It was a quiet evening and Julius was sitting in his apartment, idly sipping whiskey while he counted his daily earnings. The clatter of the telephone made him jerk his head upwards and reach for the phone with one hand, using the other to grab his drink.

"Hello."

Julius recognized his Don's voice as the older man began to speak.

"Julius, get your ass down to the HQ. We need to talk. And make it fast."

Julius stood up and took his gun from the table, swirling it around he placed it into his jacket and reached for his pack of smokes. Taking the last bit of whiskey in his glass in a single gulp he left his flat and hurriedly walked the two blocks to the family headquarters.

As he arrived he went straight to his bosses office. The well lit corridor was lined with Bodyguards, both the don's and the Godfather's. Julius swore to himself and started flipping through his memory for the last time he had done something to warrant an audience with the two men and couldn't remember anything past his Made ceremony. He had walked a straight line, just as his father had instructed him to do.

Julius came to the end of the long hall, knocked twice on the door and entered. Seated at his desk, the Don motioned towards a chair sitting in a triangle configuration with him and the Godfather of New York. Julius sat down and wiped his palms on his pants before reaching in his jacket for a smoke, in case it was his last.

The Don spoke first. "The reason we called you here tonight is simple." He paused to look at Julius. There was a moment of silence as he looked deep into the younger man's eyes and straight into his mind. With a small wave and imperceptible smile he set Julius' mind at ease. "You did nothing wrong my young friend, nothing."

Julius sighed, exhaling a long stream of blue smoke.

"The Godfather has a request of you. Tonight, for reasons unknown to us, the Godfather's beloved sister was shot to death, right here on the streets of our own city!"

As he handed over a piece of paper, the don sighed.

"Here is the address of the man we believe is responsible. Unfortunately the last skirmish we were involved in got the police's attention. Myself and the Godfather are known, and watched most of the time. The bribes aren't working like they used to. After killing a Captain, we've got to lie low, but this blow to New York's heart cannot go unpunished. Deal with it swiftly, and alone. Mention none of this to anyone. Do you understand me?"

The Don reached for his glass and motioned to the door. "Get it done now... don't wait."

As Julius left, thoughts tumbled through his mind like leaves in a strong wind. He reached for the paper and hailed a cab. He asked to be dropped a block down from the address and checked his gun. Reaching into his other pocket, he produced enough bullets for two full reloads. He hoped he didn't need more. As he sat watching the apartment before him, he could see two silhouettes clearly laughing and having a jolly ole time. The rage inside Julius began to boil like water on a fire

He gripped his gun carefully inside his jacket and crossed the street. Knocking on the door he waited until a man answered. Placing two slugs in the man's chest he walked over him and placed another in the guard's forehead.

He could see this was no ordinary gang of thieves, these were bodyguards.

"FUCK ME" Julius growled. He plucked several shells from his coat pocket and reloaded his gun, taking the stairs in front of him two at a time. He came into a room with a young street whore and an old man lying on a bed. He recognized the old man from the description his Don had given and placed his barrel against the man's forehead before speaking. The street whore had curled up in the corner with a blanket pulled over her, as if it would help protect her.

Julius's rage was full force now, and finally, finally, he didn't have to control it.

"Know the woman you killed tonight? She had friends--and family."

"Please... No, I've got money, take it all." The man whined and motioned to the safe to the left of him.

Julius let out an evil laugh. "I don't want your money. How many women and children did you have to kill to get it?"

Julius fired a slug into each of the man's kneecaps. As he began screaming, Julius put two more in each of his shoulders.

"Did you seriously think you actions would go unpunished?" Julius bellowed.

The rage was over coming him, and he couldn't hold on for much longer. He had to finish it. His teeth set on edge as his brain began to lust for the taste of the kill. The two before him weren't enough, he had to have more. He longed for more.

"Please-" as the old man begged Julius laughed and placed the final slug between the terrified blue eyes. He then emptied his final round next to the whore's head and reloaded.

As he walked down the stairs he looked around him, and heard footsteps. Three more men had come through the back door and were making their way towards him. He let out a vicious laugh and shot two of them through the paper thin walls of the slum apartment's walls. The final man dropped his weapon and fell to his knees, begging for his life.

The rage at its final climax, Julius grabbed the man's hair and placed the gun barrel on the man's chin and squeezed the trigger. A final silence fell and he looked around at the aftermath, then went back upstairs. He was covered in blood and couldn't walk out into the streets like this, but he also didn't have much time. It wouldn't be long before the police would come, looking for the source of the shots. As he riffled through the closet of the man he had just killed he found a new shirt and pants. Placing his in a paper sack to dispose of, he left.

Julius went home and began to drink, sarcastically pouring a shot in memory of each person he had killed that night, then more solemnly for the girl who had been murdered. Drinking seemed to be the only thing that calmed the boiling rage that had built up in him. After he began to drink his second bottle he remembered to call his boss before passing out. With little more than a whisper he said "It's done" and hung up, pouring another shot.