The thing about my job is that, most of the

The thing about my job is that, most of the time, you start with a reasonably ethical motives, but end with unreasonably unethical outcomes. That's the problem when you

enter a gang. You see dirty streets and miserable people around you, you see police shooting down a kid and think "I can do better", and "I can clean up the streets". Until

you realize, you're already holdin' a smoking gun in your hand. There's a kid in front of you with a bullet in his brain, and a half eaten candy bar that you're starved for.

"How about a bite of that candy bar?" you ask. The kid shrugs, hands it over, and continues, "...as I was saying, the doctors couldn't take it out so metal detectors're a bitch."

The kid smirked as blood poured out of my mouth. Razor blades in the candy bar. The kid said, "Happy Halloween, hope its real tasty."

The kid's sneer disappeared when he finally realized his own blood was gushing from my mouth, whose fangs sunk deeply into his neck. Heck, this WAS turning into a tasty Halloween!

I tasted the blood. Quite bitter, I think, before walking away, ready to find a new target. I spot a kitten in the alleyway. Very interesting.

The kitten talked me into taking her home, and my life was never the same again. Cai was my constant companion, watching my every move. She knew my deepest secrets. Mum asked me,

but no one knew the way into my heart like my cat Cai. She claimed

that human are stranger than cats. Yet their hearts are similar: cold.