a poor start
untitled
Dominique The Razor was the most disreputable and vicious cut-throat and cold hearted bastard ever to leave his own mother dead from internal bleeding. Upon leaving the womb he had set about the task of growing up and into one of old Bristol's most infamous blemishes, cutting his way to the top of the crime ladder in the city by the age of twenty. However, he soon grew bored in this secure place at the head of the criminal food chain and became want to find himself aversion elsewhere.
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In the mouldering sewage system far under the Bristol docks a lamp flares into life...
"I tell you Maxwell, if this is but one detail wrong from what you have told me, I'll be using your skin for my seat covers. The old beamer's been in need of some recently."
"N-no sir, what I tell is only truth! Gods honour sir!"
Maxwell's voice quivers in fear- he knows Dom never to make his threats idly. Behind him stand ten of the city's most keen and unpleasant enforcers of 'criminal justice'. He just has to hope that the voice thats been giving him instructions for the last few weeks is true to its word.
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I love a city with a good crime scene. I live vicariously through stuff like this, what with living in a city of gardens and crimes like "failure to remove pet's excrement".