank you. But please go easy on me (⁠ꏿ⁠﹏⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)

All constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated, and so are your ideas and suggestions. Do let me know.

Anyways, without further ado, let's get started!

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The clouds grumbled over the city of London, setting the mood for what would be a damp and gloomy post-midnight ahead.

The lightning danced a fiery silver amongst the dark foggy clouds, as a door to a black van popped open in sync with the booming thunder that followed the flash. And out stepped a neatly dressed, gruffly built Caucasian man in his late twenties.

Breathing in the moisture in the air, the man straightened his overcoat before lighting himself a cigarette.

*Sizzle*

With the overhead lights of the London bridge casting a shadow over his visage, the lighter was the only thing illuminating his face, revealing a handsome but bloody face marked with various scars, both stale and fresh.

Blood dripped down his eyebrows from the cut just above it but the man was least bothered as he put away the lighter before proceeding to open the backdoor of his van.

"Out y'all come."

The man muttered to himself breathing out the smoke, the cigarette still between his lips, as he pulled out six large black plastic bags, one by one with relative ease. He harrumphed, hoisting the bag over the parapet of the bridge, and just as he was about push it down to the Thames below, he was interrupted by his ringing phone. Pulling the cigarette away from his lips, he accepted the call from the unknown number.

"This is Private Detective J. Wallace. Who's it?"

The man asked with a frown as he pushed the first bag off the bridge.

"Jacques! Jack! It's me!"

"Oh! Hello, Roger." The man smirked to himself, his lips embracing the cigarette yet again as he hoisted up the second black body-sized bag over the parapet. "Calling from an unknown number again? Is it the receptionists you recently started sleeping with?"

"What-Shhhh! You punk! I'm at home! I am NOT sleeping with Amanda and this is my wife's new number-Ugh!... You got me again you rascal..." The panic-stricken senior cop slowly calmed down and deadpanned once he realized that Wallace was pulling his leg.

"Payback. You are calling me late again. It's past 2. Are you sleeping on the couch again? Or did Rhea kick you out?"

"No! You little cunt-ugh... No! I called you to let you know that the Marina Church Raid was a bust." Roger answered as Jacques frowned to himself after dumping the second bag. "We caught Senator Mortimer, he was the high priest bearing the snake crest just as you had reported. We caught him, several other common fodder and high ranking cultist but we lost the 'Pope' amidst the chaos!"

"Bloody fucking hell... You guys had one job!"

"Ahh... W-Well-"

"Do you know how hard it was to poach the bastard snakehead out of his hole?! Three months!" Jacques scoffed blowing out smoke as he dumped the third bag. "I should have just done the job myself. That would have been far simple and efficient."

"You can't! You can't just take the law into your hand! There is a process Wallace! You know it well and you agreed-"

"Reluctantly-"

"Yeah, and that's why I helped you set up your agency! That's how it should be done! By the books! Vigilantism isn't the solution! You can't stop crimes by committing more crimes!" Roger lectured Wallace who just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," Jacques replied offhandedly as he looked down at the three bags by his feet and almost snicked out loud. "Heh."

"I-You?... Are you laughing?!"

"Nah, just your ears." Wallace said as he kicked the bag nearest to him. "So that's it?"

"Hah... Yep. I just called you to give you a heads-up. We did a number on this 'Church of Quincy' bastards so they might seek some payback. Rhea suggested you stay over for a couple of weeks, strength in numbers she says and I agree but knowing you, I know you'd refuse." Roger sighed as Wallace smiled before dumping the fourth bag. "And judging from the lack of response. I know I'm right. So I won't force you, but stay safe."

"Hah... This is why I don't chase crazy looney cult cunts. Murder out of greed, jealousy, ambition, passion, or even compulsions is more fascinating to me than catching retarded bastards killing mindlessly, offering children and virgins to their nonexistent gods and devils in the name of salvation." Jacques scoffed to himself as Roger chuckled nervously. "Whatever, we are even now. I did my part, clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good. I'll swing by the station 'morrow. You up for coffee?"

"I prefer tea."

"Of course... fucking Brit." Wallace cursed but smiled good-naturedly to himself nonetheless.

"So where are you now? I hear the cars in the back... New case?"

"Nah, I'm by the Thames."

"For what mate?! It is too late for a deep dive! Is it about Lucy?! She'll come back-"

"Fuck off Renny." Wallace chuckled. "You know me well, I ain't gonna throw my life over some bitch that doesn't love me no more. I got my own shit to do."

"That's... That's a bit harsh but as long as you are fine... Now then..."

"Then what?"

"What are you doing up the Thames this late?"

"Just feeding the fishes." Jacques smiled pushing off the fifth bag.

"Past... Um... At 2:45 am in the fucking morning?"

"Yep." He smiled hoisting the last bag. "Couldn't sleep."

"Okay... Bread?" Roger asked and just as Jacques was about to throw the last bag off, the knot loosened up causing a hand to poke out.

White male, calloused hands. Big fingers that were awkwardly bent in random directions. Broken under the pressure of immense physical torture.

Wallace stared at the hand jutting out, as blood began to flow out of the bag, staining the parapet.

"Nah, meat." Jacques grinned to himself pushing the hand back inside as he tightened the knot, tightly this time. "Just fresh, bad meat."

*Splash*

"It was bad, like shit... So, instead of throwing it away, why not just feed the fish?"

"...You are so weird. You know that right?"

"Yep." He smiled taking a huge puff. The cigarette was about to go out.

"Anyways, have heard anything about those bastards from the Anna Suarez Gangrape-Murder case?"

"No, why?"

"The prosecutor busted his chance. Well, it was 50/50 from the beginning since with the body of the victim being burnt so badly the results came back negative from the rape kit, so without any solid ones, the judge dismissed the statement of the three witnesses from the homeless shelter, saying the witness couldn't be trusted and the evidence was circumstantial at best! That motherfucker! The judge ate up! I just know! The alibi of those bastards was shaky as well but he still ruled the case in their favor!" Roger grumbled as Jacques just frowned to himself.

"Oh, how badly I want to put a bullet in the back of the heads of those slimy maggots!"

"Easy there bub. You can't take the law in your hands, remember?" Jacques jabbed as Rodger sighed.

"Yeah, yeah. The point is that six of those bastards suddenly went off the grid yesterday and we haven't been able to sniff them down yet. So, I was wondering if you might be interested in investigating their whereabouts." Roger asked hopefully as Jacques looked down the parapet and grinned to himself.

"Nah... The dead don't concern me." He said, muttering the last part under his breath.

"Huh? I didn't hear ya! Louder!"

"I said dead cases don't concern me. The investigation was closed three months ago and the evidence might just be as circumstantial as it seems, Roger." Jacques lied as naturally as he breathed. "Plus I got six fresh cases on my hand right now. I need to wash these off my hands first."

"Ah, alright, alright then." Roger said as Jacques pulled out a remote detonator from his jacket pocket. Opening the guard case, he pressed the button, once he confirmed the weights attached to the body bags had pulled the body to the depths of the river. "So, how about I hook you up with Amanda? Her friend Pamela is cute too-"

*Boom!*

The water splashed a bit under the river, the sound of the explosion mostly muffled by the water but it was still loud enough to be heard by Roger, who was on the other side of the call.

"What was that?!"

"Just the clouds Renny." Jacques smirked looking up as it started to drizzle a bit. "It's gonna be raining cats and dogs out here in a minute."

"Oh right... It's pretty shit out there. You should get home soon! You'll be sick if you get soaked!"

"Shhh, it's alright." Wallace replied blowing out the smoke last time, tossing the cigarette, and then stepping on it while looking up just as it began to downpour. The rain hit Jacques' bloodied face, along with the blood-soaked parapet.

Fresh puddles formed in a matter of seconds as the water flushed the red down the drains, erasing any trace of it as Wallace just basked in the midnight rain. Eyes closed.

"Man, I love when it rains in London."

"Why?"

"It's a beautiful type of gloom."

"..."

"..."

"...Fucking weirdo." Roger shivered to himself on the other side of the line as Jacques stepped back into his van, slicking back his shoulder-length wavy raven hair. "Anyways, so how about Amanda or her friend-"

"No. Both of them. Just no."

"Why?! Do you wanna be a single, sorry, and depressed jackass for the rest of your life?!"

"Single sure. But sorry and depressed? Nope." Jacques chuckled stepping on the gas. "Life is good to me, solve mysteries, shank bastards, have sex with no strings attached, not since the last one, play games, and eat good fucking food-"

"You do hear yourself?-"

"-Plus 2D is superior."

"You can't fuck Rias Gremory, you do understand that right?"

(ET/N: *Ahem* Yeah... About that...)

"I'm more of an Akeno Himejima guy but whatever. Rias is fine as long as it is all in for a 2D harem. Sign me the fuck up."

"Blasphemy! You choose one and you stick to it!"

"Nah but whatever man... Plus I ain't got time for this dating stuff, I've got work, and when I'm not working I have to finish all the anime I've stocked on my watchlist to clear the schedule for the Solo Leveling's anime that's gonna air soon."

"That's it! This is the last time I even attempt to get you a girl!"

"Ah, Thank God!"

"Shut up you cheeky punk! Just go home and go to sleep!"

Jacques bickered with his surrogate father for a bit as he drove himself home.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

"Don't worry, I'll be okay... Yeah yeah... I'm home now, will you just let me sleep now?... Good. Goodnight Rogers." Jacques smiled to himself as he disconnected the call while stepping out of his van after parking it. Shaking his head he stepped towards the front porch of his modest two-story house, beaconing himself towards the door. "He worries too much-"

Wallace stopped just as he was about to reach for the doorknob when he spotted something.

It was a single slightly bent match stick.

Factory made. One of a billion made every day. It didn't appear extraordinary in any way.

And normally it would be the case had it not been the same one he had tucked between the door and the door frame quite tightly. So the only conclusion why the match laid on the porch was that the door had recently been opened.

And not by him.

"Maybe... Roger was right this time."

His doubts were only cemented once he noticed faint footprints on the porch. Although it was hard to see under the dim lighting, Wallace was able to make out at least nine different sets of footprints. Grumbling to himself he quickly sent an 'SOS' text to Roger, before pulling out his gun.

A Custom Gen4 Glock 19 with a standard 9mm 15-round magazine, gleamed under the dim light as Jacques' finger rested beside the trigger as he assumed a close combat-ready position, resting his side against the wall beside the door and he knocked. Once, twice and thrice.

*Knock!**Knock!**Knock!*

"Excuse me!" Jacques called out as he strained his ears for any signs of a moment. And not a moment later he heard shuffling right behind the door and his eyes gleamed with malicious intent as a sauntering smirk made its way across his lips. "I don't mean to interrupt this late but I saw some people crowding Mr Wallace's front porch and I know for a fact he isn't home and you aren't his friends. Now... I don't know what intentions you distinguished gentlemen might have but I gotta let you in on a secret."

He waited until he saw the door knob strain but before the door could open, Wallace moved.

"You picked the wrong fucking house to break into!"

(ET/N: Alexa! Play Resonance by Aim To Head)

Wallace kicked the door just as it opened. The kick has such force behind it, that it cracked the skull of the hostile who opened the door for him.

Wallace was swift, he kicked the other hostile beside the door in his stomach, sending him tumbling onto a glass coffee table as he turned to grab the man, whose skull he had crushed earlier.

Pressing the muzzle against the man's neck, he pulled the trigger, confirming the killshot as he used the now-confirmed dead body as a meat shield to protect himself from the assault of his trespassers.

And sure enough, the bullets came not a second later. Bracing himself, Wallace grunted as a bullet grazed his rib. He knew this meat shield wouldn't last for long so he moved as soon as he heard the unanimous chorus of several 'clicks'. He kicked the meat shield he was holding onto the man that laid on the now shattered remains of the glass table as he pulled the trigger.

The bullet pierced through the eye, effectively turning his brain into a bloody mush. Wallace flagged his trusty gun around, pulling the trigger five more times. All killshots and the proof of the hits were the bodies, now dressing the floor a muddy red.

Wallace didn't let his guard down as he counted two bodies less than it should be and he was right to stay on his toes as two figures swooped in from the shadows of the corner of the room.

Wallace aimed his gun quickly moving backward, but the shot missed slightly when the hostile closest to him socked him in the face. The displaced shot still hit the hostile in the knee causing him to scream in agony.

Wallace despite being punched strongly in the face, moved in to capitalize on his foe's plight, showcasing his endurance. He grabbed the hostile and threw him over and into the tv with a sweeping hip toss.

He leaned back avoiding a stab aimed at his neck, causing it to graze his cheek. He grabbed the offending arm in retaliation and pulled him closer before pistol-whipping the hostile in the nose sending him tumbling back.

Wallace aimed his gun at the man but his hand swayed making it difficult for him to aim. The fog that began to cloud his vision didn't help either. Wallace grimaced as he realized something strange was afoot.

Before he could steady his grip, the hostile he had tossed into his expensive TV had managed to pull himself up and grabbed Wallace from the back before stabbing him in the back with a shard of the broken glass.

"Argh!" Wallace grunted in pain and it was only amplified by whatever had flooded his system and impaired his actions. His offender twisting the glass shard into the bleeding wound didn't make it any better.

Gritting his teeth through the pain, Wallace suddenly leaned to his left and elbowed the man in the face using his right. The impact broke the hostile's nose and loosened his grip on Wallace, which he capitalized as he grabbed his offender and threw him onto the floor with a crushing hip toss. He followed the toss with an attack so viscous that it would make a grown man wince and puke.

Grunting he punched the muzzle of his gun through the hostile's eye and smirked in glee as he enjoyed putting the man through worse pain than he had inflicted on Wallace.

"Ahhhhhh-"

*Bang!* x5

A well-placed bullet through a soft spot in the skull is enough to soup the gelatinous brain.

The less said about five bullets to the noggin at such an intimate distance... the better.

It was safe to say, Wallace was a man that wasn't willing to part with his grudges easily. After all, the motto for his whole life had been, 'Never forget. Never forgive'.

He kept his grudges closer to his heart than he kept friendships.

Wallace counted recounted the bullets in his head and deduced he had two more left. More than enough to put the last man standing before him to rest.

That is if the man didn't put him to rest first. The fog covering his eyes was getting thicker and the dizziness was effectively turning him into a handicapped.

The hostile moved in, capitalizing on Wallace's moment of weakness but Wallace moved in time and rolled over avoiding a kick that would have surely broken his neck.

Grabbing a flower vase laying on the ground beside him, he tossed it up into the way of the man's slash as the glass shattered spilling water and glass everywhere. Wallace used the distraction to aim for the man's head but he was a second late as the hostile kicked the gun out of his hand. The shot only grazed his leg.

The hostile hissed as he brandished his knife, the blade gleamed maliciously, mirroring the man's eyes. The hostile smirked as Wallace pulled himself up causing Wallace to tilt his head.

"What are you so happy about?" Wallace said as he removed his coat but not before pulling out a tanto knife from its sheath. The hostile lost his smile as Wallace smirked at him. "You surprised?... Should have known better.-"

"-This is motherfucking London after all."

Wallace held the black-bladed tanto knife in a Filipino forward grip with his thumb tracing the spine of the knife.

"What are you waiting for?" Wallace tilted his head as he baited the man to lean in and the man did so.

Wallace leaned into the attack, the blade missing his neck as he grabbed the offending hand and hooked the knife into the man's side. Wallace smirked as the man shrieked in pain as Jacques twisted the blade.

The hostile headbutted Wallace who staggered back a bit but didn't loosen his grip. Wallace blinked several times as he felt blood running down his broke nose, gracing his lips.

Licking his bloodstained lips, Wallace cocked his head back, planted his right foot between the man's leg, and smashed his frontal head into the man's already broken nose.

*Crunch!*

Barely awake, the hostile was shaken from his position, swung around, and then swung into the wall as Wallace pressed the knife further into the man's side.

"You gave me this poisonous gift across the face, it's only right I return the fucking favor."

"Argh!"

"Also... Mine's bigger than yours."

(A/N: Wait what?! Ah, the knife...)

Pulling the knife out, he took several steps back as blood gushed out of the hostile's wound like a waterfall. The man, weakened braced himself as he tumbled onto his knee, clutching his gaping wound to prevent blood loss but it was futile.

Enraged, knowing he would die sooner or later, the man lost any sense of self-preservation and charged toward Wallace, intending to take him to hell as well.

But Wallace had other plans.

He deflected the stab to the side with ease before stepping in and striking the man in the chin with an open palm. Switching the blade into a reverse grip, he slashed the man across the face which cause him to shriek set again, cradling his wound which allowed Wallace to pin him against the wall and gut the man with a flurry of stabs to the abdomen and chest.

The man puked blood, some smearing across Wallace's face, who just remained focused. Sweating from exhaustion and the poison in his system, he kept stabbing. The hostile was annoying and persistent like a cockroach and tried to stab Wallace in the neck but, he just leaned back and switched to an icepick grip before he buried the blade into the back of the man's elbow.

The man couldn't even scream as Wallace applied pressure and stabbed the man in the neck, the knife still stabbing through the elbow causing the hand to be bent at an awkward angle. With a sickening twist, Wallace retrieved his blade and tossed the now-severed hand down.

Wallace breathed heavily as he slowly staggered towards his kitchen cabinet and pulled out a half-finished bottle of Dalmore's Luminary. Pouring himself a glass he groaned as he settled himself into his only intact couch.

Taking a sip he closed his eyes as he felt the whiskey burn down his throat.

"I don't usually drink but man... I'm so fucked today." He muttered to himself as his lips welcomed another sip before the glass was replaced by the familiar feeling of the cotton filter of his favorite cigarette. He grumbled to himself as he heard his busted door open while he struggled to find his lighter. "Ahhh, it's in the fucking coat and you are fucking late Renny."

As Wallace stood up and retrieved the lighter he felt the footsteps get closer and closer but by the time he felt that something was wrong it was too late.

"I'm afraid Mr. Reynolds wouldn't be arriving anytime soon, Mr. Wallace or... Can I call you Mr. Ripper?" Wallace turned on his feet but just as he caught the sight of gold braces gleaming in the dim light, he was struck across the face with a diamond-encrusted cane.

Wallace fell face first onto the floor, not putting up much of a fight because as immense as Wallace's endurance was, he was by no means a superhero and there are not many mortals who can get hit by one of the strongest materials on earth and just shrug it off.

"You... How do I even begin? WHERE... Do I even begin? Introductions? But I assume you already know who I am considering you nearly got me arrested, mmhmm Mr Wallace?" The pudgy, freckled albino man grinned. Spit slobbering all over his double chin as he peered down at Wallace with his beady, eyes.

"F-Fucking Quincy bastard..." Wallace spat out as the fat man frowned lifting his foot before rubbing the sole of his spotless white leather shoe on Wallace's face.

"Now that's not nice... How vulgar but that's not a surprise considering who you are. And do you not know that it is heresy of the highest form to curse your God? Even though he stands before you in the flesh?"

The pudgy man asked spreading his hands as Wallace growled trying to get up but the pudgy man just sneered as he dug his cane into the wound he had sustainable from the glass shard. Wallace gritted his teeth but didn't flinch, not wanting to give the man any satisfaction. He only smirked as the pudgy man's frustration became apparent.

"Looks like you still have a lot of fight in you. But, there are many ways to break a person. If not physical, then mental, and even then there are various ways. But let's start with me. As everything should be."

"F-Fuck off-argh!"

"I am Oswald Viktor Benelli but you might know me as the Bishop Maximus, the Pope! Yes, it is I! I am Quincy! The rightful heir to his world and the God of the new age!" Oswald or rather Quincy boasted as Wallace could only deadpan to himself.

'This is why I fucking hate looney cult cunts!'

"And I, your God bring you salvation, my dear child. Jacques Lorcan Wallace, orphaned at a young age, parents killed in front of him. Offenders caught, but not convicted. 15 years old, ended up in a juvie for aggravated assault on Lucas Freeman and Marco Onasi, killer of your parents-"

"Get to the fuckin' point. I don't need you to recount the life I've lived... I remember everything." Wallace growled after gathering his strength.

"...Very well. I'll get to the point. Once you were out of the army, you can back to the city where your parents were murdered, to change it. Young, starry-eyed but when you realized you couldn't change much the way the system and the law worked you decide to make take the matter into your own hands. And that's how the second reincarnation of Jack The Ripper was born. The Killer of Killers, eh?" Quincy scoffed as he kneeled beside Wallace who just looked into his beady eyes defiantly. "You think you did something good but know that you have changed nothing. You might think of yourself as a hero but do you believe the world out there is going to think of you as such? To them, you would be no better than The Ripper who came before you. And when the word gets out, and trust me it will, I've made sure that they know that you are the 21st Century's Ripper, they will be out for your blood like hounds after witches in Salem."

"..."

"You will face prosecution no different than the killer of your parents but only this time... You will be punished. And counting your bodies, your sins. You are a dead man on borrowed time." Quincy grinned sadistically while Wallace's face was unreadable. "Now, by all means, I should have just purified the world of your heresy since you committed a cardinal sin by baring your fangs against me, but I see potential in you. There can be redemption for you. Only if you agree-"

"Nah... I'm good." Wallace grinned as Quincy blinked in surprise.

"You may think you are brave-"

"Listen here you ugly pasty fat fuck and listen close. Did you think that I had never thought that I'd ever get caught? When I started this, I started this knowing that one day, either I'll slip up or someone will get the better of me. And I had made peace with the fact that my end is only death on the day I started my bloody crusade against faggots like you."

Wallace grinned, his teeth bloody but the peace in his eyes was apparent. He knew his end and this was it and he barely had any regrets.

"But I did it regardless of my end because what I do now, the trash I put down the drain, down the river are gonna stay at the bottom and they are not going to come back."

"..."

"Death is a solution and damn me if it isn't a permanent one." Wallace grinned. "And just as permanent will be the mark I'll leave behind me. So, there is no use trying to scare me. I knew it well. Even Dexter was caught in the end, so why wouldn't I?"

"Aghhhhhhh!" Quincy screamed as Wallace just laughed. "You... You son of a bitch! You have the gall to laugh in MY face?! After you ruined the kingdom I built over the years in a single night?! You dare?!"

(A/N: Junior?! Do you dare?!!!!!!!!)

Quincy by now had lost all of his cool and began kicking and hitting the laughing Jacques with his cane. Wallace knew human nature all too well, the man waving his big stick around, thinking he's in charge of the room, all high and mighty but when the facade and the bravado wear out revealing the true faces of men like Quincy and all left see is tiny, egomaniacs driven to the brink of insanity by their delusions, lust, and greed.

"P-Pfffff... All of that speech, all of that boasting for what? Hahaha." Wallace grinned clutching his broken ribs as the albino toad almost turned red in his rage, stabbing Wallace with his cane but the battered man just smirked through the pain, infuriating Quincy even more. "You are a sad little man, Oswald and you are going to die alone and forgotten because your delusions amount to nothing. And without them, you are nothing you fat fuck!"

"You... I'm gonna kill you with my own two hands!" Quincy growled as he mounted Jacques and wrapped his stubby fat fingers around his throat and applied pressure in an attempt to rob Wallace of his life but Wallace wasn't one to go down without a fight. He grabbed the index finger of both of his hands and broke it in a snap before the man could react. "Ahhhhhh-"

Quincy attempted to scream but Jacques grabbed his hair and pulled his head in before elbowing the man in the face.

"I am ex-military. What are you again?" Wallace grinned as Quincy pulled his hand back to punch Wallace. "Oh right... An ex-con."

"You worm!" Quincy punched Wallace in the face who just ate it with a bloodied smile. "The fuck you laughing at?!"

"As an ex-con, you should know about sleeve tricks right?" Wallace said as Quincy's eyes widened but it was too late. Wallace flicked his wrist and in a flash of a moment a small sleeve gun rested in the grip of his right hand, finger around the trigger, the muzzle caressing the fat neck of the bastard.

"Surprise~"

*Bang!* *Bang!*

Smoke emitted from the muzzle of the small gun as Quincy fell backward, dead.

"*Cough!* F-Fuck..." Wallace cursed as shakily stood up clutching his ribs. He was entirely soaked in blood. Some of his foes but most being his own.

He wasn't going to make it.

And he didn't plan on doing so either.

Even if he survived he would most likely be given the needle or life in prison due to just how many criminals he had murdered in the past 7 years.

He's had a good run and he was proud of what he did and for the rest, he could care less.

He was a deadman anyways.

Grabbing the fat fuck's golden cane, he raised it over his head, and brought it down onto the man's face, again and again. Until it was nothing but a disfigured mass of torn flesh and broken bones vaguely resembling a face.

"Y-You picked the wrong house to b-break in and the wrong dog to b-bite... B-Bitch... Uck!" Wallace stumbled falling onto his face as he puked blood.

He was bleeding out.

Wallace smiled through it as he crawled towards the wall and helped himself up, to rest against it. He saw the bottle, cigarette, and lighter nearby and contemplated before weakly smiling to himself.

"Fuck it. One time... *Cough!* For the o-one time." Wallace said as he grabbed the bottle and took a sip, before replacing the bottle with the cigarette as he lit it. Inhaling the smoke, he leaned back as the felt the smoke fill his lungs as the nicotine rushed towards his brain and ease the ticking in his brain. The alcohol was working its magic as well. "Alexa... Play something... Might as well enjoy-"

~I... can't move, I'm so paralyzed. I'm so paralyzed, I can't explain why I'm terrified. I'm so terrified~

The Weeknds voice rang out and Jacques recognized the song instantly. He just smiled bitterly to himself as he leaned back staring at the ceiling as he took another sip.

"How, ironic..." Wallace muttered to himself as reflected on his life and how it turned out for him. Just what IT turned him into. "But... It isn't bad... Not at all..."

~Well, I don't wanna touch the sky no more, I just wanna feel the ground when I'm coming down. It's been way too long, And I don't even wanna get high no more. Just want it out of my life, out of my life, out~

After his parents' death, Renny always looked after him, took him in after he got out of juvie, sent him to school, and helped him get into the army.

Changed his life all around and now, he was going to leave his surrogate father behind.

Although he didn't want to feel it now, it hurt a bit that he was going to let him down by calling it quits first.

But he had already made his bed, now he had to sleep in it.

"No... N-No use crying over spilled milk... He'll... He'll be o-okay..."

~I wanna cut you outta my dreams, 'Til I'm bleeding out, 'Til I'm bleeding. I wanna cut you outta my mind, 'Til I'm bleeding out, 'Til I'm bleeding~

He had big dreams, a good job, a good house, a good girl, and a big good family. But life caused him to swerve around, and he had to abandon most of his dreams for his mission. Leading a double life took a toll on him and he couldn't juggle it. And his incompetence caused 'her' to bear the whole burn of it and in the end, she couldn't take it.

Looking back, he couldn't blame her.

No... He shouldn't blame her. It was unfair.

"E-Even a rubber band c-can only stretch so much..."

They both tried their best.

It was good while it lasted. He was lucky that he meet her. He just wished...

"I... I wanna see her... Even i-if... For the last time... I... Are those s-sirens...?"

~I wanna cut you outta my dreams, Whoa, I'm bleeding out. Girl, I'm bleeding, I wanna cut you outta my mind. 'Cause I'm bleeding out, Oh, I'm bleeding. Girl, I'm bleeding~

"Wallace? The fuck are you? Come out?! This better not be a trick to get me back?! I'm not that easy-Is the door... Oh my god-Ahhh! Wallace?! Wallace?! Jack?! Jack! Nononono! Stay with me... Jack, oh dear God nonono!"

Jacques blew out the smoke for the last time as he was shaken and taken into the warm embrace of the woman he had loved.

The cigarette hit the floor. The embers barely burning.

Seeing her beautiful face, the blond hair styled in a princess cut framed her visage. It warmed his heart for the last time as his body began to shut down.

Seeing tears plague the beautiful stormy grey clouds almost broke his smile but it's only a passing thing. In time, this pain would fade away too. She'll be okay.

"You... Y-You... Will be o-okay?..." Wallace asked, the voice barely leaving his throat as he shakily raised his hand and cupped the left side of her face as Lucy shook her head. Telling him to stop talking but Wallace smiled. "B-Be okay... I... I love..."

No. There was no need.

~I keep telling myself I don't need it, I keep telling myself, I don't need it anymore, I keep telling myself I don't need it anymore~

There was no need to hurt her anymore. Saying it would only hurt her more. It was alright for him to take his feelings to his grave just like his grudges and regrets.

Wallace just smiled in the end, weakly patting her cheek as sounds began to fade out. The sirens, the music, and the clamoring medics, her face. It all began to fade away as a comfortable yet cold darkness began to blanket his beaten, broken and tired body.

The smoke began to disperse into the air as the embers of the cigarette slowly fizzled out.

A lot of things were left unsaid, a lot of wishes unfulfilled and a lot of regrets were left unaddressed but alas there wasn't enough time for him to truly spread his wings.

~Need it anymore~

'If only...'

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Alternate Titles:

-Trashy Author's Inglorious Comeback!

-After Hours: Cigarette Edition

-Going Out With a Bang

╾─────────────────────────╼

Word Count = 6000+

※ Notes:

I went overboard with the prologue but I felt the readers needed to get a good read on the main character and understand what makes him tick and why. Understand how his morale compass operates and just get a sense of where to place him on the alignment scale of good (duh), gray (neutral), or grody (evil).

So that you can relate and connect better with the MC.

The inclusion of the song might be a bit cringe but if you know me, you know I'm one for cinematics and when I write, I picture the scene taking place in my head and it makes sense to me in a weird way.

Also, the reflection part, in the end, was basically what happens when you have a close shave with death. I recently experienced something similar when I woke up tied to various machines in a ward after my accident so yeah, a lot of soul has been put into this one.

Anyways, that's all for the start. All the best to us! We did it with a bang and now let's see where this goes.

All questions and queries will be answered to the best of my abilities.

Aight, I'll see you Legends in the next one.

Love you all, you cute fuckers.