5:30 A.M.
The Loop, Chicago

We're always watching you...
The world may never know who is truly beneath this man, or the power he has in the palm of his hands.

As I read the note over and over, it brought a bittersweet taste to my mouth. This wasn’t the first time that notes have arrived at my doorstep. It was only years ago when I was trying to live a normal life that the chase began. Now here it was, the bright hours of the morning, and I was clearly being followed again. It spooked me enough to leave my hour before the sun perked its head over the building in Chicago.

I left my penthouse suite and made my way outside, letting my hair fall over my face just in case they were still watching. It was times like this that made me want to.... get out. I was stuck though, and if anyone knew that, it was me. Everywhere I went, I could feel the eyes on me and yet, I couldn’t tell you where they were coming from. They were watching me right now, I could feel it.

“Bite me.”

I didn’t have to direct my voice towards anyone, I know they heard me regardless. I kept my pace and dodged into a nearby back alley, hitting my head hard against the brick wall behind me.

The tale was a strange one, not like any other story you’ve ever heard. The rumors and questions were always being asked, but I never answered them.

How did you become affiliated with the Illuminati?

How did you become the actual Godfather of the Illuminati?

What’s the whole story that happened there... what are we missing?

‘Mistakes’ would be the easy answer, but that isn’t acceptable. I was a man at the end of his ropes, looking for a way out of the sins I embraced on a daily basis. When people looked at me, they didn’t see the Godfather of the Illuminati... they seen an alcoholic, a drug addict, and a sex addict. They seen a man that got a different tattoo every week just to make himself feel better, but the tattoos told the story in a much different way.

The Illuminati opened up a pathway to my sins. They told me that I didn’t have to change who I was to lead them. They told me that they deserved to follow a man like myself. At first I thought this was utter bullshit, but they opened their arms and took me into the light. They accepted me....

So here is the story that everyone has been asking about and wanting to know. Just how did I become a part of the organization that I run today? What sacrifices did I have to make to get here? How did the Illuminati become such a blend in my life?

Stay tuned and I’ll tell you that story. The story of a seventeen year old boy that was rushed to become a man. The kid that had to skip the better parts of his life for something much bigger. The man today that is starting to... well, that would be a spoiler now wouldn’t it?

To be continued...

lronSight awoke on a random morning and checked his mail. The first envelope was from Mako reminding him taxes were due, and he filled it immediately and got his least important best man for the job, iocaste to deliver the money and a letter for him. After iocaste had left, he quickly pulled out three additional envelopes and headed out the door. He began stalking the Godfather from a distance, to make sure a presence was felt but not recognizable. Shortly after seeing the man duck into an alley he pulled out three envelopes and handed them to three bums he passed on the street. He then told them where to head to next and continued stalking his Godfather. When the homeless men finally arrived with envelopes in hand they had their question cards ready to go, began asking the questions they were instructed to ask and then walked to where the envelope told them to go. 

"I have no idea if anybody else is actually following him, but seeing him sneak around the city of Chicago all day is the closest thing I get to regular entertainment these days."

lronSight began laughing at his own joke, then looked up to see the men staring blankly. He drew his gun and said,

"Get lost, I don't have any more work for you!"

why is there no way to ever escape?!?!? always they know where you are!

December 16th, 1977
11:21 P.M.
Staten Rainbow Island, New York

The normal seventeen year old at least tried to enjoy their youth. I told myself that I was just growing up too early, but I never considered it a bad thing by any means. While taking on the responsibilities of an adult, I never acted like one outside of my very own element. During the day I went through the motions. Whenever I woke up, it was time to get back to what I labeled as my life.

A few days before this change, I ran away from home. My mother had a drinking problem that was uncontrollable. My father was weak and let my mother ruin our family as he just sat in the living room, listening to what the president had to say for damn near twelve hours of the day. I never thought the president had anything interesting to say. It was the same kiss ass comments that any other politician would feed you. There was no substance to his words, no emotion. Therefore, I gave it no care.

After watching my mother run my family into the ground, I decided that I didn’t want to go down with it. I was about to be cast into the real world soon anyway, and my mother reminded me everyday about how I had to leave when I graduated high school. So I packed up my bags and walked the fuck out. Why wait to be kicked out when I could do it on my own will? Watching her get the final kicks on my father was hard enough to watch, I wouldn’t like that happen to me as well.

My destination wasn’t a secret at all. I had friends I known in Staten Island. The thought of living in New York excited me, so I hoped on the nearest bus and said my goodbyes to Miami. The home that I would always know to hate.

“Happen to have an extra cigarette? I think I’m losing my mind over here.”

I was talking to some of the local natives of the area, trying to get a feel for the city. It took me only two days to get here, and within that time I still hadn’t thought about what I wanted to do when I got to where I wanted to be.

“Yeah, I got one. You need a light?”

I took out a lighter from my pocket before answering, clearly giving him the answer. After inhaling, I raised my head up to the night lit sky and let the smoke roll from my mouth. It was the most relieving moment since touching down in New York.

After talking to the man, I found out that he owned a chain of tattoo shops around the city. Once I felt comfortable, I asked the man if I could find any drugs... it was my true weakness.

“What kind are you looking for? The light shit?”

“No... Well... I mean, I’ll take just about anything right now, but I want something that will put me on my ass for a few days. Can you make that happen?”

The tattoo shop owner smiled as he looked around to see if anyone was listening in. He nodded his head to one of the nearest back alleys before knocking on the door. The door was connected to the back of the tattoo parlor, where a man popped his head out from behind the steel hinged door.

“This is... what is your name again, foreigner?”

“Mako.”

“Yes, this is Mako. He will one of your new customers, so don’t close your doors to him. He's a friend.”

Within the hour, my pockets were stuffed to the brim with drugs of all the sorts. With no money in my pocket, the tattoo owner invited me out for a few drinks at a local bar that not too many people knew about. My eyes narrowed and I was afraid my smile shown at first, but I accepted the offer. After the night of drinking, we made out way down an alley to find the nearest bus station at the corner. When the owner got drunk, he got chatty. So I walked with him and listened to every story he had to tell from childhood to where he got into the tattoo business.

The man was boring, rich, and abusing the law to make his boring rich life even better. It was sad to see people like him come out on top of the world, I thought in the back of my mind. Before we turned the corner, you could hear the bus pulling up in the distance. The man kept chatting away, this time turning his attention in my direction.

POP!

The gunshot echoed off the walls of the alley and were quickly replaced with the faint screaming from the people who heard it, and they recognized that it was a bullet. I stood over the tattoo owner before looting his pockets, and lighting up a cigarette from the fresh pack he bought me. Without trying to cause a scene, I patiently walked out of the alley and turned the corner in the opposite direction from the bus stop. With some money in my pocket and all the drugs I could ever want, I bought a room in the nicest hotel that the city of New York had to offer me.

The next morning, I sat up from my bed and reached over on my dresser for whatever I could find there. After lighting up the joint, my hand hit the clock... or so I think, cause it turn on the station that the previous customers had been listening to.

zZzzzZZz... Shots were reported on Rainbow Drive this morning around the hours of 3 and 4. Thirty-four year old tattoo parlor owner, George Kimel was found dead when the cops arrived to the scene of the crime. It seems to have been a robbery. The victim's money was presumed gone, but the wallet was left behind. It was also reported that the victim took one shot the head, suffering a fatal wound on sight. George didn’t leave any kin behind that are known at this moment. There are also no witnesses or suspects at this moment. If anyone has any information on this, I urge you to come forward and contact the NYPD as soon as possible... zZzzZzzzz

I had heard enough and I didn’t need to revisit the night before. I remembered it well enough. The radio announcement jolted my nerves a bit, so I went downstairs into the lobby and planned to get some fresh air to calm myself.

As I walked outside, I helped myself to another cigarette and closed my eyes, letting the wind hit me in the face. I started to think about what to do from this point forward, but I selfishly enjoyed what happened the night before. I couldn’t put a finger on why exactly, but it was the first smile to reach my face in what seemed like years.

As I drifted into my thoughts, a grey van pulled up in front of the hotel. People were watching on as a few men jumped out of the van and approached me. I reached for my gun, but only grabbed a handful of my own asscheek, realizing that I had left the majority of my things in the room. We were all in a standoff as the citizens and receptionist watched what was about to transpire.

“Mako?”

“Who? I dunno who the fuck that is.”

They didn’t seem to believe me as I watched them give a nod towards each other. One man stepped forward and punched me in the gut, instantly knocking me to my knees and gasping for air. I felt my a hand grab onto my hair as I was forced into the back of the van and handcuffed to a pipe. I didn’t even yell for help, I knew it was useless. If they snatched me up like that in front of everyone, they didn’t care who seen.

It was hopeless.

To be continued...