The flames were growing brighter as the 14 children of Meadow Orphanage watched thier home burn to the ground. The oldest of these children was called Dusty. Noone knows his real name, the name comes from the old bomberjacket he always wore. A white bandana covered his mouth, a badly drawn fanged smile covered the space where the mouth would be seen. He turned to the group of homeless orphans and said with an almost relieved tone.
"Well boys, I think its time we moved on." he said focusing his sight on the red-orange flames that were slowly dying away. One of the other boys, Jack was the first to ask the obvious question.
"Where are we goin' Dusty?" He asked putting on his baseball cap.
"Well Jack, I'm not really sure but we'll find someplace im sure of it." He replied rubbing the orphans head.
5 years have passed since that event Dusty has become the leader of our gang, if you want to describe us that way. As for me, well i'm his righthand man you can call me Jack. The story ahead of you is full of pain and desolation, I wont sugarcoat it for you there is no happy ending and in the end we will still be at the bottom of societys totempole, this is a story of 14 orphans that almost toppled the towers of corprate America, a tale of the underdogs, a tale of bottomfeeders.
"boys, it's tome to take our first target!" dusty eclaimed tossing a knife into the wall.
"what are you talking about?" I asked.
"Were going to take down all the big wigs in this wretched city and i've got all the details on target numero uno!" Dusty threw a packet onto a nearby table. "his name is Gustov Malchovich, he owns the largest string of supermarkets in the nation...... and now were gonna get our cut of the goods! He sits at his table feasting while we are forced to live on the scraps that society deems fit to toss out!"
I had never seen dusty act like this before, after his rant I decided to pull him aside.
"Dusty where did that come from?"
"The man in the mask....."...