The room was silent as three pairs of eyes peeked around the corner of the doorway. Their prize, a small wooden box, sat on a long table with a knapsack resting on its lid. Two men stood alert, weapons at the ready should the attackers outside attempt to break in. Gunfire and shouts echoed from below as the diversion succeeded in distracting the majority of the base's men.
With a single shot, one of the gangsters leapt from behind the door and shattered the light fixture with a bullet from his pistol. His two comrades followed his lead and charged into the room, using the dim beam of sunlight streaming in from the window to see their enemies. The guards at the table fired several rounds before they were grabbed by two of the thieves. Guns were kicked out of reach and fists began flying as the men brawled. One of the thieves grabbed the crate and bag and darted away from the fighting. Glass shattered around him as he plummeted through the second story window down to the heaps of bagged trash beneath him.
Garbage crunched and crinkled upon his landing. He groaned and stood, brushing off a bit of old food with the back of his free hand. When the sound of soft footsteps met his ears, however, his hand flew to his knife, unsheathing it in one fluid motion. The red-headed girl who had approached him stopped short, but showed no indication of fear. "Your mark," he ordered, "show it to me."
Without a word, the girl turned away from him and pulled the back of her shirt up, revealing a detailed skull tattoo. The skull stretched across her spine; a dark brown snake wrapping around the skull, creeping into one eye socket and popping out of the other. A paper was held in the skull's jaw, the symbol for berries etched in the corners. Instantly, the man relaxed and lowered his blade. "You must be Aidan, then. Aren't you a little young to be a main branch member? From what I hear, the guys at home base are brutal."
The girl, Aidan, fixed her shirt and faced him again, this time with an annoyed glare. "Does it matter?"
He shrugged. "I s'ppose not." His nose wrinkled slightly as he sniffed his sleeve. "Did you have to make my landing out of trash though? I smell like a sewer rat!"
"It got the job done," she said, "Quit complaining. We've got to get moving. We're running behind schedule." She reached out, taking the parcels out of his arms. "Keep the Vipers occupied. I'm heading back to home base."
"Be careful. We don't know if any of them are stationed in the streets." She nodded in acknowledgement before she turned and disappeared into an alley.
Aidan ran as fast as her legs would carry her, hoping to minimalize the temper of her leader, Jackpot Jesse. He hated to be kept waiting. 'Especially on such an important job. He'll want this shipment as soon as possible,' she thought to herself. The gang had recently gained word of a potential threat coming from the East, a rival gang that had already laid waste to several smaller groups. Rumors had been spreading that they were searching for a place to set up and Jesse worried that meant they'd move into his territory.
It had surprised Aidan that Jesse would feel threatened by this particular rival, since he easily maintained his dominating organization, crushing any opposition with a single order. He had ruled the local mafia for several years, most of which Aidan had witnessed first-hand. His love of money and power was known across much of the East Blue, spurring several attempts to find his fabled jackpot of millions.
On the other hand, she reminded herself, this new kingpin also had quite the reputation, despite his limited experience. People whispered about his monstrous appearance and his unnatural abilities. It was said he towered over the common man and that his fangs could tear flesh off of bone, like some kind of wild animal. Some even theorized that he was a demon in disguise.
Aidan slowed as her stomach gave a loud groan. It had been nearly a whole day since she had earned a meal and she knew her payment today would be small, if Jesse was going to feed her at all for running late. The bakeries would be opening shortly and she debated snitching some bread. If she was going to be late anyway, she may as well be full.
Stopping next to several barrels, Aidan squeezed her way between them and the brick wall of a building, setting the box in a nook inside the cracked wall, one of her many hiding spots. She eyed the knapsack in her other hand, wondering if its contents would fit in the box as well. It would make things easier for her. Lifting the lid, Aidan was pleased to see there was plenty of space between it and the stacks of bills in neat rows.
Reaching into the bag, her fingers met something smooth and round. Her eyes widened when she pulled out an odd fruit. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. Its shape reminded her of a peach, yet it was a bright yellow. Even stranger were the odd swirls covering the skin and the light blue stem that curled in on itself. Crawling out from the barrels, Aidan turned the fruit in her hands, trying to examine it in the light. Something about it made her nervous. It almost felt like it was laughing at her with a menacing grin. That was ridiculous, though. She was simply letting her imagination run wild, she told herself.
Not in a position to waste free food, Aidan took a bite and almost immediately, she gagged. It tasted horrible! The mix of extreme bitterness and intense sour flavor made her stomach churn, but she forced herself to swallow. Chills shook her body and the palms of her hands began to tingle. What on earth was happening? Before the sensation could ruin her appetite, Aidan devoured the rest of the fruit, thankful that the awful taste lessened with each mouthful.
Dropping the pit at her feet, she was beginning to calm down when a noise caught her attention. Barking, followed by an irritated shout. "Where is it?" the gruff voice demanded. Aidan's heart jumped into her throat. They were looking for the stolen goods!
Afraid of leading them to the hidden box, she sprinted out of the alley and into one of the main intersections. Within moments, the deep growls caught up to her, snarling from behind her. She could feel the beast's hot breath on her ankles as it got closer. Its paws beat against the road until it pounced, sending both of them to the ground. Sharp claws dug into her ankle and drew blood. Aidan struggled to free herself, but the dog's weight held her down firmly.
"There you are, punk!" The owner skidded to a stop further down the road, letting his pet keep her in place. "Where the hell did you put it? You better not have handed it off already!"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Her voice was muffled by the cobblestone pressed against her face.
The owner scoffed. "This is one of the best tracking dogs we've got! Don't think you can pull a fast one on me!"
Suddenly, from the curb, came an impish snickering. "You need some fancy mutt to help you catch a street rat?" The newcomer sauntered out of the shadows and joined them in the middle of the street. "You're one of the Vipers, right? Isn't this side of town past your territory?" He sneered as the owner stumbled backwards in shock.
"N-no way…You're…" The owner stammered for a moment, unable to form a cohesive thought. Fear swept through him and he bolted down the road, back in the direction he came from. "B-Boss!" he screamed, "Boss, it's him! It's Bartolomeo! Bartolomeo has arrived!"
Aidan's mind raced. Her stomach flipped as the name rang in her ears: Bartolomeo, or in other words, the demon kingpin who'd made Jesse so anxious. She tried to pull herself free with all of her strength, hoping to escape his wrath, but when his boots appeared next to her, she gave up. Maybe the dog would end her first, she rationalized.
Looking up, she was amazed by his height. She could barely see his face until he leaned down closer to the dog's level. Green hair was slicked back into a pompadour and a gold nose ring glinted in the morning sun. His red eyes stared into the dog's and several shark-like teeth bared at the animal, including two long fangs. With a single savage snarl from Bartolomeo, the dog scampered off after its master, releasing Aidan.
She scrambled to her knees, ready to take off, when Bartolomeo grabbed her shoulder. "Woah, easy there. Not so fast. I'm not gonna bite." He kneeled, glancing down at her injured ankle. "Damn mutt battered you up a little, from the looks of it. What the hell did you do to that guy anyway? He sounded pissed."
"I stole some of his food." It wasn't a total lie.
Bartolomeo snorted. "Gutsy. You got lucky. He could have killed you." He stood to his full height, stretching. "Maybe you can help me out, though. I'm new around here and I've got a few questions about the goons in town. Since you're obviously familiar with how things run, you could catch me up. How about it?"
She watched him carefully. "What makes you think I'd be any help?"
"You managed to get that guy to tail you this far out of his gang's territory, so you've got to know the city pretty well and if you've been here that long, surely you've heard some things. Come on. Help me out here. It's the least you could do, since I saved you." Her amber eyes narrowed and Bartolomeo held his hands out in defeat. "Alright, don't be grateful, but how 'bout this? I'll get one of my boys to take care of your leg and you can tell me what you can afterwards. Sound fair?"
Aidan hesitated, feeling the sting in her ankle as she returned to her feet. It'd be a challenging trip back to the base, especially with the Vipers looking for their money, and she doubted any of her comrades would help her. "Well, I guess I could-"
"Perfect! Let's get going!" Bartolomeo tossed her over his shoulder, holding her there by her waist.
"H-hey! Put me down! I can walk just fine!" she argued.
The kingpin ignored her protests and began making his way towards the edge of town. "Quit wriggling! It'll only take a few minutes to get there, so pipe down!"
Aidan huffed, but stopped fighting his grip. "I could've walked…" she muttered.
As they continued in silence, Aidan began to take note of their route and location. Curiosity fueled her senses, urging her to absorb everything she could. Businesses and apartments became farther apart and gave way to wider roads and boarded up doorways. Many of the windows were opaque with dust and those that weren't were broken. While the area technically belonged to the Jackpots', the gang never had a reason to come into the abandoned district, which fascinated Aidan. To think there were still portions that she didn't know.
The path slanted up a hill. Before the duo reached the top, though, Aidan noticed a strange, blond man leaning against a building, watching them with an amused expression. In a couple long strides, he came up alongside of them and gave Aidan's ponytail a quick tug. "What'cha got there, Boss? I thought you were going to grab some grub."
Bartolomeo grinned. "Yeah. Then I ran into one of the local thugs on my way, but the kid needs some patching up."
"I'm not a kid." To Aidan's chagrin, the two merely chuckled, continuing to talk amongst themselves.
"Hey Gam, get the door, will ya?"
Aidan craned her neck around to see where they were. The blond unlocked a door leading into a large, old warehouse. Swinging the door open, he led the three of them inside. The front room was bare, aside from a few crates, and the fireplace along the far wall was empty. In front of it sat two other gangsters flipping through a stack of papers. Both looked up, puzzled, as Bartolomeo set Aidan on one of the crates. "Henry, I need you to fix her ankle."
One of the gangsters, a brunet in a leather jacket, nodded and rustled through his bag. "Alright, Bart."
"For the last time, it's 'Boss' now. I've got a reputation to keep up."
Henry rolled his eyes and slid in front of Aidan, a few supplies sitting in his lap. His touch was quick and light as he turned her leg slightly. With a small pop, he opened a dark bottle and soaked the cloth in his free hand. "This'll hurt," he warned, rubbing the wound. Aidan hardly flinched.
The other gangster, whose afro was a similar shade of red as Aidan's hair, held a paper out to Bartolomeo. "I finished filling out an order while you were gone. The new stovetop should be shipped Thursday."
Bartolomeo skimmed the sheet. "Sounds good. Keith said he'd take the next boat he could, so he shouldn't have to deal with that rusty old thing we've got."
"We don't need that dumb bastard," the other grumbled.
The blond came around and grabbed the shorter man in a headlock, giving him a playful noogie. "Aw, Al! What's the matter? Is my precious cousin feeling grumpy today?"
"Lay off, Gambia! I just think we'd be better without that muscle-brained idiot stirring trouble!"
"And it's not at all because Keith's taller than you now?" Henry asked, unwinding a bandage.
Al blushed and pushed Gambia away. "Can it!"
Bartolomeo howled with laughter. "I think you struck a nerve! Al, you're starting to sound like this street rat. She gets sore 'bout being a kid."
"Because I'm not a kid!" Aidan declared. "I'm already thirteen!"
"Oh, excuse me, Ms. Teenager. As far as I'm concerned, you're a brat until you're my age, so wait a good four more years before acting like tough shit." Plopping down onto the edge of the fireplace, Bartolomeo took a swig from an open beer can. "Anyways, kid, you still owe me some information. Start talking. What do you know about the gangs in town?"
"Tell me what exactly you want to know first."
The kingpin leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist. "Everything. It's easy to learn general things, like territory boundaries and gang names, but I want the local point of view. How much tension is there between the current groups? What're the guys in charge like?"
Aidan hesitated. How much did she dare tell? "Do you know who Jesse is?"
"The Jackpot? Of course! Everyone in the East Blue mafia's heard of him."
"He owns this side of town," she explained, "He owns most of the island, actually. The smaller gangs manage to keep pockets of the city, but they tend to mind their own business and stay far away from Jesse's underlings."
"Sounds like he's got everyone eating out of the palm of his hand," Al commented.
Bartolomeo furrowed his brow in disgust. "Guys like him don't have to lift a finger. All he's got to do is flash a little of his money and let his followers do all the work."
"With his reputation, he wouldn't even have to do that much. A chance at his wealth is enough," Gambia added.
"Yeah…" Bartolomeo returned his intense stare to Aidan. "You know where his base is, by any chance?"
She shook her head. "Not a clue. I told you everything I know."
"Great. So we're back to where we started. Damn it." He sighed. "Oh well. Thanks anyway, kid. If Henry's all done, you should head back. We've got work. Do me a favor though and stick to stealing from civilians, got it? I'm not bailing you out after this."
Hopping down from the crate, Aidan made her way to the door. "I'll try my best." With a final, brief nod to Henry and a rushed 'Thanks', she slipped out of the hideout.
"What a weird girl," Bartolomeo concluded.