ᴊᴀᴄᴋᴀʟ

“Jackal, what a coincidence.” A voice chimed, trying to suppress the anxiety creeping up his throat. “Or should I say.. 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨?” Jackal stepped closer, brows furrowed, his cold, calculating eyes studying his target. “Mikey,” He spat back, voice laced with malice, mocking. “Still moping in alleys, I see.” Jackal scoffed, rubbing his palms together with a swift movement. “All the better. No mommy or daddy of yours will hear your screams.” His eyes flashed with anger. “It’s Michael, you know that.” “Do I look like I care?” Jackal pulled out his pistol, aiming it at Michael’s chest. “I came here for a job, not a name reminder.” Michael stiffened, stepping back. “Look, I thought we were gonna talk this out-“ “Enough.” Jackal interrupted, waving a hand. “Don’t care. I’m getting a pretty penny for you. You don’t have to be alive for that.” “No, WAIT-!” The sound of a gunshot echoed through the alley. Michael collapsed to the cold ground, body limp, Lifeless. Jackal stared down at the body, pupils shrinking to slits. “No mercy.” •••Jackal, or Jack Starling, is a notorious mafia boss (ofc) and used to be a bounty hunter (idk) he is 32 and 6’1•••