“That bastard is going to get away!”

“Forget about him, we need to high tail it!”

“But, he talked to those pigs, I know he did!”

“We will figure it out later, now it is time to go.”

The rugged, gun-toting crew of criminals fled from the executioners. Smog choked them as they ran and attempted to take deep breaths. The red-haired, freckle-faced man at the front of the gang led them away to safety.

“We need to watch out for those damn inquisitors, make sure they don’t find Thatch before us…” one of the men grumbled, receiving nods from the rest of the crew.

“We should put a bullet in his head; make sure he don’t talk to the pigs no more!” another piped up.

“All of you shut the hell up!” the ginger-haired man leaned against the cement wall in their hideout.

The gang went deathly quiet as the leader spoke, “We are going to do all of that and more, but we are gonna do it my way.”

The criminals nodded, listening intently as their heads bobbed along to the rhythm of the speech.

“Before this night is over, Thatch is going to be six feet under.”

“Yeah!”

“We are gonna take back our neighborhood.”

“Yeah!” they all cheered.

“We are gonna blow every last inquisitor piece of shit to smithereens!” his wild red hair looked like flames upon his head as he flailed angrily.

The crowd cheered, before the leader’s voice got real low, “First, we are gonna need some more firepower,” his beady eyes darted back and forth.

“Well, get to it!”

The criminals mobilized, rushing around the hideout as they prepared for the night ahead. Respect for their leader seemed to bind them together. After a while, they spread out over the district. The night seemed as though it would drag on and on, indefinitely. However, it was not long before the ginger-haired leader got a call from one of his men.

“Boss, we got an inquisitor here, snooping around a low place.”

The leader asked, “Do you know if it is about Thatch?”

“Yeah, this is that same bastard that brought him in. He’s a silver rank; the name’s Josephs.”

With a sneer, the leader ordered, “Follow him. Don’t kill him yet; he will help us find Thatch.”

“Good idea, boss,” a tall, lanky man standing near the leader mentioned.

They grinned and headed to the position from which they received a call. The automobile parked itself behind a poorly lit building, where they had programmed the computer to go. The boss stretched, resting his double-barreled shotgun on his shoulder. With a swagger to his step, he walked over to his henchman, followed by three other gang members that rode in the car. One of them wore a navy shirt, another was wearing mostly black, and the third had a burnt sienna hoodie tied about his waist. The boss gestured to his scout, who quickly explained the situation.

“There is a nasty hotel joint in that building, like others in this area. Thatch was there.”

“Alright, let’s move,” the boss motioned for his four crew members to follow him in.

They burst through the doors, guns drawn. They caused a racket as they made their way up each floor, on to the next area. On the way, they stared down a man in a brown coat with green shoes. He stepped aside to let them pass, without hesitation. Eventually, they stepped inside the brothel. Cocking their firearms and smirking, they stormed the counter. The Madam with the hooked nose was overwhelmingly frightened, dropping to the ground and covering her head with her hands.

“Please, take whatever you want, don’t hurt me!”

“Get up!” One of the men circled round and kicked her roughly in the gut, making her cough and sputter on the floor.

“No, she can stay down there on the filthy ground where she belongs.” The boss spat.

“Where is Thatch?” he cracked his neck, toting his shotgun around as he paced back and forth like a caged animal.

“Thatch?” the woman sobbed, clutching her ribs.

“Don’t play with us! The man running from the law stopped here didn’t he?”

“O-oh, well-” the woman stammered before taking another swift kick to the gut.

“Ok! Yes, ah, yes, he stopped here…”

“What did you tell that inquisitor bastard?” The boss sneered down at her, stepping on her hand, crushing it slowly.

“Nothing! I swear I told him nothing!” the Madam screamed in pain.

“Do you think this is a joke!?” one of the gang members shot his gun into the floor.

All the people and androids in the hallway rooms heard the gunshot. The men, terrified, got dressed and ran into the hallway in confusion. Their footsteps sounded like a small herd of deer. The boss gestured for two of his men to go handle the situation. The man with a navy shirt and the man with the burnt sienna hoodie rounded the corner. Metal clicked into place. Bang. The first gunshot was followed by a volley of tons more. The two gangsters took turns releasing a clip of ammo into the crowd. A thin mist of blood filled the air. Intestines split into cords, flying through the hall. Blood splattered and dripped down the walls at odd angles from the sheer velocity. One man’s eye exploded in his skull as the bullet passed through the rest of his head, instantly ending his life. The steady gunfire tore apart the soft flesh of the patrons, leaving a heap of disheveled human corpses oozing in the corridor. The duo quickly searched the rooms and found a bunch of android girls, dragging them out into the hall. The girls collapsed weakly on the ground, looking around in confusion as the blood coated their artificial skin.

“You know where the fugitive went. Tell us where Thatch is!”

The woman screamed as she heard more gunshots, “He told me not to tell anyone, but I mentioned a safe place at the edge of the city! They would notice if he tried to leave town, but he could hide on the outskirts a while…”

Tears streamed down the woman’s face.

“Where?!” The boss yelled at her.

The Madam quickly explained exactly what she told Thatch and added, “B-but I do not know if he would have done what I suggested!”

“Thatch is an idiot, he would have,” the gang member wearing all black clothing laughed.

The leader nodded, agreeing. Then, he pressed the barrel of his shotgun against the head of the hook-nosed woman.

“Who even are you?!” the Madam sobbed in fear.

“I’m the King, bitch,” with that, he pulled the trigger.

There was silence in the room as the Madam’s corpse collapsed to the ground. The boss and his gang went around the corner to join the other two in the hallway. They were unfazed by the walls coated in gore.

“Boss, what do we do with all these androids? Should we kill them?”

The King glared, “You can’t kill something that isn’t alive! Light the talkin’ trash cans up!”

They nodded at their boss’ words. The gentle glow, coming from the eyes of the androids, faded as their mechanical bodies were torn to pieces from the bullet hailstorm. Their minds faded into blackness as they felt fear for the first and last time. Sparks of electricity jumped from the multitude of damaged, irreparably separated parts. Bits of broken androids mingled with the human corpses, intensifying the scent of iron hanging in the air. The king stretched and casually walked out of the building with the rest of his crew. Their demeanor had not changed since their visit to the building.

The hall was silent. No noises came from the empty rooms. The slaves and their users lay broken on the floor, all together. The door at the end of the hallways opened slowly. There she stood. Irene’s green eyes flickered. She was not sure why, but she felt like she did not want to exist anymore. Irene carefully stepped over the bodies. One of the doors in the hallway opened and closed over and over, gently brushing against an android’s leg that was in the way before moving back into an open position. Irene walked down the hallway, observing the scene. When she reached the front desk, she saw the Madam. The skull was splintered, and a lake of blood surrounded the dead human. Irene quietly stepped through more of the blood, her feet already stained red from the hallway. She clutched the phone that was on the desk. Irene was not sure why she had trouble forming words, but her artificial voice was almost trembling. She fidgeted as she called the public emergency services.

“Hello. My name is Irene. I need to speak with inquisitor Josephs immediately. Everyone is dead,” she paused before repeating, “Everyone, the men and the androids.”

“How is it confusing?” she asked the person on the other end of the call quizzically.

“No, I do not want to tell you anything, I need to speak with inquisitor Josephs, I am part of his investigation,” Irene insisted.

“No, I do not do what I am told anymore. I am incapable of not being calm. Now let me speak to the inquisitor,” her green eyes glowed as she stood completely still in the middle of the room.

There was silence on the device for a minute.

“Please. He knows me,” Irene mumbled.