A dark figure can be seen walking along the still blood stained sidewalk, his face hidden in the shadow of a hood, abruptly he stop's near a burnt out streetlight and lookes upward toward an old 12 story building, the man's mind flooding with memories from a long time past, he withdraws his hand from his pocket and reaches down to the holster at his side, he withdraws an old black and slightly rusted revolver, the BD insignia still visible upon it's hilt.
In the dark light the mans hand is visible, Thick black veins run up through the pale skin, he holds the revolver gently as he examines it, it's former glory all but diminished, the piece of equipment nothing but a relic now.
The man walks around the back of the building and in the darkness he approaches the wall, with his other hand he pushes on a brick and with seemingly no effort at all, dislodges it from it's place, he pulls it out and gently places the revolver in the cavity, he then replaces the brick.
He walks back to the front of the building, takes one last look at what was his only home once, then walks calmly down the sidewalk, whistling an old BD war song, never to return again.
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