Hunted

1 – THE FOUNDATION

What does it mean to be “hunted?” Is it the hungry blood thirst that only comes from finishing your desired prey or is it violently murdering an opposing foreign threat that stands against everything you love? For Jameson O’Michaels, a husband and father of his beautiful wife, Shannon, and his two boys, Cullen and Davy, his threat is lurking in the shadows and ready to pounce.

Jameson and Shannon met when Shannon was 17. Jameson was fresh out of high school, drowning through a stressful job search to pay the bills at home, and Shannon, well, she was head over hills for this man who made her feel complete. She always reminded herself, “how could I become this lucky?” Luck in the name of love was rare in the small village of Shokingley, Ireland where Shannon grew up. Everyone knew everyone. Each child grew up with those in the city, all 320 villagers in all. But where did Jameson come from?

She always found him to be so methodical as if he were born on some vast planet created just to be with her. Jameson, on the other hand, did not. He loved Shannon but always struggled to display his love to her because of his fear of damaging her even more.

Jameson had always loved Cullen and Davy. Not once had he ever skipped a beat when it comes to making them feel worthy and cared for even though village folk claim Davy is Jameson’s favorite. Some in Shokingley speak on how Cullen was a wedlock baby when Shannon slept around with some random fella from a surrounding village, others say Cullen was adopted. These rumors mentally shattered Shannon because all she ever wanted to do was protect Cullen from his real father. Jameson to this day has never been told Cullen’s father’s real name; he has only been shown one image of him in his mob uniform. The boy’s true father served in the O’Connor family mob, the rival mob of the O’Michaels mob, and of course, Jameson never informed Shannon on the matters. This is because Jameson is living a lie.

Every single night around 10 p.m., Mr. O’Michaels tucks his two sons in and prays for his children’s health and future. He then walks down the hall into the main bedroom, kisses Shannon goodbye, and enters his car to head to his supposedly third-shift factory job. This factory job was not ideal, according to Shannon or the boys but it was honest work for an honest man. What Jameson was really doing was completing his hits for the night, executing specific mobsters in the towns surrounding Shokingley. Whatever his believed to be dead father, James, told him to do, he was going to do. And oh, my God was Jameson good at killing. He was feared across the entire nation of Ireland; some called him “father of the slain,” and his family had no idea of the massive lie they had been believing.

Mob life is not meant for everyone. Not everyone can handle the stress and adversity existing amongst mafias, especially those in Europe. Jameson, on the other hand, was built for this life, was built for the lies, both said and kept, and knew how to be one bloodthirsty mobster. This knack for murder did not come naturally; he was not born with it. Instead, his father began training him in his youth on how to shoot a rifle, handle knives/blades, and find the easiest way possible to kill sorry bastards across Ireland. His father, James, trained Jameson with the mindset and fortitude that no man could ever defeat his son; little did he know the bloody hell his son was fixing to get into.

Oftentimes, Shannon would catch Jameson losing control over his anger. His inner rage displayed utterly terrified her: scared her to death. Jameson was no small man, very muscular, and chiseled as some would say. When his rage would get out of control, Shannon would recommend he go outside of Shockingley and go hunting nearby in the local forest. Sometimes, he would accept and sometimes he would ignore her and slowly calm his rage. Up until recently, Jameson has not ignored Shannon’s suggestions. He had been using her positive reconstruction plots of how to make him happier as a way to hunt his targets and other mobsters in the region. He always traveled on these “hunting trips” alone, never with anyone else. That is until Shannon most recently witnesses Jameson’s rage and offered for both Davy and Cullen to travel with him on a weekend-long excursion. Jameson was furious, informing Shannon of how shitty of an idea that was, but she was not having it, like most women. And off, the man and two boys went into the dark pit of hell they were entering.

The three filed into the truck and headed south, outside of the village and Shockingley, to a desolate lot of hunting land Jameson liked to call Mable. No one except for Jameson and his father and brother knew about Mable. This piece of “hunting land” was the primary location for any mafia executions and was tended for those reasons because of privacy concerns. As assumed, Davy and Cullen gnawed Jameson’s ears to the core, not allowing for Jameson to focus on the drive up to Mable. They endlessly chattered, to the point where Jameson was not able to notice a black truck tailing off in the distance. Behind the wheel of the black truck was the father of Cullen, Arthur, and he set out to take his son home and send Davy and Jameson to the hell he thought they deserved.

2 – TARGET PRACTICE

Jameson and the sons parked outside the small wooden cabin, 30 miles from the nearest occupied village. The three headed inside and made themselves at home; the boys set their eyes on every room the house withheld while Jameson took the lonesome opportunity to unlock his gun safe and load up just in case events turned for the worst. Snow surrounded the cabin and laid ten inches on the ground. Off in the distance, a few miles away was Arthur and his parked truck. From his set location, Arthur would have to make the trip on foot, to keep the O’Michaels family unaware of his presence, in hopes of him getting his only son back into his life.

As hours passed, Davy and Cullen began to be bored out of their minds. They begged their father to play some card games with them or even take them outside for some beloved target practice. The boys had never shot a gun, nor had they had any reason to. Jameson was not so persuaded that letting the boys shoot at irritable squirrels may be the best idea, considering the conditions. Nonetheless, Jameson and the boys departed from the cabin to Jameson’s nearby shooting range with painted targets on trees, wooden planks, and so forth.

My God, was it cold, thought Jameson? The clothing Shannon made him and the boys wear was not much help and did not hold off the snow flurries from continuously landing on their faces. The flurries made it hard to see anything off in the distance and not that it made any difference in the boys shooting ability, but they missed every damn shot. Literally, every single one. Davy was a better shot than Cullen; that obviously had to do with the superior, beast-like genes he got from his father. As for Cullen, he missed the majority of his shots, just like his real dad would in a shootout. Hopefully, that never happens, Jameson thought but he will be ready when the moment occurs.

Arthur arrived just a hundred feet from the wooden cabin and could not see any movement from inside. The cabin seemed desolate and looked run down from the outside. There was no way in hell this cabin was used for family events, nor was it used for any wholesome, humanitarian reasons. This Jameson fella had an agenda, and Arthur knew he was on it. As Arthur inched his way towards a side window of the cabin, he could barely see inside of the basement. From one angle, he thought he saw meat hangers but from a different angle, the meat hangers looked a whole lot like torture devices. Who exactly is this Jameson fella that is raising my son, Arthur thought? He was able to budge and open the window, granting a safe passing into the darkness of the cabin. For now, he maps out his plan.

Jameson and the boys must have stayed out firing their rifles for half of the day. Arthur was alone to peek at Jameson’s guns he left lying around for some vengeful man like Arthur to discover. From Arthur’s eyes, the cabin seemed to be a one-room wooden structure that contained a small kitchen, a tiny living room, and a massive gun safe, alongside the hidden basement that Arthur entered through. What really caught Arthur by surprise was the list of black cards inside one of the cabinets. To his demise, his name was lettered in all caps at the very top. All he could relay in his mind was the image of the meat hooks down in the basement that Jameson probably kept polished for him. May the best man win, he thought.

At any moment, Jameson was fixing to arrive back at the cabin with his sons. Arthur had to find a way to escape out of the cabin and find a neutral path that would exclude him from their sight on the trail. What he did not know was Jameson noticed Arthur’s camp two hundred feet from the cabin and knew time was running out for Cullen’s father. Jameson was not going to let Cullen have to dwell in the presence of some imbecile that lacked masculinity and the right to live. That’s right, Jameson was going to kill the bastard and enjoy doing it. He thought of Shannon in this moment, thought of how she would feel knowing Jameson was going to release so much rage onto this man, and at that moment, he knew, he did not give two shits.

Arthur was no fool. He bolted through the trap door and made a run for his camp, hoping to avoid running across Jameson. Better yet, he did not want to meet his son until he watched Jameson’s final breath being taken after he dragged him to the depths of Hell. Well, in life, you don’t always get what you want, and Jameson made sure to spoil Arthur’s getaway. As Arthur sprinted to his camp, Jameson and the boys veered out right in front of where Arthur was running, causing him to abruptly stop in front of them. Stunned, Arthur looked at the group and said, “oh my God, I did not see all of you lads there. I am sorry. I was just taking my morning run,” exclaimed Arthur. Jameson caught this piece of shit red-handed and could wait to have his day of judgment with him. Jameson responded, “no need to be sorry, go enjoy your run. I was just taking my sons out for some target practice,” stated Jameson. “I’m sure you cherish as many runs as you can get in considering life can be so unknown.” “Yeah, you are right. I better get going. See you fellas around,” yelled Arthur as he ran off.

As the boys watched this random stranger run away, they looked at their dad and said, “who was that man?” Jameson looked down at them and said, “no one you will ever need to worry about.”

3 – TRUTH

Shannon’s duties back home had not changed. She was still mopping around the house, arranging the boy’s clothes for their bedroom, and making sure all of Jameson’s personal items were kept tidy. If you didn’t know, living inside a village is not the most ideal when it comes to living conditions for a mother and her family, especially when they aren’t there to protect her. The O’Conner family mob was rough and the obsessive threat to all locals and even outsiders existed due to their lack of humanity.

Ever since Jameson left to go to the cabin with the boys, Shannon had feared for her life every night. She still did not dare speak to Jameson about her fears because she did not want to anger him about Arthur. She could never muster enough courage to be honest with Jameson and tell him he did not have the right to show so much rage towards one man just because that man cannot get over what happened with her in the past.

When Shannon got pregnant with Arthur, his family immediately began to exclude her from family activities and never let her officially in their family tree. She was a hot, busty blonde that was an outsider to Shockingley that had nothing. She remembers meeting Arthur in East Meddinsburg in a line for the next train headed to Shockingley. He stepped up to pay and insisted to pay for her also. From the first glance in his eyes, she knew he was the one and Jameson knew that. That is why he wanted to bury the man alive.

Shannon never informed Jameson that Arthur had no choice but to remove Shannon from his life. Since things had to be that way with his family, Shannon decided to make up a false story to Jameson to keep Arthur’s family's name tarnished and to make Jameson feel better about Arthur being Cullen’s father. She may have lied about her love for the man, but she knew how much of a badass Arthur was. One night, in North Meddinsburg, sat Shannon and Arthur sitting and drinking, ready to take on the world. They were oblivious to reality; in Shannon’s mind, all she could think about was how much of a gentleman Arthur was and in Arthur’s mind, he could not stop thinking about how badly he wanted Shannon. She knocked his socks off and caused him to keep dirty ones under his bed if you know what I mean. These two were in love, and other men knew it and wanted a piece of Shannon for themselves. One burly man, in the back with a huge beard and tattoos all over his body, stepped up in right front of Shannon and picked Arthur up, and slammed him right through the center of the table. The wood of the table cracked and snapped in split seconds, and Arthur’s head went bouncing off the canvas. Moments later, Arthur reached for a piece of wood and gauged the burly man’s right eyeball, piercing the wood almost to the tip of the man’s brain. Every man in the pub then charged Arthur, and Arthur reached towards his right sock and pulled out a Tommy gun, proceeding to put an endless stream of bullets through every man’s chest. From that moment on, Shannon knew Arthur could give two shits as long as he had Shannon by his side.

Back in Shockingley lay an outlandish burst of disgust in Shannon as Jameson’s only brother, Cillian, veered around the back side of her home. He wanted to be let inside, but Shannon never had to really deal with him unless Jameson was around. He wanted something, he had to of. Out of the prospering kindness of her heart, she opened the door for the fool. “What do you want, Cillian? Jameson isn’t home and I don’t have time for your deceitful games.” Cillian looked stunned by his sister in laws arrogance, “wow, you haven’t changed a bit. No need to worry, I am only here to speak with Jameson about a new factory job that opened where I work. Where is he?” Shannon stammered, debating on whether to tell him where he is but eventually gave in, “he is off with Cullen and Davy, at the family cabin. I only told you so that you could leave me the hell alone. I don’t want you in my home.” Shannon always had it out for Cillian; they never meshed well, and she always viewed him as an embarrassment after Jameson continued and continued to sweep Cillian’s theft and robberies under the rug. “Listen, Shannon, if Jameson really is up at the cabin, then I would love to go see him and the boys. As long as that’s okay with you, Shannon,” nodded Cillian. Of course, it’s not, thought Shannon but since he had enough courtesy, why the hell not? “Yeah, I don’t mind, but don’t let Jameson get into any more trouble with you than he already has.” “Yes ma’am,” Cillian said eagerly as he smirked while walking out of the door.

Immediately after stepping off the stairs following his plea bargain to satisfy Shannon’s desire to embrace high ground over him, he knew all hell was about to break loose. He got a random tip from a letter in the mail from an unknown sender, informing him that Arthur O’Conner was heading to execute his only brother. His heart raced and pounded, feeling like it was fixing to burst out of his chest. He had never been this excited in his 40 years on planet Earth. Yes, he had tortured and killed many men but never had he been given the opportunity to punish the only man his younger brother ever truly hated. Off he went to the cabin.

At this point, it had been an entire week since Jameson and the boys arrived at the cabin. Jameson had never been more tested in his entire life, not because of a madman preparing his execution tactics with his mobster family, but because he had to keep the boys entertained from sunrise to sundown. All they wanted to do was go to that bloody shooting range and ask open-ended questions like, “if I were to become a famous rugby player, who would I be?” On behalf of Davy, Jameson thought of a few stars that he could imagine Davy becoming but when Cullen asked, Jameson simply ignored the proposition. No matter how annoyed he got by their company, he truly enjoyed being around them. As they were playing cards in the den, they heard a knock on the door and Davy dashed towards the door, peeping through the blinds. “Dad, I don’t see anyone outside. Looks like there is no one out there,” as he cracked the door open. “Son, wait! Let me be the one to go out there,” said Jameson. As he opened the front door of the cabin in the middle of nowhere, there sat a letter on the first step of the stairs. The center of the letter displayed a black signature signed with the letters A.O. The bastard had found him and was coming for him and Cullen.

The very next day consisted of more target practice for the boys and endless concern for Jameson. How could he have known I was here, thought Jameson. Who told him? Right as that thought continued to overtake Jameson’s emotions, a man appeared well beyond the shooting range, far out in the woods. Jameson did not notice him, but the boys did. They directed Jameson with a dumb effort of hand waving towards the direction of the man. As they pointed him out, he began walking in the direction of where the guys were standing. “Boys, no stranger would be dumb enough to walk up on us out with no gun while we hold three rifles,” said Jameson. “Dad, is that Uncle Cillian?” “I’ll be damned,” yelled Jameson. “What in God’s name are you doing out here?” “Ah, I just figured I would come out and see some of my favorite kin. I also heard a rumor around the street that Cullen needed a real father figure to show him how to handle a gun.” “Hey now, be easy,” laughed Cullen. “Boys, do you mind if I speak with your dad in private for a few minutes?” The boys agreed as Jameson was led to the other side of the cabin. “Jameson, Arthur is coming after you. I got an anonymous tip that he was heading here to kill you.” Jameson showcased no reaction, just an odd coldness to him. “Are you hearing me, brother?” “Yes, I am hearing you and I know he’s coming; he left me a letter on the front doorstep with his initials on the front. I have yet to open it because I haven’t had the time.” “Well, we need to come up with a tall tale for the boys so that we can face him and his goons head-on,” agitated Cillian. Jameson agreed and as the two rounded the corner, Davy was nowhere to be seen. Jameson approached Cullen and said, “where is Davy?” “He went to take a piss a few minutes ago and hasn’t come back yet.” Cillian, frustrated with the kid’s stupidity, asked “you’re telling me your brother had to take a piss out here in the middle of nowhere, and you didn’t have enough brain to at least see where he went?” Cullen clearly messed up, but the boy had no clue what he had done. “Cillian, you go north of the cabin, and I will head south with Cullen until we find Davy. Let’s meet back here at dawn,” demanded Jameson. At that exact moment, Jameson knew his son was in the hands of the devil himself.

4 – THE DEVIL

The search for Davy was long and difficult. The terrain surrounding the cabin was very rigid and the majority of the ground was on an incline. The first four hours of the night seemed to pass like a speeding bullet; time was against them. Out of every search and rescue Jameson had been on, none of the lost souls meant as much as Davy did to him. Davy was Jameson’s little version of himself and his favorite of the two. His mannerisms, the way he spoke, and his anger issues, all resembled Jameson and Jameson could not imagine what he would do if he lost him. Who knows, he may just be lost, thought Jameson but more than likely that retched bastard is probably holding him hostage.

On the north side of the land, Cillian had yet to discover anything other than a few small deer tracks. He began to wonder what Arthur may be doing to the boy. “Stop, stop, stop thinking like that, Cillian,” Cillian said to himself. He was trying his best not to let fear control his thoughts, but it was so hard not to. He took a strong look at his surroundings and realized just how vast the land was. It felt never-ending, and Davy could be anywhere. Even through the doubt, Cillian continued to push on and noticed some sort of camp off in the distance. There laid a tent with burnt brush from a recent fire and a bag filled with clothes. As he emptied the bag, he felt a dense, rigged jar in a hidden pocket of the bag. As he reached in the bag, he began to feel his hands become moist and had some odd substance stretching across his palms. What the hell could it be, he thought. Come to find out, the bloody bastard has blood inside of the jar which must have been what he used to sign off on the first letter to Jameson. Confused and sickened, Cillian decided to stick around beside what should be Arthur’s camp in hopes that Arthur will bring the child right to him.

For Davy to be overweight, he sure had a large tank of energy on him because he would not stop fighting back. Arthur had never abducted another human that easily. Well, he never thought he would have to sneak up on another man behind while his meat was out, exhausting liquid, but there is a first for everything. Right at this moment, Arthur knew Jameson had to of been shitting his pants. He was probably imagining all the vile torture techniques Arthur would be using on the boy, but he did not plan on hurting the boy. He sort of liked the chubby little fool. All he wanted was answers and he wanted them fast. “So, what’s your name son?” Davy tried to spit on him but missed. “None of your damn business. All I wanted to do was to take a leak, but you kidnapped me. Just wait till my dad gets his hands on you. He’ll carve you up,” Davy said passionately. That claim had magnitude, thought Arthur but he now had an item for offering and that is what he needed to get his son back. If he had to murder the innocent child, he would.

Back home in Shockingley, Shannon began to have a sudden sense of doubt rush over her skin. Jameson never stayed at the cabin for this long. But, in all fair defense, his brother never made his way up to the cabin either. She paced around the home, debating whether or not to take the trip up to the cabin. She was not exactly in the best shape; she had slacked for the past few years because she did not have Jameson around from time to time due to his work with the factory. To hell with it, she decided she would make her way to the cabin but soon realized she did not have the proper equipment for that long of a haul. She checked her closet, grabbed her winter coat and her winter boots, then decided to observe Jameson’s closet. He would have killed her if he knew she was peeping through his personal belongings; one of Jameson’s life pillars was privacy. As she scanned through the back clothes rack, she noticed something silver shining in a small slit of the wall. She took another cautious look and discovered the slit to be a small handle of sorts so she did what any wife would do, she opened the handle. Inside the back wall sat a silver briefcase and inside laid a pistol with a silencer and several black notebooks. She was bewildered; why would her Jameson have a gun hidden inside of the back wall of his closet and why in the hell are their black notebooks filled with people’s names inside of them. Maybe Jameson is not the man she thought he was. All of this time she had been pursuing a new life away from Arthur, her first love, but for what? If Jameson has been lying to her this entire time about who he really was, then why was she wasting her time? She had to speak with him face to face, so off she went.

Dawn had passed and Jameson had still not seen or heard back from Cillian. He figured maybe Cillian lost his way back but that did not seem like something he would do considering the stakes. Jameson, in the heat of the moment, turned toward Cullen and decided to make a rash decision. He was going to put the boy in the basement of the cabin and secure every door of the cabin while he went off to search for his brother. He figured finding Cillian would better their chances of hunting down Arthur and ending this game once in for all. Besides, Arthur could not exit off the land without crossing the paths of both Jameson and Cillian, no way in hell.

Once Jameson said his farewells to his son, he headed north. North was the last route he needed to be taking. Up near the camp, 200 feet away, both Davy and Arthur watched Cillian sleeping carelessly at the base of the tent. Davy continued to beg Arthur, “please don’t hurt my uncle Cillian, I’ll do anything.” “Shut your ass up, all I want to do is talk with him and see where his mind is at.” As they approached and as their footsteps came more to life, Cillian woke and thought he was dreaming. “Is that actually you, Arthur?” He effortlessly wiped the droll from the left side of his mouth as he gathered himself. In a matter of a second, Arthur leaped on the man, stabbing Cillian two times in the leg as he wrapped around to his backside with a rope that Davy was attached to. Cillian screamed innocently as if he was the lone wolf crying out to its pack. “Your business is with me and my brother, not him. Let him go.” “No can do, lad. I want him here to witness this mediated form of torture. I play games with you, and you give me answers. That’s how this goes,” Arthur laughed methodically. Davy wept like a newborn baby, and Cillian sympathized with him. He wanted to cry with him but had to show integrity in front of his nephew. Cillian winced, “okay, Arthur, what do you want to know?” Arthur stared off into space, almost as if Cillian and Davy’s existence was an abomination. “You know exactly what I want to know. Where in God’s name is your brother and what makes you and your family think you can keep my only son away from me?” Cillian laughed. “You’re joking, have you been slipping some of that fresh Shockingley meth they have been making down in the city? You’re a piece of shit, first off and secondly, we can’t have our Cullen associated with your demonic family. We have had to bury far too many of our kin because of the chaos your family has created in our city.” Arthur chuckled, reached in his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette, making Davy light it. “This matter goes beyond personal feelings or attachments to souls that have already passed. I am giving you the option right now to help me retrieve my only son and if not, I am putting a bullet through Davy’s skull. The choice is yours.” Time stood still for Cillian because he knew this man would shoot Davy right in the face and not think twice about it. As the conversation ebbed and flowed between the two men, Davy used his pocketknife to split the knot in the attached rope between him and his uncle. As soon as the rope was loosened enough for him to escape the scene, Davy ran off, heading towards the cabin. Cillian leapt towards Arthur to give the fat child some proper time to run and the two wrestled on the forest floor.

Off in the distance, Jameson heard a gunshot and rushed towards the direction of the blast. He exerted as much energy as he could in hopes of saving the day and finally capturing his prey, just to arrive at Arthur’s camp with his injured brother attempting to nurse fresh knife wounds in his right knee cap. “Brother, that sick bastard bladded my knee and is heading towards the cabin after Davy and Cullen. Leave me be, I’ve taken worse blades than this.” “Are you sure brother? You think Davy will lead Arthur back to the cabin?” ‘‘You’re damn right I do. Head to the cabin, and I will meet you there once I get feeling back in my knee,” said Cillian. Clearly, Jameson did not want to leave his brother behind, but the hunt for his foe was nearing and Cullen’s fate was up in the air. Off he went.

Good God almighty, where in the piss is the cabin, thought Shannon. She was just right around the corner when she noticed the cabin and its bleakness. To her, it just seemed to be another wooden structure with four, weather-worn walls but to countless men, it was where the grim reaper resided.

She stepped into the cabin and felt darkness overpass her. She called out for Jameson first, yelling out to the top of her lungs but received no response. She then began yelling for Cullen and Davy. Little did she know that Cullen was downstairs hidden against one of the corner walls, clutching the rifle because he could not distinguish the voice yelling his name upstairs. Shannon checked underneath the furniture and in the lower cabinets just to see if her boys were playing a childish prank on her, but still, there was no one to be found. In her mind, it was almost as if no one wanted to be found. There may be a reason for the hiding.

Rushing up the southside on the land of Mable was big Davy and one pissed-off Arthur. Davy understood Arthur’s plan to not hurt him, but that ship had sailed, and it sailed fast. Davy neared the front of the cabin with an approximate minute difference between him and Arthur. Once Davy arrived on the front steps, he began to bang the bloody door like he was trying to blast his hand through it. On the inside, Shannon had no idea what to do considering she had only been to the Mable cabin on a few occasions. There were no windows in the entire house, so she could not just take a quick peek to see who desperately wanted to get inside. She shrugged, questioned her fate if she unlocked and opened the door, and made her decision.

5 - BLOOD

Shannon opened the door to a petrified Davy begging to let him inside. “Mah, shut the door. Hurry, lock it! Please.” “Son, what in the hell is going on? What has you all worried?” Davy attempted to get the words out, but all he was doing was making linguistic annunciations. Shannon looked at him, confused, and threw her arms up. “What is it!” “Some man named Arthur is coming after Cullen. He stabbed Uncle Cillian near his tent and is about to be here.” “Are you sure his name was Arthur? Davy, go hide in one of the cabinets that you can fit in. I’ll handle this.” Right in that exact moment, the door flew back in a flash, slamming into the wall. “Where is Cullen? Shannon, just tell me where the boy is and this will all be over.” “All of this will be over? Is that what you think, Arthur? That you can just come and take away my child.” Tears were streaming down Shannon’s face. “You mean our child,” Arthur screamed. “He is also my child and I have waited years just to get the damn opportunity to speak to him. Imagine having to wait years just to be able to speak to your own child! This is all your fault. I am here to take what’s mine.” “Even if I wanted us to handle this like adults, it is not possible. You are strung out on drugs, Arthur. I can’t let you see him, and I can’t even find him.” Arthur ignored her and began to search inch by inch for an access point to the hidden basement.

On an embankment 30 feet out, Jameson pulled a scope out of his hunting bag to attach to his rifle. Shit had hit the fan, and Jameson knew he only had around one minute to take his teaser shot at Arthur to give Shannon and Davy enough time to disperse out of the cabin. Once the scope was set onto the rifle, Jameson tried to get a clear angle for the bullet to fly into Arthur’s stomach. He wanted to immobilize all feeling throughout Arthur’s body as he would do to a deer out in an open field. He wanted to make the bastard feel his predator coming to him. As he lifted his gun for the stabilizing blow, he heard a ruffle of leaves behind him. Cillian had returned, clutching his knee with one hand and his stomach with the other. “What’s the plan, brother?” Cillian winced deeply. “I want you to take the shot. You were always a far better shooter than I was growing up. I am going to sneak up around the backside of the cabin, enter through the secret latch and get Cullen. I will then give a hard whistle which will be your signal to take the shot. Once the shot lands, we will kill him.”

Arthur continued to pace, observing every part of the house in hopes of finding the hidden staircase down to the basement. On the outside, Jameson wrapped around the backside of the cabin and locked eyes with Cullen as he neared the hidden door. Shannon looked agelessly at Arthur wishing she had some form of protection against him just in case the final fight between him and Jameson goes array. She knew deep in her heart that she could never harm him. Down in the basement, Cullen tried to be as quiet as possible while assisting his “father” inside. “Listen, that man inside the house is… um, your real father.” “That man up there is my father?” “Yes, and all hell is about to break loose. He has wanted me dead for a very long time and I desire the same fate as he does. Once you hear a scream, we are going upstairs, and I want you to stay behind me. Okay?” “Okay,” Cullen said firmly.

After several minutes had passed, Jameson stepped up to the ledge, stuck his head out, and let one loud whistle out. Cillian let out one loud yawn and as he reached for the trigger of the rifle, he was tackled from behind by one of Arthur’s cronies. The rifle was knocked out of his hand from the hit, firing the gun, sending the bullet into the side of the house. Everyone in the house ducked then bolted. Arthur went and got drug Davy out of the cabinet and held him like a human shield. Shannon was stuck in a motionless state as her body went into shock from her nerves. And Jameson, well, Jameson kicked down the hidden door aggressively with Cullen behind him and his Tommy gun in hand. The battle had just begun.

6 – VENGEANCE

A fair fight is one where both warriors are equally skilled and attributed in the same areas. When a battle to the death then involves love, the fear of dying becomes more than just reality. Both men looked at each other, eye to eye, ready to pounce on their prey. They had studied each other for so long.

In one corner of the small wooden cabin resided Arthur and Davy, the other corner resided Jameson and Cullen, and in the middle-resided Shannon, the woman both men loved. “Let’s cut this bullshit out right now. None of you have the right to act like this and bring my two children into your game of violence and destruction,” viciously yelled Shannon. “That’s right, Shannon, go ahead and stop this lunatic from making a decision he will regret forever.” Arthur grinned meticulously after making that statement. “Shannon, take Cullen and Davy outside and let me and him handle this like men. Quit looking at me like I am some dumbass. I’m not asking, I am telling you to take them outside!” Shannon desperately looked at the two men like both men were corresponding battlefields and she had to pick one to live. “It’s time that I be honest with the both of you about Davy. Before I tell you what I have to say, I want both of you to drop your weapons to the floor. Okay?” Both men laid their guns down to hear what the woman had to say. “Jameson, Davy is not your son. Well, not biologically. When we were trying to get pregnant, I ran into Arthur out on the town one night while you were on one of your trips and after a few drinks, we slept together. I did not think anything of it and yes, I should have told you and I am sorry that I didn’t, but I thought Davy was your son up until he was five when I could see the similarities between him and Arthur.” All four of the men in the room looked astounded by the news, blinking back and forth at each other as the news came out of Shannon’s mouth. Jameson stammered. “So, so, you’re telling me you not only forced me into an impossible situation with Cullen, but you did the same damn thing with Davy! I have spent years out of my own life devoting myself to you and these boys. How dare you keep this from me.” “Shut the hell up, Jameson. Quit your pouting. She just gave you an escape to devote yourself to your second life. I’ll take it from here,” Arthur demanded. Shannon reached for the silver briefcase and slammed it on the table. “Glad you mentioned it his second life. Jameson, explain why you had a pistol with a silencer and two black “death books” for your victims inside our closet. How long did you expect to hide the truth from me?” Jameson angrily shocked his head back and forth. “You are acting like the victim. What? Do you want me to say I kill people on the side for my family business? News flash, your baby daddy does the same thing.” “Don’t bring me into this.” “Is this your plan, Shannon? You want to push me out and make me look like the bad guy?” The anger in Jameson’s eyes had never felt so strong. “Tell me the truth Jameson. Have you killed all of these people?” Shannon’s screams could be heard throughout the entire forest. Jameson just stared through her, not providing an answer regarding the status of his past murders. “Please, just hand over Cullen and I will take the boys with me. I can’t do this anymore.” Arthur watched cautiously as Jameson handed over Cullen and escorted both boys out of the cabin. “So, you're just gonna leave and forget all I have done for you? All for this bastard?” As Shannon turned to look at Jameson one final time, Arthur quickly reached for a pistol buried down his right sock and aimed right towards the center of Jameson’s head. Jameson had met his fate.

The last memory of life Arthur had was the way the trigger of that pistol felt right before Cillian blew his brains out across every wall inside that small cabin.

The hunt was over. Jameson’s desire to feel Arthur’s warm blood rush over his skin had finally occurred. Both Davy and Cullen were left scarred for life with the deathly image of their father’s death. To Davy, this man was only a symbol of what life should represent. Cullen knew he was a lost soul waiting to be found, but his day of return was abolished. Shannon’s first true love had been cast down to experience eternal rath and she knew that, deep down. What about Jameson and Cillian?

Well, Jameson was not allowed to see the boys for several months, so he had to stay with Cillian for the time being. Cillian was blessed with the optimistic company of his brother as you can imagine. In terms of the family business, contract killings and mob hits had never been so sweet. Both O’Michael brothers narrowed their focus on killing every single one of the O’Conners that walked planet Earth, and they were successful in doing so. They were even progressive in their torture tactics, and their friendship had never been so strong.

On the fourth month of Jameson’s leave-of-absence, two letters in the mail were delivered to Cillian’s front doorstep. One of those letters was an explanation as to why Shannon could never let him see her boys anymore and why she wanted a divorce. The second letter was a letter personally written by Davy which addressed his inability to stop one of the O’Johnston boys from stabbing Cullen outside of the village. The O’Johnston family had a reputation for treating people like shit and just like that, Jameson’s hunt for flesh and blood was relit.

The end, for now.