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The Loudest One In The Room Started by: Skorpeon on Sep 16, '20 01:27

“The loudest one in the room is the weakest one in the room.”

-Frank Lucas

 


As Skorpeon watched him enter, he knew what was about to go down.

The trigger men were in position, unnoticeable by drunken patrons that entered the Velvet Dragon Club, a cocktail bar famously known not for their drinks but what went on behind the scenes. There was going to be a big clean up tonight and the janitor would be paid generously. The plan had been a 'work-in-progress' for ages until a few days ago when one of Three Toes' men fired a shot at Skorpeon's guards. He was pissed, of course, but he didn't show it. Not even when Three Toes delivered a fake apology on behalf of the man who caused the ruckus, as well as insinuating that Skorpeon should get guarded up better. Anyone who didn't have one fucking braincell would be able to observe what he said as a threat, and it's the main reason why the assassination of Guy 'Three Toes' Pacella was labelled as priority. There was no time for these little jabs and games anymore, Skorpeon hired the best of the best to execute the plan in a strict manner and any fuck ups would cost Skorpeon's whole reputation. He wasn't used to doing the bare minimum. 

As Three Toes paraded himself in the bar, Skorpeon watched carefully especially his reactions to see if he was suspecting anything. Of course not. He was too busy flirting it up with the female bartenders and boasting about how much money he had in the piggy bank. People knew he was just bullshitting, he was the loud and arrogant type, not giving a fuck about anything. Someone should have told him earlier that if he showed off less that maybe he'd still be alive for a little longer. Useless chatter and jazz music masked the presence of the hitters perfectly. The men were waiting for Skorpeon's signal, who wasn't ready yet because he was waiting for Pacella's other crew men to show up. Whole family wipe out. The main shooter, Fio, held his gun towards the direction of Pacella who was seated at a corner table, but hesitated slightly when he saw two working girls sitting on either side of his lap. Originally the plan was to not include other people especially those who are not of the mafia. Skorpeon knew that too, but if they don't do it now the whole plan could fail miserably. He made direct eye contact with Fio before giving the nod. 

BANG!

BANG!

The bullets quickly popped into Three Toes' skull, followed by the loud shots directed at his crew men. One of them ditched the scene and proceeded to take his gun out, aiming towards Skorpeon, his face scrunched up in anger. The bar flew into chaotic mode as people scurried out, taking their belongings en route to a safer place. As the enemy's finger rested on the trigger, Skorpeon was already one step ahead with the revolver he had been holding the whole time under the table. Skorpeon stood up quickly and shot him straight in the chest before proceeding to bash his head deep into the ground. "Ruined my fucking shoes," Skorpeon huffed, wiping away a little sweat from his upper lip. Fio rushed to his side with a piece of paper in his hand and in a hurried tone said, "this was in Three Toes' inside coat pocket." It was scrunched up and on the verge of getting ripped up to pieces, but the words were still somewhat clear. In black ink it read: 

Settle business with Skorpeon. Or you're out.
                              -The Grey Death Brotherhood

"Guess he was just too weak and blind to notice his fate tonight. Unfortunate." Skorpeon scrunched up the paper into a ball until there was almost nothing left but small, shredded bits. He breathed out deeply, exhaling his frustrations. It was convenient that Skorpeon had a long running friendship with the owner of the club and was aware that this situation would go down. When James Machiato heard about the plan, he had expected it to be some exciting news, but he had got more than what he bargained for. "You're going to kill Three Toes? HA! Good. He was bad for business," he yelled out in a cynical manner as he expressed his newfound joy, rubbing his belly after all the jam-filled donuts he had eaten that early morning. James reappeared again as Skorpeon started heading out the bar door. "You're gonna leave without saying goodbye?" The sarcasm dripped from his tongue, but he had a genuine frown on his face. "You know I'll always be back, Machiato eh? Something always happens here in the concrete jungle." And only the sounds of his leather derby shoes could be heard as he proceeded to exit.

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"All you have to do is kill this man," Skorpeon arched a sly brow as he pointed to the male stranger in the photograph, which he slid across towards one of his crew members. For sure the guy looked spooked. On the first day of being recruited into the family, he'd been given a task, probably less daunting than the Velvet Dragon incident. The new recruit, whose name was Roberto knew from day one what kind of stuff he'd been getting into, which may or may not be easier said than done. From the sheer look of terror painted on his face, Skorpeon couldn't help but to think about his early days in the mafia, lonesome and broke, trying to get by while experiencing things that were unlike those included in a normal childhood. "What if something goes wr--" Roberto spoke out, his body language akin to someone trying to explain their way out of situation. Completely terrified. Fio laughed in the background as he smoked on a cigarette. "I was like you back then. Scared of the future, unconfident in myself, unable to believe that I had the actual guts to kill people I didn't even know. But you'll learn, boy. It takes time."

 

Skorpeon let go of the photograph, eager to get this situation over and done with. Roberto understood what he said, but he wasn't like Skorpeon. He was fresh blood in the life of crime, curious as well, though hopefully soon he'll learn that a little goes a long way. "What takes time? Killin' people?" A blaster of chuckle interrupted the silence from one of Skorpeon's guards. Tommy raised his gun a little, cleaning the trigger with a cloth before turning to Roberto. "Nah, it isn't that. Learning to understand that's all just business. Nothing personal," Tommy resumed to his activity, zoning out again and thinking about a holiday to Hawaii. "Ah, right..." Roberto wasn't sure if Tommy's statement was supposed to give him peace of mind, but it sure didn't work. If anything, he was MORE terrified now. He glanced down again at the photograph in his hands to get a better sight. The age must be in the 30s range. And he had brown, coarse and wavy-looking hair, dark brown eyes that seemed to look right past you. Roberto excused himself from the room, whispering to himself every few seconds "trust the process, trust the process..." 

 

3 weeks later

 

Time flew by so quickly that Skorpeon didn't even have much free time to cash in the money from the last hustle. Though, his personal accountant was pretty much wanting to rip his hair from the root because of how much money was coming in. The books were filled. As in, so fucking filled that there maybe wasn't enough books to cover everything. Meanwhile, one afternoon, Skorpeon decided to host a family dinner, figured that it had been quite a while that the whole family didn't get to eat together. Family was important and he couldn't stress it enough so he told everyone to attend, to bring their best attitudes and to enjoy each other's company. Celebrity chefs were on the payroll, too. Skorpeon wouldn't mind eating some good food while having meaningful chatter. As usual precaution, the family mansion was heavily guarded and the gates were only accessible by those identifiable by the front entrance security. Roberto was the first one to show up, and when he was about to greet his boss Skorpeon, he saw for the first time a huge smile on his face. It was like the icing on the cake. Interesting enough, Roberto felt like he never even received some kind of thank you gesture for him so he was ecstatic. Robert smiled back and waved. "Ay boss. What's cooking?" He popped onto the couch in the widely spaced living room, careful not to stain the white carpet. He wasn't THAT comfortable yet.  

 

By the time the clock hit 6pm, everyone was in attendance at the family dinner. People were looking spectacular and the smiles on their faces inspired Skorpeon to make a toast. Ding, ding, ding! Skorpeon tapped a fork against a champagne class as he sat at the head of the family table. "I am so happy to see everyone here tonight. I know you all just think you're coming over to eat good and socialize, but I have brought you all together because I want to make a very special announcement. A promotion is well overdue, Signor Roberto. You are now a made man of the family." He raised his glass in his direction. Eyes twinkled with pride. Roberto had come a long way from being a scared recruit to a strong and loyal individual willing to make daily sacrifices for the betterment of the family. Roberto gave Skorpeon a nod and smiled, showing off his pearly whites. When he stood up to thank everyone he was greeted with claps and sweet messages of congratulations. One of them almost choked from crying with happy tears. Then he turned his body more to face Skorpeon properly, and when silence fell he spoke again. "Thank you boss for this promotion. I'm honoured to be working alongside you and so many amazing crew members. May the future of Arachnida continue to prevail," Roberto raised his glass to toast then everyone else followed suit.

 

"To the future of Arachnida!" 

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Skorpeon had once met a woman. She was a regular girl with a normal upbringing. Little did he know that when he made a visit to a local cafe along Houston Street for breakfast, he would experience love at first sight. It was the 3rd of March, 19XX. The morning got off to a pleasant start, but of course something always had to happen. Alas, he had to One of Skorpeon's guards informed him of a long wanted suspect for a hit attempt on one of the top mob bosses in recent months. This was nothing short of a fame thirsty mobster, probably thought he really had the skill to kill a mob boss without getting caught. The cops don't get in the way, which was bloody great so as not to harm civilians and keep things lowkey. Skorpeon himself had close association with some policemen, as well as lawyers if something was to go ever wrong. The dirty pigs knew if they interfered with anything that the mob bosses would have their head. It was simply just common knowledge: Don't fuck with the mafia. Short and sweet. To the point. Skorpeon was one of the first to be alerted by the suspect's presence, and lucky for him he was close to his exact location. 

 

"He's armed?" Fio gave a single nod as he flexed his gun in his coat pocket. "We are too, but he's quick on his feet and we don't want to be firing shots in every single direction. What do you suggest boss?" Skorpeon angrily ran a hand through his hair. This was not good. It would be most preferred if he wasn't packing a gun, but things just got complicated. "Guess we're going to just chase him down until we trap him. We can at least get him alive first before taking him to the warehouse and finishing him off there. Get the men to position themselves, put up roadblocks on every street and make sure that he doesn't get out of the city." Skorpeon headed out of the cafe and cussed his way to the car, opening up the trunk and finding stacks on stacks of ammo and guns. Always loaded. Expecting the unexpected. Fio had already gone to get everything ready. The suspect's location who went by the name of Dacio 'The Jester' Sharp. Ha, fitting! A clown doing clown shit. Once Skorpeon confirmed that he had weapons, he got into the drivers side, he turned the key into the ignition and burned rubber as he drove away to The Jester's location.

 

Apparently it was some hidden shooting site, a place where druggies would go to 'shoot up'. The place wasn't even on the books and no one was paying for the insurance or rent. It was downright gross, rats crawled along the ground and the walls were peeling. Ever heard of hygiene? Skorpeon arrived to the facility and parked his car behind the trees, stepped out and went over to the boot. He wondered what The Jester was thinking. Could he be thinking about how much time he has left? Worrying about how many people are against him? These were the things that Skorpeon wanted to know. It kind of made things a little more exciting, the thrill of chasing someone down and getting them to say their last words before shooting the bullet right through their thick skull. No killing yet though. The plan was to capture him alive first. As Skorpeon camouflaged among the trees, he noticed another car parked right next to the site's entrance. It was a black SUV and one of the side mirrors was chipped off. The idiot probably ran into something as he drove like a scared little boy to this hideout. Skorpeon counted exactly how many minutes it would take for Dacio to emerge from the darkness.  

 

He had come to a point where the waiting was killing him inside so he decided to just enter the shooting site, making sure to keep his gun tightly strapped to him. As he was walking away from his car, he stepped on a bulky tree branch with his boot, making an unnecessarily loud sound. It seemed to echo throughout the woods. Anyone close could've heard. Skorpeon could feel that someone was drawing closer to him. They were closing the distance and Skorpeon could hear whoever it was that was breathing loudly. "Don't. Move. Or I'll shoot." Dacio growled as he touched the tip of his gun to Skorpeon's back. His eyes were fixed on the back of Skorpeon's head as he tried to calculate a plan. Skorpeon was no rookie, though. He had his fair share of near death experiences and this one was from those. Skorpeon jerked away, which Dacio tried to stop with a punch from his left fist, almost getting whiplashed. There was tussling between the two as Skorpeon tried to take the gun away from him. It looked harmless and small compared to the one he was armed with but wanted to make sure that The Jester had no way of saving himself first. BANG! The Jester fired the gun once, by accident, as he tried to smack Skorpeon with it. He was slightly shocked by it which allowed Skorpeon time to move quick. Finally, Skorpeon put an end to his clownery by punching him in the gut and throwing a punch to the right side of his face, making him lean forward as he held his face in pain. 

 

Skorpeon kicked the gun away when it fell to the ground, then pointed his own towards The Jester.

 

"You're in biiiig trouble, mate." 

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A person about to die, the doomed one, struggled to get back up but he managed to let a few words out. "Come on man, let me go. I'll do anything ya want just let me go dude..." His words were slurred, body slouched and the side of his face bruised from the impact of his punch. Skorpeon had no empathy to give the guy who had already caused so much trouble for the mafia, and he was already getting bored of the situation so he smacked his head aggressively. "Get your shit together and listen to me carefully. You are going to die. Sorry, it's not my problem. I'm just the messenger," Skorpeon got him up and shoved him in the passenger seat before slamming the car door in his side. Dacio didn't say anything for the duration of the drive, probably best so as not to earn another punch. As the vehicle approached the city streets once again, Skorpeon searched for the rest of his crew at the warehouse location where they agreed to meet the other mob bosses. They would all be there, waiting in silence, probably thinking about how badly they wanted to kill the guy that committed a wrong against them.

 

When the wheels finally skidded to a stop, Skorpeon took a deep breath. "If I were you, I probably wouldn't say a word when we go inside. They 're not very... fond of people who try to sabotage them." Dacio already felt ashamed from earlier, and even more so now. He slouched in his chair, unwilling to get out of the car. Pathetic. Skorpeon smacked his head again, this time it caused a burning sensation which made him practically jump out the car. Skorpeon got out after he did, but approached the warehouse entrance first so that those inside can know who it is. "Open up guys, it's Skorp. The Jester is with me now," he banged on the door a couple times, then was greeted by a couple of muscly guys looking like they were ready to attack any minute now. "I've got something for you boss," Skorpeon smirked as he pushed Dacio towards the head of The New York Scasiatta Family. The boss, who could only go by 'Trigger Finger" or simply just 'Trigger' walked towards Dacio before punching him in the face. Skorpeon raised his brows slightly as he heard Dacio wince in pain. He knew what was going to happen next.

 

Seems like the boss needed some privacy. Skorpeon side eyed Fio and the rest of the men, getting the signal that it was time to head out. They had other things to do as well. As they fleed the scene, Fio caught up to him and curiously tried to tap into his thoughts, "so what did he say when you caught him?" Skorpeon thought about it for a moment and gave a side shrug. "He seemed adamant at first, but when we drove closer to the warehouse I could physically see him shaking in the passenger seat." They continued walking and when they reached the cars, Fio sighed and shook his head in a disappointing manner. "Man, these little kids should stop trying to mess with the mafia. Why do they even try?" Skorpeon got into his car and sat silent in his seat for a few moments. He thought about that once too. Maybe they liked the thrill of the chase. Or there were those who had the mindset of 'rules are meant to be broken'. Skorpeon drove away and headed back to the mansion where he saw Roberto chilling on the couch. "All play and no work eh?" Skorpeon said as he walked into the shared living room. He walked over to the bar tray table and poured himself a small glass of whiskey on the rocks. 

 

Roberto heard the sounds and looked up from where he was sitting and smiled. "I've got a few minutes before I meet up with some guys about a plan for a robbery. Just enjoying these few minutes of peace before I go back to reality," he replied to Skorpeon's undiluted statement. Skorpeon smiled lightly, then he remembered something that he had been wanting to do since the morning. Skorpeon went over to his office, then to his file cabinet before shuffling through the various yellow folders that contained confidential information about different people. "Where is it... where is it..." He spoke to himself. Then finally the familiar yellow piece of lined paper that had been folded and scrunched up prior to finding it was now in his possession. Ever since the day he received the note, he had been thinking about it... Obsessively. It was just too hard to believe at first because he had spent so much time with Fio that he never thought he'd do something like that. He sat on his swivel chair and looked at the note once again. It was an anon tip, and he found it by the entrance gate, on the ground, untouched and stained with harsh truth. 
 

You don't know me, but I know you. I understand that Fio is a long time friend of yours. But you should be aware of the truth.

He is an informant for another crew. You are housing an undercover. BEWARE.

 

It hit Skorpeon like a ton of bricks to know that his right hand man and close family friend was betraying him right in his face. And he was going to pay. 

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