The rise and fall of Garret Jax

[Garret Jax]

10 years later....

The man stepped out of the shower and loosely ran the towel through his thinning brown hair, another wrapped around his waist, skin saturated with water and heat, the fog the shower generated in the small cabin made it hard to see even his hand. Reaching up he wiped away at the mirror, the face before him was hardly recognizable anymore. Tight wrinkles and faded scars dotted his cheeks and forehead, the long ragged beard had done it's job, he'd run with the same set of identification now for a few years and he no longer heard rumors of people looking for him.

Reaching into a bag he pulled out a old pair of clippers, powered by a small and cheap battery they still did the trick, and he only needed them one last time. Flicking the switch on the side he was welcomed by the light hum of the blades dancing back and forth, wiping the mirror once more for good measure he began to run it through his hair, locks of hair falling to his feet, it doesn't take long before the hair and bear are gone, leaving only a dark stubble behind. Using the towel one last time he removes what hair remained off his scalp and shoulders, tossing the towel into the sink he left the small room.

The bed was bare, blankets on the floor, the room cluttered and tight. Laying on the bed however was a clean set of dark clothes, a holster with an unmarked compact hand gun and a new set of identification.

The image in the ID looked like the man standing before the items, the name laser etched on the card read Aurc Azur.

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I grimaced as I dressed slowly, age and the slow rejection from the cybernetics wracked me with pain constantly, pain killers and drugs slowly were taking over my life, making me dependent on them to even function. Part of me knew it was all a lie and a smaller part knew there was ways to deal with it all, but the big part of me..the one that wanted to forget all those who died before me; that part wanted the drugs.

I slide my long jacket on, covering the holster and grab my identification, sliding it into a pocket along with a small stack of creds. Moving to the door I tap the wall, killing the lights and shrouding my life for the past ten years into darkness. I turn and leave.

It's time to seek a fortune, or at least another hit.