A/N I'm so excited!!!!!!

.........

On his arms, there are patterns of ink.

On his arms, a story is untold.

On his arms, history thrives from beginning to end.

An untold secret.

A death.

And unknown watching eyes.

.........

Xerxes stepped into the clean cut tattoo shop with a brother by his side. He calmly stepped in being here once when Cobra was getting a tattoo. With his hands in his pockets, he fiddled with a key chain.

His forest green eyes wandered around the shop adjusting to the new scenery. His short black hair flopped on the top of his head. With a proud gleam in his eyes, his muscular tanned chest stuck out in pride with each breath he took.

"You ready for some ink, boy?"

He only rolled his eyes treading towards the designs. The one that caught his eyes most was an eye with calculated scribbles. An alluring tattoo really one that shouldn't and wouldn't have been taken for granted.

The eye symbolized what it had experienced. The terrors and horrors of life forever ingrained in one's mind.

All he saw in that tattoo was a meaning only he could understand. A lostness and horror only he had experienced.

......

Maybe that's why he got that tattoo.

That's why?

Because it reminded him of himself?

It might be that he found a greater meaning then just a tattoo permanently ingrained on his skin.

Only he knows now.

But how about US! HE.LEFT.US.TO.DIE.

We are nothing without him.

We are nothing TO him.

Did you forget?

He is nothing without us as well.

We lived with him, and We die with him.

......

'Kill, Torture, and Repeat. They fuck with the club. They fuck with you.'

Water splashed onto the concrete as a car drove by within the thick fog. Men and women strolled down the streets huddled together within the cold.

This was the night he discovered that the world did not need you. It never did.

Xerxes walked towards an alleyway with a solemn face. He treaded towards the compound defiantly. Opening the door, a strong of scent of alcohol and the stench of sex. The scent was a fairly evocative one stepping into the compound, but everyone had become used to it.

He hurriedly stepped past the women with skimpy clothes and couples. He shook his head nodding and motioning over to one of his long time friends, Bear.

Bear was a large man that typically gave great hugs hence the name. Bear was a friend of his for years. He never gave up on him. He was what Xerxes had called family.

"Where the hell is Cobra?" Remembering his 'father,' He shouted slightly fidgeting from all of the looks the men gave him. Remaining a cool stance, he rolled his eyes watching as Badger confronted him first.

Badger fidgeted a look of horror placed on his face before he answered. "He's-...he's in the-...uhm shed."

Badger was a small fidgety man that became nervous once accused. If you ever wanted information on anybody you would come to Badger. He was a badger of information known far and wide among motorcycle clubs.

Xerxes roared loudly, " Why in the world would you let him down there? You know he goes on a tantrum after." He gritted his teeth in a snarl.

Bear behind him placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll lead you to him." With a soft hum, he led the way.

Xerxes followed him quietly with his hands in his pockets. "Bear, what the fuck is he doing down there again?" Opening the door as he walked past he placed a thoughtful look upon himself.

"I heard that once the shipments of weapons had disappeared. It wasn't just coincidence. They found the rat who did it." Bear stuck out the keys that he was holding uncomfortably. Leading Xerxes to a steel door, he began to search for the key to the door.

The shed was a room of horror for traitors. On the streets, it was known as 'the room in which you never come back from.' It was a large house like building that was dimly lit on the inside. Even the toughest of men couldn't go in without cringing. Obviously he hadn't been in there many times.

...

These were only rumors.

The truth was far worse.

Why do you speak as though you know all?

Because I do.

.....

Bear yanked at the lock in frustration watching as the keys moved. "Damn it. These fucking keys don't work." He tapped his foot frustratingly.

"Move over." Xerxes muttered tired of waiting for Bear's nonsense. He pushed the door which almost immediately opened.

"Oh, come on! Why does this always fucking happen to me?" Bear muttered pulling and fiddling with a cigarette.

Once they had entered the room a unfathomable stench of blood reached their noses. "Why couldn't I be back at a different time? Why did it have to be right after the fact we caught the rat?" Xerxes muttered adjusting his eyes to the dimly lit room.

Bear peered in his eyes narrowing slightly. Focusing his eyes, foot by foot he carefully stomped into a warm liquid. Sniffing the liquid, his nostrils flared. "Is that pee? Fucking hell! I stepped in it!" Howling like a wounded dog, He frantically jumped up and down.

"Can you be quiet for a minute? Jesus, I thought you were better at being quiet then me!" Xerxes muttered stomping by a cell. Noticing grunts from one of the steel doors he nudged Bear who wasn't far behind.

The shed looked small from the outside, but hell it was like a dungeon. Fairly easy to get lost in if you weren't familiar with it.

Bear's arms shot out grabbing the door. Nodding in confirmation, he pulled the door handle hesitantly. Xerxes silently prepared himself to go in taking timid footsteps.

...

Nothing could ever prepare him for what he saw next.

He was prepared. Don't act like he was innocent.

He was not prepared.
..

A man or what was left of a man on his knees and begging for mercy next to a boy around ten who he knew very well, and the figure of what looked to be Cobra standing next to them.

A boy that he had practically raised with his own hands.

...

Piercing black eyes that had held no account of what they had done.

Watching as he murdered that man while they watched.

Those eyes will never forget.

.....

We will not tell you what he did or saw that day.

He kept this a secret so we shall as well.

Respect his wishes. He respected ours.

What is the use? He is dead!

A man's secrets lead to his grave, darling.