{crєdєɴτιαls}
listedlistedlistedMy full name is Alexander Galazzi
listedlistedlistedI am a Twenty-five year old Male
listedlistedlistedHeight and Weight Height: 5'7", 170.18cm. Weight: 162lbs, 73.6kg
listedlistedlistedI live in Detained, Private
listedlistedlistedMy trade On the books, I was the owner of my own book store. Off the books, I was a "mechanic". I'll leave it at that.
{pєrsoɴαl}
listedlistedlistedI enjoy the company of Women. I detest men.
listedlistedlistedI enjoy Reading, writing, the company of women, and occasionally singing (preferably alone) when I find myself in the mood. Oh, and I love rifles.
listedlistedlistedI detest Serial killers, rapists, drug dealers, cheating spouses, being bound, and imprisonment. And shotguns. Long story behind that fear.
listedlistedlistedHow I got here When I turned seventeen, I became a "mechanic". That should be enough said about my career choice. For those of you who are either ignorant, stupid, or both, a "mechanic" is a professional hit man, and they are very real. No, I am nothing like the guys from that new movie with Jason Statham and Ben Foster. I, instead, was a professional hit man who targeted a specific kind of person. Well, in that aspect, I suppose you could say I was a "serial killer". I targeted serial killers, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, et cetera. The common people thought of me as a hero, but the law saw me as nothing more than another killer on the loose. I didn't mind. I knew they would never catch me. I slipped by them each and every time. I policed my brass. I cleaned up. And I never left a trace. Some people called me a hero, some a ghost. It didn't matter.
To the rest of society, I was a model citizen. I always helped those in need. I owned my own bookstore and coffee shop within my store, though it was not as popular as Barnes&Nobles or Books-a-Million, but hey, I made it through. And people came to me quite often because, though my store was not as big as others, I was kind to each and every one of my customers, and eventually knew most, if not all, by name. We all held personal relationships, but nothing too serious. Sure, I had a couple girls there that I flirted with, but it was nothing serious. I didn't have it in me to get into a relationship. Not after my girlfriend, Alyssa Renee Caldwell, died when we were only seventeen. Well, let me correct myself. She didn't die. She was brutally raped and murdered.
And that's when I chose to become a "mechanic". What made her death so much harder was the fact that Alyssa had cancer and was dying anyway. But she died so many years early. And so I did my research behind closed doors, got my hands on some weapons and got professional training by some covert members I found that worked for Ammon. They got me training and weapons. And their price? Their price was, if I was caught, never to mention anything about Ammon. And I never did. After my first kill, the cruel son of a b***h that murdered my Alyssa, I had planned on stopping. But with a sniper, several guns with silencers, and other gear I do not wish to mention, what was I going to do? So, I continued my job, choosing to target serial killers, rapists, drug dealers, and whatnot. Occasionally, people found out about me and asked me to make a hit for them. I listened to what they had to say, and made them swear never to speak a word of who I was. Sometimes I protected families from stalkers, taking my time to, if need be, break some kneecaps so I didn't have to kill. If the individual was hiring me to take out someone for another reason, like rising up in the ranks of business or something, I left. And if they threatened to tell people about me, I shot them. Simple. It all went wrong when a young girl saw my kill. I had approached a serial killer, a man who had brutally raped and murdered several dozen women in this area alone, and out in the street in the middle of the night (only after I cleverly shut off all power to the neighborhood for making it completely dark) and accused him of murdering one of the young girls who came to my shop. He claimed he remembered the fourteen year old girl and was smug about how she screamed and cried while he raped her. Angry, I took out my silenced pistol and shot him, without giving him a chance to pray or repent or anything. My mistake was that I wasn't careful. A young girl, only eight years old, had seen the whole thing. An eight year old girl, who happened to be the younger sister of the girl I had mentioned. She screamed and ran inside, calling the police. They arrived on scene rather quickly, and found me inside the house with the little girl and her family. I had broken into the house and taken a seat on their couch while they were in the room, after reconnecting the power, and explained to them that I had no intention of hurting them and only waited for the police to come after me. After all, how could I run now that that little girl had seen my face. And as the police carried me off, I thanked that little girl for being so brave.
And now I sit on death row, awaiting to be punished for the murder of forty-seven confirmed kills, and another thirty something suspected. I have no regrets.
listedlistedlistedIt made me Into the perfect role citizen who had some skeletons in his closet. Or rather, a lot of skeletons. I had a good childhood until my Alyssa died, and continued working in my bookshop, being such a sweetheart to everyone that I could. I believed in karma, and I knew that I had to be a good person to people. You couldn't imagine how many of those women had asked me to date them, simply because of how I treated them. Each of my customers were treated as individuals, not people. They were who they were. Those dogs I put down were nothing more than just that - dogs. Many people came to my trial to protest against my sentencing, saying I made the city safer. But, of course, my a*****e of a judge said that it simply would not do, letting a convicted killer go free because of who he chose to kill. And so I was put on death row. I may be a private detainee, but I know some of my nearby cellmates, and I still treat them as my family now. They will be until I die. Especially one in particular, a girl who shares the cell next to mine and is joined by a window near the tall ceiling. I know not her face, but I know her name is Ariadne Odintsovna. She's the only girl I have ever sung to, aside from Alyssa.
{Temporarily Schizophrenic}
Community Member