ByCaleb Posey, writer at Creators.co

"Dad, you've had enough to drink." "I will decide when I'm done, boy!" "You need to stop!" "Don't you yell at me!", Arnie said as he pushed his 18 year old son, Casey, to the floor. " I'm jus' trying to help." "Go to yer room." "Go on!" ".Just because Mom died doesn't mean you get to mope around all the time!" the boy screamed. "It's been two years, get over yourself!" Casey goes to his room and slams the door.


2 Years Ago

"Block it, block it." Arnie instructs his son as they play street hockey outside their NY apartment. "Yeeah!" cheers Casey as he successfully blocks his father's shot. Arnie Jones, goalie for the NY Islanders, was teaching his son how to play hockey, and it was going very well. "Alright boys," calls Marisa Jones from inside, "Dinner is getting cold!" "Be right there honey!" "Listen champ, you keep working on that block, you might end up like me." " Sure thing, Dad." There is suddenly a scream followed by a crash from inside. "Honey, are you OK!?" No answer. Arnie runs in to find his wife unconcious by the table. "Marisa!" Casey runs in behind him. "Oh my God, what happened!" "Son, call 911!" Casey grabs the phone and quickly dials. "Hello, we have an emergency. My Mom fell and hit her head. She is unconcious."

Hospital 3 hours later

The doctor walks into the waiting room. The man and his son stand to face him. After a long breath he gives the bad news. "She had a mini seizure and hit her head." "We tried as hard as we could, but we couldn't save her." The man, with a troubled look, gave a sigh. He looked at his son and gave him a hug. "We'll get through this."

Time passes and both father and son digress. Casey quits hockey and his grades plummet. Arnie starts drinking and falls in with Brooklyn's most notorious gang, the Purple Dragons. He lost his job and fell into debt, which he solved by doing jobs for the Dragons. Both were gradually filled with anger, and grew away from the other.

Present Day- Jones Garage- Night

"We need our money." "I know, you'll have the money as soon as I do!", says Arnie. "Hun will not be happy." "He may want to do something." "Son, go on home." "Why?" "Go." Casey closes the car he's working on and leaves. Halfway across the street he hears a gun go off. He runs back to the garage, but the doors were locked.

Darkness fell.

When Casey woke, the doors were open, and the body gone. It was his birthday.

For months he trained and hunted The Dragons. Armed with only a hockey stick and baseball bat, and face concealed by his father's mask, he stalks the city by night searching for his father's killer, the man they call the Hun.

He is Casey Jones

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