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| Le Persone Immortali Roleplay Awards | Started by: -SalvatoreLicata- on Feb 17, '08 12:00 |
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::Le Persone Immortali Roleplay Awards:: A young man comes out onto the streets, a cigarette in his mouth covered by a hat and a long coat. He walks over the streets to some poeple who gathered to a small crowd. He throws the cigarette away and steps on it. "Fellow mafiosi, I am here to make an announcement. Another award will hit our streets. I am pround to announce the 'Le Persone Immortali Roleplay Awards'. As it say it is an roleplay award, everybody is allowed to participate for the award. To get your further attention I'll start with the amazing prizes sponsored by our great leader Bruce Carrol and his family. Prizes: 1st Place - A bodyguard and of course the award 2nd Place - 500.000$ 3rd Place - 250.000$ A bodyguard, isn't that one hell of a prize? Worth a try people! Now we'll get to the rules, few and simple. Rules: - The story is either a lovestory or includes gunplay - Must be in character, of course - Other people in the stories can be fictional - Entries has to be sent to -SalvatoreLicata- till Wednesday 12:00 MR-Time, no multiple entries will be taken - Votes has to be sent to -SalvatoreLicata-, votes will be taken at Wednesday 12:00 MR-Time, not before, every person only has one vote. These are the rules, now a little further explanation to the award. The entries has to be sent to me, I'll read them on the streets anonymously, no names about the writers. The votes also have to be sent to me, and Thursday 12:00 MR-Time we will anounce the winners and the stories. To ensure some activity the prizes will only be paid after at least five entries! So then, get busy. I hope we'll have some fun while reading and writing these stories. See you soon." The man walks away into a back alley |
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"Consider me in Signore Licata" Smiles and tips his hat, walking off again |
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| Reply by: Genco-Buscetta at Feb 18, '08 08:09 | |
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So, here wo go, entry #1: The war The bullets are flying across the streets, the sidewalk is stained in blood, you hear distant screams. Its a very big war at the streets between The Bad as inc. and R.F.C, and both sides has suffered many losses, The Bad as inc. has lost many consiglieres, but R.F.C has lost their great leader Cathy_Parks. And so theb war went on for 12 hours and the war had nearly got to and end, and you are starting to choose your side after a essential coinsidence. You are at the HQ and are planning to bring him down with some of your friends. You have now worked out a terrific plan. And so, you and your friends went to NYC, to lure him there. So you messaged his temporary RHM and threatened him and his boss, and of course, he got outraged when he hears this, and plan immiedetely to fly to NY, and so you and the friends are at the hotelroom. Its soon time for the big event, and you of course, do want all the credits for taking him down, so you decide to ice youre friends, thay died a quick death. Now you took of to the airport, and there you saw him, driving his own car, alone perfect. You follow him into an alley, he stops and so does you, you get out of your car and aims at him. “Ive always said to you that you always had to watch your back, Johnny.” And so the sound of a gunshot, the scream from the man. And as Johnny turns around he sees a man laying on the ground in his own blood |
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| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 18, '08 14:32 | |
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A gorgeous woman approaches SalvatoreLicata on the street. Mr. Licata, do the stories have to be about events that happened in this world or can they be fictional mafia stories? |
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| Reply by: Bailey at Feb 18, '08 15:08 | |
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Smiles at the lady The stories can be fictional, of course. Just your own name shouldn't be in the story to stay anonymous. |
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| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 18, '08 15:17 | |
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Entry #2: (OOC: For every formatting mistake I have to be blamed) What Lies Ahead Current Time I opened my eyes, aware that something wasn’t right. I felt dazed, confused…sleepy even. There was some kind of commotion going on, but it was almost irrelevant in my current dreamy state. Noises were muffled, childhood memories flooded my mind. I felt safe. “Shit, man, get up! C’mon!”, I was aware of Paulie trying to lift me under the arms. The muffled noises became sharper with each slowly drawn breath. “You’ve gotta get up man, we gotta get outta here.” The bank was rife with activity; bodies were strewn over the marble flooring, cops and mobmen alike were shouting as much as their lung capacity would allow, bullets flew back and forth in distinct volleys of gunfire, the ricochets were worse….cover wasn’t helping much in that regard. A ricochet bouncing centimetres from my head, I had a sudden clarity of thought come over me in a jolt-like-fashion. ‘Shit, the bank job, we’ve really screwed up here’, I thought to myself. Looking around, even from my slumped position, I could see friendly faces heaped on the floor, apparently dead. Louie “The Fisherman” Tangarella, Tony “The Cap” Partezzi, shit, even my closest fella, Mikey “Trousers” Malicci, was down. Seven of us had gone in, I’d no idea how many of us were left. I couldn’t spend long surveying though, I needed to act if I was to avoid joining the fallen. Ducking behind the wooden cashier’s stall, Paulie was firing back blindly at the cops, who now had the entrance to the bank sealed off. There were now so many of them that even blind firing was almost guaranteed to snag one either directly or via ricochets. I felt I had to help and Paulie’s shouting was making it abundantly clear the situation was worsening. “Get up you dumb prick, fucking move! Lets go! I can’t lift you and fight off the filth at the same time, move!” Paulie’s latest cry, as he fired off another barrel in the general direction of the bank entrance, resonated within me. With that, I tried to scramble onto my knees. Only then did the pool of blood under my left-side become apparent. In an instant I’d passed out again due to the intense pain of a bullet wound to the side of my abdomen. Never had I felt pain like it. With my consciousness gone, my mind slipped into auto-pilot, flying over the details of the few weeks prior. The planning, the pattern watching, the scenario run-through, the role discussions. Not a detail had been missed. We even had a guy on the inside to disable the alarms in such a manner that it looked like malfunction. Nothing could go wrong, we’d been meticulous and this was going to be the one they’d remember us for. From here on in, we’d command respect. With the kind of money we were going to make on this score, we’d all be made in due course. All that was left was the execution of the plan, we could do it with our eyes shut. Earlier That Day The phone rang out over the tranquility of my flat, breaking my sleep in the process. “Hey, it’s Mikey, today’s the day, are you ready?” Mikey Malicci and I had grown up around Mulberry street together. We were thick as thieves, we did everything together us guys, everything. As we grew up, it was clear from our errand-running for the local don that we were destined for a life of crime. Why bother with school, we were having too much fun and making some pocket money too. “Sure I am Mikey, we’ve got this thing nailed, right?” “Believe it, buddy, believe it. After today, we lay low for 6 months. No scores, minimal spending, nothing flash and we’ll be clear. We’ll be there in 20 minutes, be ready.” Click, it went dead. After a wash and comb of my hair, I threw on my usual suit and trilby as if it was any other day. Just like most other days, I downed a quick Talisker before leaving. The only difference today was that we were making a trip to the bank. I heard my name being called. They’d arrived. Mikey was in the back. Upfront, Paulie was driving and Tony was riding shotgun. The rest of the guys were in Louie’s car with him. Louie was the crew leader, he’d already been made and was overseeing this thing. The plan was fairly straight-forward, intentionally so. We’d figured that the simpler we kept it, the less chance their was that one of us would cock-up. We’d been watching the bank for weeks, taking turns at noting patterns, activity, deliveries, pickups, anything that went on, we’d noted it. The bank was at its quietest after the lunch rush, but before the pre-closing time flurry, around 2.45 - 3.15pm. This was important because it meant the least number of staff on the floor, so again less chance of some hero throwing a spanner in the works. We’d be in with minimal fuss and out within 5-6 minutes max. The bank manager was also always on floor at this time, just back from his own lunch and showing face to keep staff happy, yet with minimal input from himself due to the quiet spell. Current Time …I faded back into consciousness, opened my eyes and slightly lifted my head to guage my surroundings. I soon became aware that I was being carried. My not-so-slight frame had been slung over Paulie’s shoulder and we were making our way towards the back of the bank, there was a flight of stairs in the corner. Al was keeping the cops from pushing closer in, firing indiscriminantly in their direction before himself making the hazardous run towards the stairs. All three of us made it safely, but the fact we were now heading upstairs meant one thing, and I knew it…we were trapped. Paulie carried me into the manager’s office and dumped me on the floor, behind the desk. The noise of the sirens beneath the window was deafening, but more than that the pain from my abdomen was an assault on the senses. Being dumped on the floor as Paulie ran back out to the stairwell didn’t help, but the pain was unbearable regardless. Unconsciousness grasped me once more, my eyes rolled back in my head and my mind kicked into overtime again about events gone by… Earlier That Day From my place, we headed to grab some lunch at a local diner, Cindy’s, which was also owned by the family. “Ok, so we’re clear.” commented Louie, “Straight in and fix the door behind us. Paulie, you’re on the door. Tony and Al, you guys get the staff calmed and aware that no-one will get hurt if they all comply. Mikey, Tess, you, he pointed to me, you guys are on crowd control. I’ll deal with the manager. Once he’s opened up the vaults and safes, you and Paulie you come help me pack up. The rest of you stay as you are. Make sure you stay aware, watch the door. If a customer or member of staff farts, I want you on it!” The faces around the table stared back at him intently, hanging on every word. “Understood??” “Yes, boss!” came back the collective. We sat through the rest of lunch in silence, each pondering his own role and eventual outcome. Shortly afterwards, we made our way to the cars, “Ok guys, 2.55pm, wait until you see me get out, then we go, no hanging back.”. Onto the bank they went. They’d sit outside for an hour or so first, just to make sure it was a routine day. It was, so far. The time arrived. Louie stepped out first, straightening out his suit before heading off briskly towards the bank. The rest of the guys had already jumped out too and were quick on his tail. In we went. Paulie subtly wedged the door behind him, no-one inside yet aware what was about to happen. Those of us on crowd control held back a moment whilst Tony and Al headed up to the cashier area. “EVERYONE on the floor, now!” boomed the d-shaped figure of Tess as he fired a single bullet towards the ceiling. Panic ensued, the dozen or so customers fearing for their life hit the deck immediately. “Tess! Keep the gun quiet will you! Mamma mia!”, Mikey should his head. Tess shrugged. The staff were slightly more stubborn, but for the most part had their hands up. “I think you heard the man, DOWN, NOW!”, instructed Tony as he gestured towards the 5 staffers behind the desk. Louie had already put the frightners into the bank manager, who was a quivering wreck. It’s amazing what a gun held to the temple can do. This one had pissed himself. “Geez, watch the shoes will ya!”. If anything, Louie always wanted to look his best. The next few minutes went beautifully. Not a peep could be heard from the customers. The staff had been contained, with the exception of one wannabe heroine, who had lunged at the alarm and had to be knocked out by the butt of Al’s pistol. If only she’d known about the planning and our inside guy, she could have saved herself the bother of a sore head. She had hit the button, but nothing, no alarm, no bells…perfect. Louie, Paulie and I had already started packing bags. We’d been in the place about 3 minutes. Little did we know it, however, that Tess firing a rogue shot inside the bank had drawn the attention of a passing police officer. Of all luck in the world, the bad stuff just had to find us today didn’t it. If he’d been across the street, he wouldn’t have heard a thing. But no, he’d heard it alright. Myself and the guys were blissfully unaware of what was about to unfold. Backup was on the way, and we weren’t out yet. We had 90 seconds maximum. Finally, Louie closed the last bag. “Ok, lets get outta here!”, Louie grabbed a couple of bags and gestured to the rest, who followed suit. Tess was first out, but as soon as he opened the door he heard distant police sirens filtering through the air. “Shit guys, lets go, they’re on their…”. There was the unmistakable sound of gunfire as the sole cop outside the bank front put a bullet into Tess’s chest. Tess buckled to his knees and fell onto the street. In an instant, Tony had closed the door again, at least giving us temporary refuge in the bank…the one place we no longer wanted to be. Before we could even assess the situation out there, the screeching of tyres and blaring of sirens had cut through us in a heart-sinking blow. The next 20 minutes or so, passed fairly event free. Broken only occassionally by requests from outside that we give ourselves up. Of course, the requests weren’t heeded, nor would they be. We had no ideas about how we could get out of this, but surrendering to the establishment wasn’t one of them. “We gotta do something, boss, the longer we wait the worse it gets!”, I exclaimed, as I made his way to try and gain a better view. Steering clear of the main doors, I tried to manoeuvre into a position where I could see out a window and get a cop count. Just as I’d started counting, I heard the sound of smashing glass and before I could react I’d hit the deck in agony. A cop on the opposite roof had been able to make a shot, so he took the chance. I hadn’t been as diligent nor as careful as I’d thought I was being. “Motherfuckers!!! No!”, Mikey darted to my aid, dragging me by the arm back to relative safety. That single bullet seems to be a starter gun for the ensuing battle. Suddenly, the bank was awash with stray bullets. Glass shattered around us, the sound of bullet splitting wood filled the air, the marble flooring bounced remnants around us at a terrifying rate. The rest of the guys joined me on the deck, taking cover where possible. The noise is the last thing I remember before falling into a semi-comatose state, my body going into shock. Current Time I awoke on the floor of the bank manager’s office where Paulie had dumped me. Struggling, I pulled myself up so my head was raised again the desk. I couldn’t be sure, but I felt certain I’d been awoken by a deathly scream from the direction of the stairwell. The door was closed though, I just couldn’t be sure. At that moment, a figure backed up against the closed door, hands aloft in a submissive pose. I could tell it was Al from the smaller body size and distinctive hat he wore. The scream must have been Paulie’s… Two deafening shots rattled out as Al’s body burst through the office door, shattering the door-set window in the process. The bastards had shot him rather than accept his submission and take him in. My eyes were screwed half-shut again. Along with Al’s body, the open door had let lots of evening sunlight in. My eyes barely adjusted. The silhouetted figure of a police captain appeared in the door way. “Well, well, well….what have we here. A final straggler!” He raised his gun slowly towards me. Almost as if taunting me, daring me to try and make a move. I tried to lift my arm, but it wouldn’t budge. Each inch the captain’s arm rose made me grow more frantic. Why wouldn’t my fucking arm respond, my grip on his gun was firm, but the fucking thing wouldn’t move. I couldn’t even will my arm to shift. Shit. It was too late, the captain was pointing the barrel down at my chest. “Unlucky son, not this time…”, as he unloaded multiple shots into my chest. My body juddered with each bullet, rattling me into action, I could suddenly control my arm. I sat bolt upright in bed, arm aloft holding nothing but fresh air. “What the…” I was sweating, a cold sweat. The police sirens I thought I could hear slowly morphed into a more familiar sound as I awoke from my slumber. The phone was ringing. I wiped the sweat from my brow and quickly ran my hands over my chest and abdomen, making sure I was ok and I really had been sleeping. Lucky bastard! I had been dreaming…well, it was more of a nightmare, truth be told, but still. A slight smile broke out on my face, despite my racing heart. Picking up the receiver, I answered the phone. “Yeah? “Hey, it’s Mikey, today’s the day, are you ready?”… …my heart sank and the smile faded from my face. Today could be a long day. |
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| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 18, '08 15:42 | |
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Entry #3 Now and at the Hour of Our Death I wore a simple red dress, the kind that wasn’t overtly suggestive but hugged my curves in all the right places. I leaned against the bar, sipping from my drink, my dark eyes scanning the crowd. I was not new to a place like this, not at all new to the dark side of the city. My family had been in the mafia life before coming over from Sicily, and it hadn’t taken long for my grandfather to get started up again in the States when he came over. I was tired of it, though. It was easy for a pretty girl to pull a job nowadays; all I had to do was bat my eyes, pull out my gun, and presto, a whole new tribute to take in for the family. But it was all the same thing. I tried to stay clear of getting too deeply involved, but I knew that I was destined to continue sinking deeper and deeper into the life I had never wanted to live. Flipping my long, black hair over my shoulder, I traced the rim of my glass with one perfectly manicured fingernail, still looking through the crowd. There was the usual bunch of gangsters and goombas hanging around, drinking and relaxing after a hard day’s work. But I was looking for someone different, someone to do more than spend a quick night with. And then I spotted him. He had light brown hair that fell over one of his deep black eyes. He was leaning against the wall next to the jukebox, casually smoking a cigarette. He looked as though he had just gotten off of work, with his tie loosened around his neck and his shirtsleeves rolled up. A small smile crossed my face, and I set my glass down on the bar before making my way over to where he stood. He looked up as I approached, and his eyes scanned my body. “Hi,” I said simply, leaning up against the wall next to him. He raised an eyebrow before taking the cigarette out of his mouth and crushing it beneath his foot. “Hello,” he said, half-smiling, offering me his hand. “The name’s Michael. Michael Stracci. How about you?” I shook his hand slowly, allowing myself to offer him an appraising smile. “Sofia,” I responded. “Sofia Linero.” His eyebrows rose and he asked, unable to keep a note of amazement out of his voice, “Linero? You mean, like the Linero Family? THE Linero family?” A flirty smile touched my lips, and I looked away. “Maybe. Would that matter to you if I was?” “I’d be impressed more than anything,” he said truthfully. “I know this is a Linero family bar, but I didn’t know that a member of the actual family would decide to come strolling in through the doors the one night I decide to come here.” Shrugging, I looked back over my shoulder at him. “If you’re not an associate of the family, what are you doing down in these parts?” Now it was his turn to look away. “I’m a member of Don Gaipa’s crew. I’m friends with one of your guys, and we were supposed to meet here tonight to talk about a numbers racket that our families want to collaborate on.” I couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t being entirely truthful, but I simply offered him a smile. “Well, as it seems your friend hasn’t deigned to join us, what do you say you buy me a drink?” “I suppose I can do that,” he answered, offering me his arm. A tingle ran up my spine as we touched, and my eyes met his, wondering if he had felt it too. We simply looked at each for a moment, lost in each other’s eyes. Then Michael looked away, cleared his throat, and asked, “Shall we?” “Oh! Of course,” I said, looking down and blushing slightly. As we made our way to the bar, Michael asked with a small grin, “Can I be clich here?” A look of surprise crossed my face, and I replied, “Of course.” “Well, then, Sofia,” he said, a bigger smile crossing his face, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” A Few Weeks Later I woke up, my dark eyes narrowed against the bright glare of the sunshine. “Good morning,” said a voice, and I rolled over to see Michael standing over me, already dressed and ready to go. He planted a kiss on my forehead, pulling his jacket on as he did so. I sat up, my face breaking into a smile. “Michael,” I said. Then my smile faded. “Are you leaving already?” Frown lines creased his forehead, and he sighed deeply. “I have to, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ve got work to do. You know that.” He kissed me again, this time on the lips. “I’ll be home tonight, but it may not be til late. Don’t wait up.” Then he was gone, and I was alone. I lay back against the pillows, sighing deeply. It had been this way everyday for the past three weeks. Michael would be out late and leave early. I knew he had work to do, but I still would have liked to be able to spend more time with him. Still, a smile spread across my face, and I thought of how wonderful those past weeks had been. My time with him was something that I could never replace, and I had never felt a connection like the one they had. It was as if he knew my thoughts and feelings, even before I did. Then again, I knew that I treaded on thin ice with this relationship. If word got to my father, or worse, my grandfather, that would be the end of it. And then that begged the question of just how serious I wanted this relationship to be. I didn’t know if I wanted to go all the way with this one, or if this was just for fun. I was startled from my reverie by the sound of knocking on the door. Frowning, I stood, grabbing my silk robe and pulling it on as I walked towards the door. “Yes?” I said, opening it. A hefty bald man stood outside. He had the look of one accustomed to violence, and there was no emotion in his eyes. “Sofia Linero?” he asked gruffly. “Yes?” I said again, pulling my robe even tighter. “What is this all about?” He didn’t answer immediately, simply grabbing my arm. “You’re coming with me,” he commanded firmly. “Your father wants to see you. An Hour Later I looked up at my father, very obviously not amused. “Did you really need to send an enforcer over to collect me?” I asked, raising one eyebrow. “Well, it’s a bit hard to know where your allegiances lie these days, daughter,” answered my father. He was dressed in a business suit, and held a cigar in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other. “From what I hear, you’ve been recently busy with a young mobster from another family. Is that right?” “So what if it is?” I asked, raising my chin in defiance. “It’s not as if I’m a vital part of this family.” My father looked down at me sternly. “You’re as vital a part of this family as anyone else, and I will not have you making our family vulnerable in this way.” I stood, my eyes blazing. “And I will not have you commanding me like I’m some soldier trained to do your will! I love him, and I don’t care what you say or think.” Turning away, he took a deep puff of his cigar before setting it in the ashtray on his desk. “You love him?” he asked finally, his voice soft. “Yes, Daddy,” I answered, reaching out to touch his arm. “I love him. And we’re happy.” He turned back to me, and his dark brown eyes were emotionless. “Then I am truly sorry,” he said solemnly. “I must forbid you from seeing him.” “You can’t do that!” I protested. He slammed his glass down on his desk. “I can, Damnit, and I will. This boy, this Mafioso, could turn you against your family, and I will not let that happen. You can do what you like, protest all you like, but if you keep this up, your little amore is going to find more than a death threat pinned to his shirt.” My eyes filled with tears, and I grabbed his hand, trying to make him see reason. “But you can’t Daddy. I know Michael, and he would never do anything to hurt us. Please.” He squeezed my hand, but he didn’t meet my eyes. “I am sorry,” was all he said. “I will do anything I have to in order to protect this family. Anything.” I yanked my hand away from his, fury blazing in my eyes. “Then don’t consider me a part of this family anymore,” I said, furious. “I’ll take my chances with Michael. He at least loves and cares about me—unlike you!” Running from the room, I covered my face with my hands and began to sob. Behind my, I heard my father telling his guard to let my go, and I felt angrier than I ever had. How dare he? “How dare he?” I shrieked only a few hours later, as Michael sat motionless on the bed. “How dare he think he can run our lives like this? He can’t! I won’t let him, I swear it!” In a fevered frenzy, I turned to him. “Come away with me,” I begged. “We’ll get out of New York. We’ll go west—to California! We’ll get away from my father and away from the mob.” “I can’t, and you know it,” said Michael sadly. “Maybe you can just walk away, but I can’t.” He turned to me. “Look, give me a few months, let me make some money, then I’ll buy my way out and we can go. Ok?” I seemed to deflate visibly, but I nodded in agreement. “Alright, I suppose,” I sighed, joining him on the bed. “But what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Michael handed me a rosary. “Pray,” he said simply. “Pray that your father doesn’t carry out his promise. And pray that we get out of this alive.” My hand closed around the beads, and I whispered aloud, “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…” A Few Weeks Later Either my father had a change of heart, or he hadn’t had time to carry out his threat. Either way, Michael had made enough money to buy out, and to celebrate, he decided to take me out to dinner. We made it through most of the meal without anything eventful happening. It was a quiet little restaurant, neutral among the families, but still frequented by mobsters. Michael and I kept our heads down, making quiet conversation and enjoying each other’s company. Suddenly, a man burst through the door, a gun in his hand. “War!” he shouted. “The Gaipa and Linero families have gone to war!” With that said, gunfire erupted in the streets. “Oh, shit,” said Michael, and he instantly grabbed my hand, pulling me upright. “Come on!” he said, heading to the back door of the restaurant. He looked around, then headed down the alley. “This way! A gun fired, too close for Michael’s liking, and he grabbed my arm, pulling me along with him. “Come on, we gotta get out of here,” he shouted over the noise in the streets. I ran after him, my coat blowing in the wind, and I yelled back, “Michael, what the hell is going on?” He didn’t have time to look back, didn’t have time to meet my eyes and explain. “Pirelli and I were running a numbers racket, but we weren’t exactly doing it by the books, ok? Your old man found out, and Gaipa found out, and all of a sudden it’s fucking war. Now come on, we gotta get the hell outta here before we both get shot.” But I had stopped, comprehension drawing over my face. “You mean you stole from my family?” I asked, yanking my arm away from him. “You stole from me?” “Look, it’s not like that—” he started, but I cut him off. “Don’t tell me what it’s not like, because from where I’m standing, that’s what it looks like to me.” I looked up at him, my brown eyes soft and liquid with tears. “How could you?” I whispered. “After everything…how could you?” His heart broke to see my like that, and he reached out for my. “Sofia—” Then more gunfire erupted, and he crumpled to the ground. “Oh my God, Michael!” I screamed, kneeling down next to him. A blossom of crimson was slowly spreading across his shirt, and he mumbled, “Sofia.” “Michael, you stay with me, ok?” I said, biting my lip as tears sprang to my eyes. “Don’t you dare leave me. You’re gonna be ok, I promise.” He swallowed, hard, his eyes already beginning to close. “I’m sorry, Sofia,” he murmured. “I really do love you, and I’m so sorry.” I gripped his hand in mine. “I know you are,” I whispered, as the tears began to course freely down my face. “I know. I love you too.” His eyes met mine, and he asked softly, “I’ll see you again, won’t I? We’ll be together still, won’t we?” “Of course,” I said, stroking his hair. “We’ll be together for all eternity. You and me.” It began to rain as more gunshots exploded on the street. Michael’s breathing grew weaker, and he asked slowly, “Will you pray for me?” I bowed my head, and said softly, “Of course.” He squeezed my hand once more before whispering, “I love you,” one last time. Still holding his hand tighter than ever before, Sofia cradled his head in my lap and began the words I knew from heart. “Hail Mary, full of grace” Michael’s breathing seemed to become more regular as Sofia intoned the ritual words. “The Lord is with thee” A single tear trailed down my cheek and landed silently on top of Michael’s head. “Blessed art thou among women” I thought of the time they had spent together, the time that had been so magical, and so tragically short. “And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” I wondered vaguely, abstractly, if they were going to Hell. Even with Jesus’ famous words of redemption and forgiveness, some of the things they had both done in the Mafia were beyond forgiveness. “Holy Mary, Mother of God” Sofia felt Michael’s head slip slightly, and I knew the end was near. “Pray for us sinners now” Pray for us. Pray for us even as Michael’s chest stopped rising and falling and the world grew black in front of his eyes. “And at the hour of our death. Amen.” Rapid footsteps approached, and a small, wiry man brandished a gun in my face. “Stay where you are,” he warned. “I don’t want to have to shoot a dame.” Then he looked down and saw Michael’s body. “Oh, God, you’re one of Gaipa’s, aren’t you? Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I gotta do ya,” he said finally. “This is war.” I felt the shot before I heard it. It was like a hot white pain that spread through my abdomen. I could feel my blood flowing out, and I knew that this was the end. I looked down at the still form of Michael and half-smiled. “I’ll be with you soon,” I promised, eyes vacant. “Wherever you are. I love you.” |
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| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 19, '08 05:34 | |
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| I'm noticing a trend here... | |
| Reply by: NWA_GANGSTA at Feb 19, '08 06:58 | |
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Just a reminder: Only about 20 hours to send in entries, hope I'll get some more. |
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| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 19, '08 16:07 | |
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Entry #4: Long Island - The Pepatto Estate “Sweet Mary, This is a real clusterfuck.” Alphonse Martano looked over at his Boss but said nothing, he knew than to interrupt his old time friend mid rant. “I’ve got my best enforcer locked up in the damn slammer, and I’ve got half of my family turning to the feds, what’d I do to deserve this Al? Sheesh.” “Don’t worry yourself so much, the Doctor told you that’s no good.” “Yeah, I’ll tell you what ain’t good buddy, I’ve got Jews on one side. I got Irish on the other side, and in the middle I’ve got my family. They all want a piece of me and my consigliere is telling me to watch my blood pressure.” Alphonse sighed and subconsciously rubbed the thinning hair on his head. He rose from his seat with difficulty, the arthritis had been a constant bother, and rested his hands on his Boss’s desk. “Well here’s an idea Genco, you get down off your damn cross, you stop being a martyr and work out what to do. Firstly, I’ve already sent down one of our guys to get Tony out of jail, it‘ll be easy to spring him. Secondly, stop overreacting; we don’t know who’s the rat bastard until Jimmy gets here so how about we calm down and wait, eh?” “Sure we can wait. Have we got a jury for Tony yet?” “Yeah, well, I’m waiting on a list from a guy I know.” “When you get that list, you let the people know that if they try to put one of my button away, people will see a new kind of Hung Jury, eh?” Manhattan - Jimmy Serafini‘s appartment Jimmy ‘The Butcher’ Serafini was renowned for being excessively violent, it was rumoured he had a personal portfolio containing momentos of every hit he’d carried out, though no one knew for sure. In fact, aside from his name, Jimmy Serafini was a complete enigma; so when he entered his Manhattan penthouse one night to find Salvatore De Vito in his kitchen, he was pretty pissed off. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Salvatore smiled and rolled a cigarette between his fingers. “Quite the temper you’ve got there, eh ‘Butcher’, you should cool off a little or you might get in trouble.” “Ok, let’s start again. What the fuck are you doing here?” Salvatore chuckled and smiled again. “My my Jimmy, you do have a high opinion of yourself. So you’re quite introverted, I get that, but you’re really so proud to think you could hide things from me?” Jimmy opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t have anything to hide, he just didn’t like people in his space, and this grease ball sitting nonchalantly in his kitchen knocked the breath out of him. The silence reached a deafening crescendo before the silence was broken by Salvatore’s vicious whisper. “I am a Capo in the strongest Italian Mob in the country, you think you could outwit me, eh? You dumb fuck.” Serafini’s shoulders tensed visibly, he was a bull like man and his tempers were fearsome, but Salvatore’s sardonic grin remained and he looked completely calm slouching at the table. “Nevertheless, you share the same goals as me so I suppose we’re together.” “What?” Salvatore said nothing and instead motioned at a small brown envelope on the table which Jimmy hadn’t noticed till now. His fingers twitched a little before he closed them around the coarse brown surface of it, and he ripped it open carelessly to see the contents. Telegrams, to and from the FBI. Pages upon pages, all with his name on. He calmly put them back in the envelope and stood silently. The men didn’t break eye contact for at least thirty seconds, before Jimmy easily hefted a chair into his hand and swung it into Salvatore’s face in an explosion of blood and splinters. Long Island - The Pepatto Estate The two men had been absorbed in their own thoughts for a good ten minutes before the shrill vibration of the phone cut through the smoky air of the room. Alphonse snatched up the receiver. “What?” “You fucking set me up you bastard!” Jimmy was yelling into the phone at the top of his voice, and Alphonse had to hold the receiver a foot away to even make out the squawk. “Where’s De Vito?” “He’s on my kitchen floor with a concussion, that’s where. What the hell is going on?” “Did you see the telegrams?” “Enough with the questions Al, either you speak to me straight or I talk to Don Pepatto.” “Did you see the telegrams?” Alphonse was settling into a routine, it was a talent of his to be able to keep his calm in any given situation, and he was exploiting it fully. He could hear Jimmy making an effort to control his voice, speaking through gritted teeth. “Yes, I did. Where did Salvatore get those from?” “Your office, I asked him to search your appartment.” There was no reply from Jimmy this time and Al could hear heavy breathing on the end of the line. “I asked him to search your appartment because Tony planted those telegrams, I knew Sal would find them.” “So what the fuck? I was bait for your little scheme?” “No Jimmy, you were a suspect. We knew someone from the Manhattan crew was leaking to the feds, and we needed to find out who.” “So it’s Salvatore.” “Judging from the fact you’ve hit him with a blunt instrument, I’d guess. What did he say?” Alphonse held his breath and Genco looked at him with fear in his eyes, Alphonse held up a finger. “Some shit about us sharing the same goals.” Alphonse nodded toward Genco and stopping gripping the receiver so tightly. “He’s the rat, finish the job.” “How do you know it’s not me, and I’m covering tracks? “Because if that were the case, Salvatore’s be dead.” “So if I’d have shot him, you’d have thought I was the mole?” “You never would’ve shot shot him Jimmy, I know you too well. Now go and show me why they call you the Butcher and swing by the compound later, Don Pepatto and I need to talk with you in person” Manhattan - Jimmy Serafini’s appartment Jimmy hung up the phone with shaking hands, realising how close he’d come to death. He padded into the office and removed his suit jacket. Rolling up his sleeves, he opened a draw of his mahogany table and pulled out a slim leather case. Unzipping it, he withdrew a serrated scalpel and walked back into the kitchen. |
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| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 19, '08 18:29 | |
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Time for entries is over, taking in the votes now. Thanks to those who participated, good job. |
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| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 20, '08 12:22 | |
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**Announcement** Due to few entries, Mr. Carrol and I decided to give you all the chance to write some stories one more day, till tomorrow 00:00 MR-Time. We've made that decision because, as stated, prizes will only be paid at at least 5 entries so we give you the great opportunity to still win a bodyguard. So get busy people, such a great prize can't be won every day. Regards, Salvatore Licata |
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| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 21, '08 11:43 | |
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Thank you very much, entry #5: Love and Lies "What the fuck are you talking about?" Tony asked and stared across his desk at his friend and associate, Ray as if the words he just said were a language Tony didn't understand. Ray had spoken clear English, but what he said was so shocking it didn't seem believable to Tony. "Your wife is a FBI agent." Ray repeated and watched the confusion on Tony's face turn into anger. "Her real name is Emily Sullivan, not Emily O'Riley like she told you five years ago when you met." "That's enough." Tony stated and held his hand up. He didn't want to hear anymore. He felt sick and didn't want to show weakness in front of his friend. The man sitting across from him was more than a friend, he was also a soldier in Tony's crew. For the past six years Tony was a Capo for the Bonetti Family. He had the best crew in the family. They worked hard and earned a lot of money for Angelo Bonetti. "Everything you do is a reflection of the family." Tony told his crew members often. "Always talk respectful and don't bring any heat to the family." Remembering what he told his crew Tony felt like a fool because he married a FBI agent. He wondered what they would think of him. They would surely never respect him again. He worried about what Angelo Bonetti would do about it. There was no doubt in his mind the boss of the family would order a hit on him. "Tony, I haven't told anyone else about this, not the other guys in the crew or the boss." Ray said as if he understood the worried look on Tony's face. Tony didn't want to die, but his heart already felt dead. The woman he loved and who told him she loved him only used him to get information for the FBI. The close relationship he thought they had was all a lie. "Thank you, Ray." Tony mumbled. He was grateful his friend didn't tell anyone else. Ray was a good mafioso. He wasn't a Made Man yet, but he would be someday. He already lived by the oath of loyalty and Omerta. "I can't do this job anymore, Charlie." Emily told her contact, Special Agent Charles Lawson as they sat in a coffee shop together. Twice a week they met for coffee for Emily to report information about Angelo Bonetti's organized crime family. Being the wife of one of the family's Capos she didn't have access to a lot of incriminating evidence, but she knew the names and structure of the family. Her husband rarely talked about business other than to say when a friend he worked with died or when he was traveling out of town to do a job. The little information Emily had to work with lately left her with too much time on her hands to think about what she was doing to the man she married and fell in love with. "What do you mean, Sullivan?" Charlie asked and put his cigarette in the ash tray on the table. Emily stared down at the pack of cigarettes next to Charlie's cup of coffee. It was the same brand Angelo Bonetti smoked. They aren't so different from us, Emily thought. The mafia are business men who used intimidation and bribes to get what they wanted. The FBI didn't officially break laws to get results, but Emily heard rumors about how some of her colleagues were involved in cover ups and bribed witnesses. When it came to killing the mafia generally only killed disrespectful and dishonest associates. It wasn't very different from the death penalty used in most states. Comparing the similarities of the mafia and the government Emily wondered if she was only trying to make herself feel better for being in married to a killer. When she was transferred to the FBI's mafia task force six years earlier her mindset was to get rid of men like Tony, not fall in love with him. "I don't want to contribute anymore to the Bonetti case." Emily explained to Charlie, "I love Tony. I don't want to betray him anymore and be responsible for his arrest." "Sullivan, this isn't the kind of job you can walk away from." Charlie argued and slammed his fist down on the table. "You took an oath to enforce the laws of this country. If you break that and quit working for us you become a suspect like everyone else we're going to nail. When your husband is arrested and charged with murder and racketeering you could be charged too." "I don't care." Emily insisted and avoided his eyes. "I don't care about the job, the oath, getting arrested or anything else. I only care about Tony." She picked up her purse and hoped Charlie realized nothing he could say would change her mind. "I have to go now." She stood up to leave and figured Charlie was probably thinking she didn't know what in the hell she was doing. Emily wondered if he was right. Hours later when Emily walked into the home she shared with Tony she took off her coat and hung it in the closet near the door. She walked into the den and was surprised to see Tony sitting on one of the chairs with a drink in his hand. "Hi honey, what are you doing home so early?" She asked and walked towards him. Before she got halfway across the room Tony stood up and reached into his coat to take out his gun. He aimed it at Emily and stared at her, his eyes were full of rage. "Do you like being a whore for the FBI?" Tony asked, his voice surprisingly calm. "I'm not a whore." Emily blurted out. She wanted to slap his face for the accusation, but she was too stunned to move. She couldn't believe he knew. Five years ago she worried about him finding out she worked for the FBI, but after they were married she was convinced he believed her cover story and she didn't worry about him finding out the truth. Somewhere along the line she fell in love with him and couldn't imagine him ever doing any harm to her, but now he was pointing a gun at her. Emily took a step back and said, "Tony, please put the gun down and we can talk." "NO!" He yelled and used the gun to point to the couch, "Sit down and shut up." "Tony, please." Emily pleaded with him as she backed up and sat on the couch. "Please let me explain." "Explain what?" Tony questioned. "I already know you work for the FBI, you lied to me and married me for a big case against the Bonetti family." "I didn't plan to marry you when my assignment started." Emily said and recalled how they met five years ago in a restaurant Angelo Bonetti owned. "I was only supposed to date you, get a few names of people you worked with and anything else that would help the case. I didn't expect you to propose to me two weeks after we met." "I guess that makes me a schmuck." Tony replied and paced around the room. "Son of a bitch! I was so stupid. I should have known better." "It's not your fault we fell in love." Emily said and stood up. She hated seeing him blame himself. She wanted to comfort him, but Tony pointed the gun at her again and yelled, "Shut up and sit down!" He paced around the room again after she sat back down. "I could lose everything I've worked for over this. If Angelo finds out he'll kill me." "We can run, Tony." Emily said and wanted to stand up again, but remained sitting on the couch as she looked up at him. "I quit working for the FBI. We can get away from them and Bonetti." "What do you mean you quit?" Tony asked. "How do you just quit?" "I told them I don't want to help them build the case against you anymore. I don't want to uphold the oath I took with the them because I love you." After her explanation Emily saw Tony's eyes soften as he looked at her. He lowered the gun and Emily slowly stood up. She approached him and touched his face. "I'm sorry I lied to you." She was relieved when Tony reached out for her and pulled her in his arms. Emily put her arms around him and whispered, "I love you." Tony kissed Emily's cheek and mumbled, "I love you too, but I won't break my oath." He raised the gun to her head and closed his eyes as he fired one shot. The End |
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| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 22, '08 03:03 | |
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Okay, and here's the last entry, entry #6: The evening air was chilly and Ivy walked down the street, purse held close, The green dress she wore matched her eyes, and was barely hanging to her knees, the neck line was low and she cursed herself for not wearing a scarf or jacket, it was cold, and the three inch stiletto heals were a bad idea... She stumbled and barely caught herself, cursing, and clutching her purse against pick pockets, Where was the car?? They said wait out side the bar on 26th and J street right? The clouds threatened rain and Ivy glared up at them, Daring it to rain, but afraid it would just to spite her, this was a well planned hit, she had every thing down to the right times, and the gems and jewelry in her bag would be condemning, whether the cops found her or the Blue Hound Gang. "Ivy Gal, Over here!" Ivy looked up in time to see her ride, Johnny and Brian coming to a stop at the corner, Johnny stepped out and his smile flickered to a look of confusion, his lips forming the words, "Oh... crap..." He falls over. Ivy can see the smoking gun in Brian's hand, and a cold smile on his face... Ivy stops in her tracks and stares in horror, then turns down the side walk and hurries into the bar... Oh god... Brian's gone nuts... Johnny's dead... Oh crap, am I next? She made her way threw the building quickly stopping at the bar and sliding a twenty to the bartender. "Another one of those if no one finds me, that ones for your silence if asked about me." He nodded pretending not to see her, she slid into the conjoined bath room and locked the door, and stepped over to the mirror, quickly changing, letting her hair down from the bun, flipping the green dress inside out, revealing the red silk underside, the green trim looked nothing like the nearly modest green party dress she'd been wearing. Quickly she smeared red eye shadow over the green and pulled the green gloves off, and looking in the mirror the only person who'd connect her to the gal who walked in here was the bar man when she slid him his tip... she gulped, glad that it'd been Brian that turned not her old friend Johnny, He'd be missed, but Brian wouldn't know her from the dame he'd seen out on the streets. she wiped a tear from her eye quickly and fluttered her eyes at the reflected image... Time to return to the bar and get a stiff drink. Ivy walked back to the bartender and, slipping the second twenty to the tender, she asked for a drink. The bar was shadowy, and glancing around, She looked at the door in time to see Brian walk in. Ivy stares down at her drink hoping he doesn't notice her, pleading with her neglected god that he looks past the changed dress and hair. But, no luck, Brian takes a few steps in the opposite direction and looks directly at Ivy. Without being noticing he gets right behind her and raises his gun to her temple. "It's time to go Ivy," he says as he places his finger on the trigger and Ivy closes her eyes, waiting. A loud bang is heard, but Ivy feels nothing. Am I dead? She turns in time to see Brian drop to the floor and Ivy looks up to see a complete stranger with a smoking gun in the air. Ivy looks down at Brian, laying lifeless with blood draining from his head. "You alright ma'am?" the stranger asks. She looks up at him and tries to fake a smile. "Yes, I'm fine, I think." she replies running a shaking hand over the back of her head, touching the spot the gun had been pressed. The man holsters his gun and sits next to Ivy and orders a drink as she takes a deep shaky breath then turns back to her drink on the bar, and tosses it back and pulling out the last large bill on her, "Make it a stiff one my friend, I need something to wash this away, heh, I almost wish I'd stayed home today after this." She stared into the glass as the barkeep watched her toss back several other glasses, until the smile on her face wasn't as fake, and she was barely able to stand, she turned to her Savior and smiled weakly. "Would you like to dance?" She says it quietly, letting a slur into her voice but also smiling slightly letting him know there was more to it then a simple dance, he stood and joined her on the dance floor as a load slow song came on, she leaned into his shoulder so she could talk in a quiet voice. "Hope you don't mind, that bar tender is well known to be mafia. He'll take care of the body, but if I let him catch wind of my name, He'd sell me to the next highest bidder. Thanks for saving my ass back there." "A man should never raise a gun to a lady." He replied, with out hesitating. "Names Ivy Rose." she muttered, still keeping quiet. "And he was my ride, Him and my old partner, I don't know why he pulled the gun" Might have something to do with the 10k in gold and gems in my purse. She said to herself, but not out load. "I work as a private eye, was hired to follow an old mans Dame for a few days to see if he was sleeping behind his back." Nice line Ivy now he thinks your a snoop. Ivy shivered, some what from the cold, but more so from the shock. "Sounds like a dangerous job. My names Ace." Ivy smiled into his shoulder, amused at the turn out. "So after all that, I had an wild ace in the corner, lucky me." Ivy glanced up at the clock and pulled away, reluctantly, "I must go, I have to get back to my office before the building locks the front doors." It was another lie, but close enough to the truth, she pulled away only to feel his hand grab hers. "Can I... Will you come here again?" His eyes pleaded and Ivy bit her lip, and pulled out a card, her business card and handed it to him. "Call me, I don't know if I can come back here." She said and slipped out the door, sad and a little lonely, but she knew she had to get out of there before the gems were found to be missing. A pair of coppers stood over the body of Johnny, and yellow tape formed a web to protect the body from contamination, Ivy walked by after a quiet look at his lifeless body, the gentle rain had cleaned off the blood and Brian's car was gone, he'd probably parked near by, explaining what took him so long to hunt her down. She pulled out the spare key's she'd picked out of his pocket before leaving his house, glad she'd followed her mothers advice, "If you don't trust them, trust their car, and make sure to have a set of keys in case something goes bad." Course her mum had been talking about dating, but she'd learned long ago that this work called for more then simple trust, you needed a back up plan for every thing. She found the car three blocks down, in an ally. It was unlocked, and the other set of keys where in the ignition, so, he expected to need a fast get away... she gulped and wondered what she'd gotten into, shaking her head she turned the key and listened to the engine purr to life. God, she wished she'd brought a jacket. Glancing around, she saw a jacket in the back seat... Johnny's, she smiled and wrapped it around herself and pulled out onto the road, driving carefully she headed to the docks where her boss waited, Hoping he hadn't turned on her as well. A pair of cars stood quietly at the docks with lights off, but as Ivy drove up the lights flared into the darkness. She grabbed her purse and tucked it into the jacket and stepped out, Her boss, Tony and 2 of his body guards met her in the glare of the three cars head lights. "Ivy Gal, Where are the boys? Johnny called us half an hour ago to say they'd just heard from you." He spoke in a quiet but strong voice, taking her arm in a gentle worried grip he led her to one of the two cars and sat her down. "Dead sir, Brian shot Johnny, I ran into a bar hoping to get away, he followed and one of the bouncers shot him when he pulled his gun on me. Long story short, I hung around the bar with my savior for a few minutes and skipped off to find Brian's car." Ivy shivered and pulled the blankets closer. The guys around her muttered angrily, but a raised hand from Tony quieted them. "Were you hurt? At all?" He looked her in the eyes, a father and his favorite daughter, and when she shook her head he smiled with relief. "Good, your mother would never forgive me if I sent you into a situation that got you hurt even. Tell me you got the gems and I'll feel so much better about this whole mess." Ivy pulled out the hand bag and the twenty some odd gems, each the size of her thumb nail, each worth at least one thousand, the biggest worth over twenty-five thousand. A quiet gasps escaped from the small group, and they watched in awe as Ivy arranged them on her hand from biggest to smallest and selected one of the smaller ones. "You don't mind if I keep this one boss correct?" She asked, thinking of the ring her mother had left her, with a quarts gem in its clasp. this one would fit nicely, and would make her mother grin. If she was still alive. "Keep it, you deserve it after this run, you can tell the others it was a bonus added into your promotion." She looked up in time to see her bosses smile, as she handed him all but the one. "Promotion?... you mean-" Ivy was cut off by the driver. "He means there's a party waiting for us back at the bar and that you should stop bumbling and get in so I can get the guest of honor to her Wise Guy shindig." Ivy grinned and glanced up at her boss who nodded as she tucked her feet into the car, still bundled in Johnny's jacket and the blanket she sat back, forgetting Ace and Brian for the rest of the night. It was two weeks later, Ivy was still using Johnny's jacket, and she hadn't heard a word from her savior, no surprise, probably a drunk who had forgotten about her the second she left the bar. She forced herself to forget him, and moved on. Her boss brought her into the deeper fold of the crew, took her on bank robberies, and jail busts and through it all she wore the diamond ring. It was a Saturday night and she was at home curled up, phone was on the hook and the tv was on, but she was to busy reading to watch, it was on for the noise. Ivy finished a chapter, stretched and turned off the TV, and began changing for bed, and the blasted phone started ringing. She stared at it... Trying to decide if it was worth answering... Ring It was ten o'clock for gods sake! Ring! Three rings Another prank call? Ring! Four rings? Shit, had to be important, She picked it up and a panicked voice was started talking fast. "Ivy, it's Rod, Tony's right hand, we need you down at the docks and fast, bring your gun, Tony's been shot, he's alive, but we gotta get him to the boats and there are allot of hit man around, Please say your in town!" "I'll be right there, keep the boss safe." The phone hit the stand and Ivy was pulling on Johnny's jacket and slipping her gun into it's holster the leather jacket was heavy and felt good, like a protective arm over her shoulders, she smiled, time again to join the battle. The air was cold, and tasted of rain, the clouds were dark and foreboding, and Ivy slipped into the boat house quietly, whistling a quiet melody known only to her crew, and approaching the small boat. Checking the boat for holes or leaks she jumped in and and began pushing her way out of the boat house, A sudden thump and the small boat rippled, Ivy spun and almost fell over, finding herself looking down the barrel of a familiar gun. she stared at it's owner some what stunned. "Ace" His eyes went wide and he put the gun away, "What are.. You.. Your one of his men?" He stammered as he reached out a hand to steady her. The boat had drifted out of the boat house at this point and was drifting away from the shore, there was only a few who knew the way to the bosses dock, via water. Ivy started the on board engine and stopped drifting. She sighed and turned to face him, a sad smile on her face. "So, we're at an in-pass, Do I pull my gun and let the sharks clean you up, or will you do the same..." At this Ace leaned in and kissed her. Ivy started to pull away but stopped fighting after a few seconds and fell into the kiss. As they pulled apart and Ace smiled. "I wanted to do that the other day, before you ran out, but couldn't get the guts. I'd rather not shoot such a lovely lady, and I'd rather not die, so, What do we do?" His arm had slipped under the jacket and Ivy turned away, settling down onto the boats captain's chair, "I could always claim that I ran into trouble and the sharks got the body, but the boat's engine was running low on gas, and you can claim I tried throwing you over board and you had to kill me. No names needed, I can even dump you in the water near a dock and you can claim you had to swim back to shore." "A smart gal, Sounds like a plan." Ivy nodded and began pulling the boat around, and Ace stepped in to stop her, placing a hand on hers, "We don't have to go any where yet... Can we at least talk?" Ivy closed her eyes and let go of the controls. "We are but Romeo and Juliet, destined to have loved and lost, if we touch to deep, we can never move on, if we brush to close, we're both damned to die. The longer we are together the harder it will be to deny. That we, a pair of Mafia hitters can never fall in love." Ace shuddered and pulled her to him, lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes, "Do you really feel that way?" His voice was husky and his eyes searching. "I... I feel that at this point in time we shouldn't be doing this, Maybe.. Maybe if we both live through this night, we'll come together again, but even then it'll be hard." She whispered, turning away and looking out to sea, though not breaking free of his arms as he held her to his chest, his cheek resting on shoulder. "I wish I could give up this life. Every day I find myself killing and killing again, even when I saved you I had to kill, though that was one of the few times I didn't regret, but I can't leave, not with my mother and brother staying in town. Not with out dying myself. So I stay, and kill, and kill and now I find that I can't even fall in love with out the mafia ruining it." Ivy was silent, though she managed to find his hand and squeezed, letting him know she understood. "I was 18 when my mother was killed, she was a barkeep, owned the bar and ran a drug run over the counter to pay my way threw collage, A mob man didn't like her prices and shot her over a small dispute. Never knew my father." Ivy talked in a low voice, letting her feelings hide behind old mental dams "After my mothers funeral I swore I'd find and kill the man who killed my mother, I did, and in doing so I was forced to hide behind my bosses coat tails, he took me in that day and trained me in the ways of the Mafia. I've been with him since." "I was 15, dad was a raging drunk and we couldn't keep enough cash in the house to buy enough food for all of us, one day he came home with a friend, pulled me aside and told me that was my new boss and that I was to do as he told. Heh, the old bastard sold me for a bottle of scotch." Ace pulled away, watching the eastern sky anger still readable on his face. "After my dad died, I tried to step out of the mafia, two days into my 'break' a man mugs my little brother and a notes left that if I'm no longer in the mafia my families fair game, I've been working with the bastards since." A quiet few moments passed but Ivy spun as Ace pulled her into a quiet embrace, his chest pressed against her back he pointed up to the horizon where the moon rose and Ivy sighed, "I used to sit out and watch the moon rise with with my mom." Sirens screamed off in the distance and Ivy swallowed, "It's time we be off. They'll be looking for you." "And, for you." his voice was quiet, and he stoled another kiss. They neared the shore and Ivy pulled the boat to a stop near the end of the pier, and smiled at him, "Thank you." she whispers as he drops into the water, coming up in time to see her laying her jacket and his gun on the pier, he pulls himself up, and slips his gun into it's holster. "Your jacket?" "Keep it, Johnny won't miss..." Ivy smiles fades as she backs the boat up, and Ace spins, a pair of gun men stand behind him, a gun in each hand leveled at Ivy's head and his chest. Bang. Ivy watched one of the guns jerk, and Ace fell to the pier, blood dripping threw a hole in his back, then the other, Bang! And she felt the world turn and fade away into the darkness. She could still hear, but it was fading quickly "Ivy..." That'd be Ace, He sounded so scared... "To think, Him with Her? I'd never have though the best two hitters in this town would..." Bang! "Holy cow, he lived threw that! Man you alive?" Bang! Ivy smiled, Her Ace in the hole, she relaxed, and let herself fade into the darkness, thinking pleasant thoughts about her mother.. |
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| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 23, '08 02:07 | |
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| Time to vote for the next 24 hours. | |
| Reply by: -SalvatoreLicata- at Feb 23, '08 02:08 | |
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| So many great stories, it's to bad this contest seems to have a bad ending RIP Bruce and SL. | |
| Reply by: Missy at Feb 23, '08 21:30 | |
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| Indeed! Well done to those that put the effort in. | |
| Reply by: Turk at Feb 24, '08 06:04 | |
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