"SKINNER"

The so-called region of Superior California - the state's northernmost area. Going this far north in Cali, the most populated city is Redding. If you drive half an hour south down I-5, you'll reach the city of Red Bluff, just recently passing the milestone of ten thousand citizens. In the late 80s - the decade prior - Red Bluff was tormented by the Felton crime family. A string of robberies, assaults, murders, many of them drawn back to that outfit.

Red Bluff's local police keep files on all known Felton family members and accomplices. Buried in that pile of documents you would find a file on Luke Felton, more widely known under the pseudonym Skinner. The family 'gifted' him that nickname after he skinned the first man he killed, a wolf. His father always taught him to be remorseless, but the habit of skinning he picked up on his own. At the time of his birth in 1966, his family was staying with business associates in a Montana lodge. Luke's mother - seventeen years of age at the time - had been brought along by the rest of the family to keep her out of trouble. His birth was not expected for another month, but fate had it that he should be born on a fishing trip. His welcome to this world was parental arguing on a creaky dock.

The Feltons, all bobcats, have a family business of sorts started all the way back in the 1880s. Wayne Davis Felton was a farmer before then. It wasn't very profitable. His father had traveled the Oregon Trail, just to drop dead from cholera only an hour after crossing the Oregon state line. Other than his mother, this left only Wayne and his sister. The two were said to have made a great couple.

The family settled up on an infertile plot of land to start their new farm. All the good land had already been bought up. So, after his mother passed, Wayne took his sister down to Jacksonville and went on to form the Felton Gang, robbing stagecoaches and trains. Along with this, his sister got pregnant with his son, whom they also named Wayne - and we will refer to as Junior.

Junior took over the Felton Gang after his father went ill from old age. Now, Junior was wise enough to see that the 20th century had no room for Old West outlaws. He moved his business to the Golden State. The Feltons became smugglers for larger organizations. Smuggling booze during Prohibition and moving on to gunrunning afterwards. The family got larger, Junior had kids and those kids would marry, dragging more souls into the business. One of Junior's children was Joseph Wayne Felton, the third and last Wayne in the family. Joseph was handed the reigns after Junior was killed by the mob. Despite this, the family prospered unlike ever before under Joseph. The Feltons became a criminal enterprise of their own. Joseph would have two children, one of them named Luke.

When Joseph died in 1979, under mysterious circumstances, his wife Jenny would take over. This caused an uproar within the family. Some were upset concerning the circumstances surrounding Joseph's death, others just refusing to let a damn woman control the family business. Jenny's supporters would head back to Oregon, and later expand to Utah. The remaining family would split up across California. Luke, now going by Skinner, would do business in Southern California, particularly out of Del Mar and down towards the border, before moving back north after a few years. He made quite the profit before heading back, however. If Skinner didn't split up from the family he would've made an excellent heir.

Now - back to Red Bluff. Still with me? The official number is 19. That's how many skinned bodies were found in and around Red Bluff. Though, Skinner recalls it being upwards of thirty. During his time up north, he would briefly run with his sibling, Ziv. Eventually, Skinner had enough. He hopped on his motorcycle and went back to Del Mar to meet an old friend.

Currently, Skinner is sitting on his bike outside the Deadhook Bar. Asking around Del Mar led him here. The bobcat is not fully visible in the evening light. A streetlight to his rear casts a backlit silhouette. His dark-orange fur is dimly illuminated, and the faint brown stripes marking his body, arms, and cheeks are barely visible. Covering his fur is a black denim jacket and faded blue jeans. He's about to head inside the bar, but he needs to do something first. He pulls out a bottle of painkillers from his jacket's pocket and downs a few - a new habit that followed him from his time in Red Bluff. Skinner leans his head back as the drug's effects kick in. Instant release, that's how he likes it. The bobcat deploys the bike's kickstand and heads towards the door.