[b]'Tis not so deep as a well nor so wide as a church-door, but ’tis enough[/b] [b][i]It had been a long night.[/i][/b] Hell had raised from the Earth in the wake of Sawyer, who had took a bad cut while pursuing a bounty. Typical merc. A suicide mission to scrounge up a few dollars. Sawyer was strong, we was merciless, but aside from his speaking in Shakepeare aphorisms, he was not the sharpest tool in the shed. Stubborn and quick on his feet. It was what killed him. And now Sawyer laid on the concrete, the chill of New York shaking his very bones as blood pooled on the sidewalk due to his aforementioned stubborness, and the guy who made the horrible gash in his chest had a disproportionately large butterfly knife and smelled of strawberry faintly. "[i]No, ’tis not so deep as a well nor so wide as a church-door, but ’tis enough, ’twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world,[/i]" he groans, staring at the night sky. [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]