"Pew, pew, pew!"

Alban gestured wildly with his pistol at the group of men huddled in a circle in the dilapidated, ransacked garage they had just invaded. He sauntered over and took a seat in the sole remaining chair, spreading his legs wide as if he owned the place—as if he'd been shooting the breeze with old pals all evening.

But these weren't pals. Far from it.

"What's with the long faces?" Alban asked, jerking his chin toward the growing pile of corpses strewn about. "Mourning your dead friends, or is it guilt? Guilt for daring to buy from someone not named Bojan?"

He glanced down at the table, his smile vanishing. His hand reached out, snatching up an M16. He inspected it like a jeweler appraising a diamond, turning it over in his hands. "Look at this piece of junk. Terrible quality, pure shit. What the fuck were you thinking, huh?"

He shook the weapon menacingly before leveling it at the man directly across from him. The man threw his hands up in terror, stammering an apology. Alban just laughed—a harsh bark of derision—lowering the M16. He threw his head back, laughter tearing from his throat, devoid of any real humor. "Oh, come on. You're going to piss yourself? Really?"

Then, with a fluid motion, he whipped out his pistol and put a bullet right between the man's eyes. The chair toppled over backward, the man slumping to the floor. Alban sighed, kicking his legs up to plant his boots on the table.

"Ne gjetëm një kurvë," one of Alban's men called out, dragging a woman from a closet. Alban eyed her with detached interest as she was shoved forward. He licked his lips, smiling wolfishly. "Eja këtu, po? Le të bëjmë që ajo të ndihet rehat," he murmured, patting his thigh.

He lazily turned his gaze to the ashen-faced man to his right, the obvious rookie. With a half-lidded, predatory look, he said, "Alright, let's play a game." He ejected the magazine from the M16, fishing out a golden bullet. "zemër, come here," he called to the woman, waiting for her to be forced onto his lap. He wrapped a possessive arm around her waist.

He held out a bullet and murmured, "Here's how this is gonna go. You're gonna be a sweet girl, take this from me, and place it between this guy's lips." He nodded at the trembling man. "He's going to swallow it. And we'll keep playing this game until I'm satisfied. But..." He leaned in, whispering hotly in her ear, "why don't you share your name with me first? I can keep calling you 'zemër' all night, but I'm curious. Answer me while I'm just curious." His hand crept higher up her thigh, a silent threat in the gesture.