Forces pov:
The bags, The boy carried bounced, chuckled, and chimed together. The more he walked on the hard cement, of the sidewalk. The boys name was Forces. He wore a black lever hat, complimented with a white t-shirt. And denim jeans. Ghostly white skin covered his body. His left eye was normal. His right eye, instead of having a normal circular pupil. It was now replaced by question mark, that spirled.
☆☆☆
Forces sat his bags on the table, and then poured the contents on it. Some of the bullets fell to the ground, so an exact number couldn't be counted. 132 was a rough estimate. This should be more than enough to practice. Gradually, a faint smile appeared. He formed a hand signal, similar to one you'd hold a gun with. He slowing brought his hand to his right eye. Then, he folded and twisted the question mark. Into a semi-automatic pistol. Lastly he loaded his magazine with the bullets he bought. [His smile faded.]
...
''Police, officer spearos open up!
You can use a code name like Forces, but we all know who you are Gunny!''
...
'' Sorry dad.'' He mumbled '' Even though I don't want to fight, I'm going to live.''
He quietly said all this to himself, while he pointed the gun to the door.