Two Years Prior….
1920. Chicago. The place to live. The place to live if you're a vampire or a gangster. In Chicago, they didn't bother with exclusive Italians like they did in New York. My first stop on my way to the "American dream" was New York, but I wasn't Italian. I learned quickly that if you weren't Italian, you couldn't join the ranks of Mafia. You could be an associate, but to be part of Cosa Nostra, you have to Sicilian.
I remember getting off the boat at Stanton Island and looking at America in amazement. How it had changed since I was here. I left America and traveled back to Europe no more than 30 years ago. The changes were astonishing. Tall buildings, busy, crowded streets, the numerous and plentiful fresh stock of blood. Being a German-Romanian didn't give me a lot of leeway for a job, but I was good with numbers and so my life as a bookie started.
Finding a bookie job became increasingly difficult. I tried on my own but it seemed that I was losing money. There weren't any classes to teach me how to be a successful bookie. Instead, I stopped my quest to be a bookie and took up small-time jobs. Every other day, I would do a drop off for some crooked cop or a small time mafia guy. Eventually I would get my big break when I was at a horse race.
I was sitting in my seat after placing my bet. Even if I didn't make money from being a bookie, I was good at winning it. The sun was hot that day. Thankfully, they sat us under a dome where I could stay out of the sun. Prohibition had prevented the race go-ers from having a drink or two or three during a race. I wish I could bring blood, but there were no any blood banks in Chicago during the 20's.
Sipping on water, I watched the customers place higher bets with the bookies and wonder how they did it. What I didn't know was that the bookie had a guy above him that he had to pay. I didn't care if I had to pay up to someone higher up than me. Eventually, I would get there myself.
The guy that introduced me to the bookie life was an upper echelon vamp. They were recruiting vamps to bring money into the community. You would think I would have a higher up position since I was over 300 years old, but no, they started me small. Doing stuff like horse races, fights and anything I could get people to bet on. I got my first job on a small time fight that went on downtown. It was fun and I started out being honest about my money.
They started joking and calling me "Honest Dorin". The vamps pushed me to be stricter with my dealings, but I couldn't. I kept my dealings fair, but eventually the lure of money would have me upping my prices. I didn't make a whole lot of money, but I was living. I got my blood from willing freshies that didn't ask for a lot of money. I had a home, well barely a home. I was living my life.
I had been working as a bookie for the vampire community for a few months, when they started calling me to pay up to the cause. They would be taking 25% of what I made and using it to fund the vampire community. I was appalled. Taking my money? The money I had earned on my own? What I didn't know was that when I took up the job as their bookie, I had sworn my allegiance to the Chicago vampire community. This was something I have never done.
Soon a new fella, Alex Kelner, showed up in town and he was starting to take over our territory that we were running. He offered higher prices and the customers thought they were making more money. This angered the vampire that ran this area. The fella worked for Torrio and he thought he was running the show, but it was Michal Greco, the Master vampire of the city. He controlled most of the dealings that went through Chicago. Greco was smart enough to not start a turf war with Torrio. It would only mean bloodshed and the extinction of my kind.
It was a warm night in June and I was relaxing at home with a fine vintage of 1910 when I received a call. Who could be calling at this hour? Sitting my drink on the table, I walked into the hallway and picked up the phone.
"We need you to come in." said the voice on the line. Slipping on my jacket, I got into my car and drove to the Dock. Arriving there, I parked my car and got out. Walking up to the door I was approached by two henchmen. To any onlooker, the bodyguards would be ominous, but to me they were just two vampires doing their job.
Nodding toward me, I followed them into the Dock. As I walked in, it was quiet and each vampire that was sitting there was watching us head upstairs. I didn't like this feeling. Something was up. We climbed the stairs slowly and my eyes were scanning the room for any strange activity.
Leading me to a door they stopped and frisked me quickly. "Can't have any weapons on you. The boss won't like it," he said. I nodded quickly and they stepped aside and let me walk through.
Stepping inside the room, I tried to not let my eyes wander, but I couldn't help it. The room was exquisite. Just how I wished I was living. Hardwood flooring, lush carpeting around the English Tudor Oak desk, the room was the epitome of the era. The man sitting in the throne chair was none other than Greco.
He had two bodyguards standing in the room waiting to see if I did anything funny or threatening to their boss. That was impossible for me. I didn't even know why I was here. Greco was younger than me, by 60 years, but right now he was my superior. It's a shame when one younger than you is your superior.
He motioned me to sit down in one of the Italian folding chairs. Stepping closer to the chairs, I saw the bodyguards take a step closer to me. I wasn't going to attack their boss. Sitting down in a chair and making myself comfortable, I looked at him and waited to see what he would say.
"Have you heard about this new fella that's been treading on our territory? Upping the prices, promising the customers more money while he pockets 25% of the winnings. I know we ask you and our other bookies to pay 25% but this is for the vampire community. It isn't going into our pockets. It's going to fund the businesses and to keep our secret. You know this. You know the way of life. You're older than I am. You've seen what happens when humans find out about us. Disgraceful, if you ask me. Something must be done about him," Greco said.
"Yes, I remember well what happens. We don't need a torch-bearing mob chasing us that leads to our extinction…." Dorin said. His eyes drifting to an earlier time of being chased out of town, "What do you need done?"
"I'm glad you asked that…" he said pausing looking at his bodyguards, "When's the last time you killed? Killed for your community?"
"It's been awhile, but I have no qualms against it. If it needs to be done," Dorin replied.
Smiling evilly, "Good. I see there will be no problem."
That was the end of the discussion. I nodded to recognize that I knew my job. Getting up, I walked out of the room and made my way down the stairs. Passing by the other vamps in the sitting room, I ignored them. They were all of the Nuevo-riche vampires that were barely in their fifties. Still children in my eyes.
Greco didn't say how he wanted the fella bumped off. He just said do it. Shooting him would work, but maybe snapping his neck would be easier. Take him for a ride and finish him off. I haven't killed anyone in ages. I preferred to not get my hands dirty but this was an order. An order I couldn't refuse.
Before I walked out the door a beautiful vampire lady stopped me with a girl on her arm. The girl was a human. We stood there in silence for a few moments before the lady offered the girl to me. Pushing her forward a bit, the girl offered her wrist to me. I stared at it in temptation. My fangs protruding from my gums, my eyes shifting to their dark sapphire color.
Free fresh blood was hard to come by, I took this opportunity. I took her arm in my hand, smelling the blood beneath the skin. I don't know why she was offering her freshie to me, but I was hungry. The girl looked uncertain, but she kept her arm steady. Breathing in the blood, I sank my fangs in her arm. Hearing her gasp was my reward. Drinking steadily, I drank from her for a few minutes. The lovely taste of her blood was intoxicating. The more willing it was, the better the blood tasted.
Letting go of her arm, she held it to her breast and walked off. I looked at the crowd expectantly. They knew not to judge me. Blood was blood, but I wasn't part of their coven. Looking at them again, I walked out of the house and down the steps to my car. Getting in, I drove toward my home.
Driving home, the city was busy as usual. More usual than a normal night. I decided I needed some entertainment so I stopped off at Green Mill for a drink. I knew I could get a drink there. Best speakeasy in town. Making my way to the Green Mill, I slid easily into a parking space. Dodging the rain that had begun to fall, I stepped in the back of the Club and spoke the password to let me in.
Stepping inside, I waved off the smell of smoke from the patrons. The music was loud, full of the new jazz sound that had started to sweep the era. The subtle sound of Al Jolson's song "Swanee" floated around the people sitting in the club. Prohibition had driven many of us to these speakeasies to have a late night drink and dance. I knew soon a jazz band would show up and take over.
Sitting down at a booth, a young girl came up and asked what I wanted. Smiling, I asked what she had. Fumbling for a second, she told me they had whiskey, scotch, beer, Vine-Glo, Gin, Moonshine & rum. Ordering a scotch, I sat back and relaxed in the atmosphere. Sitting in the near dark, in the smoky atmosphere, I listened to the soulful sounds of Sally Starke while I was waiting for my drink.
The girl brought my drink and sat it down. Smiling flirtatiously at me, I could see the lovely vein in her neck and I would rather have that instead of the scotch. It wouldn't take much to seduce and feed from her. Sighing, I took my drink and tried to ignore her. Frowning, she walked off and attended to her duties.
Sipping on my drink, I could feel the burn of the alcohol, but I knew it wouldn't get me drunk. Pity it wouldn't. After a few more drinks, I left Green Mill and headed home. It was getting late anyway and I needed my sleep. Walking into my house, I set my keys aside and headed upstairs to sleep.
A couple of days later, I stepped into a booking club to set the prices for the upcoming baseball game. The Cubs were playing the Yankees and it seemed it was going to be a good game. My regulars came to me to bet on the game. The Cubs having the lead, but since Babe Ruth was with the Yankees now, it seemed as if they might win instead. This didn't matter to devoted Cubs fans.
Looking up, I saw Kelner walk in. Nodding to the owner who was keeping a watchful eye on the store, his bets started rolling in. Far more than mine. I finally got a chance to see how this fella worked. A customer of his walked by me and I grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. Giving the man a twenty, I asked him how Kelner priced his bets.
Looking around, the man pocketed the twenty and told me what I needed to know. For every standard bet it was about $25-$50 for each person. He told me he had bet $30 for the last game, since his team won, he only made a twenty dollar profit. Other fellas made double that or more, so he heard. Shrugging, he walked off and left me standing there.
I decided tonight would be the night that I would take him for a ride. Watching and following him all day wasn't on my list to do, but it helped me learn more about him. He bounced around to about five or six different betting booths all day. Raising the prices higher at each booth. So, this is how he made his money. He was ripping his customers off. I even watched him after he took a bet; he slipped a ten dollar bill in his pocket!
Later that night, I was driving around in my car, when I spotted him walking out of a parlor. I stopped my car and offered him a ride. Another light rain had started to drizzle the streets and he looked grateful for the ride.
"Where you live?" I asked him.
"Umm…it's 5860 N Forest Glen Ave. It's right near Billy Caldwell Golf course," he replied.
Nodding, I headed that way. It was a bit out of my way, but I had to take care of him. We sat in silence for a while before he started rambling about something. Probably about the upcoming baseball game; I wasn't paying attention. Interesting how he didn't know I was leading him to his death. Halfway there, I turned down a dark road and stopped.
"Hey. What's the deal? Why you stop?" he shouted grabbing a hold of the door handle.
Looking at him, I quickly leaned over and clasped my hand over his mouth. He started struggling. Kicking at the front of my car and flailing his arms at me. Ducking slightly, I reached over and locked the passenger door. Vamping out, I looked at him and the sight of me paralyzed him. His body went very still as his eyes looked to pop out of his head.
Smelling his blood underneath his skin, I growled and bite down on his neck. Hearing him scream gave me no satisfaction. Greco didn't say anything about biting him, but I was hungry tonight. I needed to feed. Drinking mouthful after mouthful of his blood, I felt his body go slack. Pulling back from him, blood on my chin, I ran my tongue slowly over my lips before I removed my hand from his mouth.
Sliding my hands around his neck and with a quick twist, I snapped it. Watching his body slump against the door, I knew I had to get rid of the body. Turning the car back on, I speed off and drove toward Lake Michigan. Parking near the docks, I pulled his body out of my car and dragged him down the pier. I had to make sure no one saw me. There were plenty of people out on the Municipal Pier and I didn't want to draw attention to myself.
Making sure no one was looking; I picked him up and tossed him in Lake Michigan. I watched his body fall and make a splash into the cold, murky water. Turning back around, I looked at the city for a moment before walking away from what I did. I almost felt bad for those that placed bets with him earlier that day. They were going to lose their money.
Finding my car, I knew I had to swing by the Dock to let Greco know the job was finished. He would be pleased that the job was done quickly and without hesitation. As I got closer to the Dock, my car started to smell of blood and the drizzle had turned into a rain.
Barely making it there after my car slid a couple of times; I pulled up to the Dock and hurriedly ran to the door. The same two bodyguards were there and stepped aside and let me in. This time they didn't escort me upstairs. Knocking on the door, I waited to be let in. Hearing the knob turn, I braced myself to walk in.
The door open slightly and a man looked out. Recognizing it was me; he opened it wider and let me in. Greco was standing by the fireplace as I walked in. It was lit and very hot in the room, but I guess he didn't care.
Not turning to look at me, "Did you take care of it?"
"Yes, I did. Tonight. He swims with the fishes." I replied.
"Good," he said turning to walk toward his desk, "This is for you." He tossed me a brown envelope and I caught it swiftly with one hand.
"What is this?" I ask.
"Your payment, Mr. Sala. You didn't think you would do this for free, did you?" he said smiling at me. I looked at him in bewilderment. Getting paid to bump someone off? Now this, I could do. If only I would get more jobs. I would probably make more money that way.
Nodding again, I slid the package in my jacket and I turned to step out of the room. Making my way once more down the stairs, there wasn't a freshie girl this time to tease me. Sighing in relief, I pulled my jacket close to my ears and stepped out of the house. Running toward my car, I hopped in and drove toward home. I didn't even look inside the envelope. It clung to my jacket like a dead weight. How much did he pay me?
Reaching my house, I stepped out and climbed the slick stairs up to the door. Fiddling with the keys, I dropped them and they landed in the darkness of the steps. Crouching down, I felt around, using my vamp senses, I found it quickly.
Unlocking the door, I walked in and hung my wet coat up. Taking the envelope out, I sat down and opened it. Flipping it over, stacks of money fell onto my lap. I sat there and counted it quickly. Two grand. Two grand for whacking some fella? A letter fell out. It was from Greco telling me how well he liked my services and how quickly I carried out my order.
Smiling, I poured myself a glass of O-. I preferred B+ but I ran out of that the other night. I'll take the money to the bank tomorrow. Maybe Greco would have more jobs like that for me to do. I could get used to making two grand a hit. Leaning back in my chair, I sat the money on the table and smiled. Life could get so much better.
The next day I headed to the bank. Stepping inside, I could smell the money and hear the tellers chatting and making money exchanges. Maybe when I stepped up to the teller, she wouldn't be suspicious about me making a big deposit. Most of my deposits were small. Stepping up to the blonde teller, I smiled and gave her my money. No words were exchanged and I quickly left the bank as soon as the transaction was complete.
Once word got out about Kelner's death, I had to lay low and keep my mouth shut. Everyone asked me if I knew him. I told them no. He was just competition. What I didn't know was that he was working in the States to send money back to his family back in Poland. I felt for the family, but this guy knew who's territory he was on and didn't care.
Soon, the news of Kelner started to disappear. When a new story begins, the old ones disappeared like the wind. That's Chicago for you. It was less competition for me and I was making more money with him gone. Greco didn't say anything more to me about Kelner. That was fine with me; I tried to push his death as far deep in my brain as possible.
Spring. I liked this season, it was not to hot, not to cold. It was perfect season. It was 1921 and everything seemed to be going well. Greco was impressed with how I did my job. That I was quick and efficient and he eventually invited me to be part of the crew. My job as a bookie started to disappear and my life as hitman begin. Even though, I worked for him, I secretly wanted to join the Outfit and work for them.
I was starting to move up in the world. I had moved out of my tiny apartment into a condo near Lincoln Park and I had reinvented my look. I had now freshies on tap and that I didn't have to go to the Saloon to find a willing freshie. It was rather nice. For my work, Greco had given them to me. I still kept up my bookie work on the side, but I was officially his hitman.
Late one night I was coming from Green Mill when I stepped out my car and I saw two henchmen standing on my doorstep. I knew they were human from their heartbeats. From this distance, I could tell they were packing. Maybe it was a hit. Someone coming to bump me off.
Walking cautiously toward them, I began to feel nervous. My senses went into overload. I could tell they were alone and they didn't bring back up. I know a vampire nervous about two humans. Strange, I know, but that's how I was feeling right now. You just never come home and see two men standing on your doorstep.
Walking up the steps, I stop in front of my door and the two fellas stepped aside and let me unlock the door. Stepping inside, I motioned for them to come in. I didn't like having my back to them, but there wasn't anything I could do about it.
Stepping into the living room, I motioned for them to sit down. When they did, I felt my body tense up more. I didn't recognize either of them. I knew they were Italian, maybe Greek. Scruffy, dark hair, dark eyes and neither of them smiled. We stared at each other in silence for several minutes.
"Can I get you anything?" I asked.
Taking their silence as a no, I leaned back in my chair and waited.
"Our boss wants to see you. He's heard things about and wants to speak with you." He said sliding a piece of paper across the table and the fella said.
"Be here at the address tomorrow night at 8pm."
He stood up to leave and walks out of the room. His friend sneered at me; like he was upset he didn't get to make a kill tonight and followed his friend out my door. I didn't even hear them close the front door. I was staring at the piece of paper like it was a snake that was going to bite me. Cautiously, I picked up the piece of paper and read the inscription.
Four Deuces. 2222 South Wabash Ave.
I heard of the Four Deuces and it's known to be a whorehouse that Torrio runs. I've never been there and would rather have his girls from a bar or something instead of the whores. Smiling to myself, I called in a freshie. When she walked in, I could smell her delicious blood and I nearly groaned. Holding out her wrist, I take in it my hands, kiss it gently before sinking my fangs into her delicate skin and drank deeply.
The next night, I got up and found my best suit. Since this was my first meeting with the "boss" I wanted to make an impression on him. Getting into my car, I drove to the Four Deuces. Taking the back roads, I avoided all the traffic and I arrived there in 30 minutes.
Pulling up to the Four Deuces, I get out of my car and straightened my jacket. Walking in, a heavy set woman told me to sit down and to pick a girl. Pulling her aside, I told her that I wasn't there for entertainment, but to speak with someone.
She nodded to me and walked off to find someone that could help. I sat down on the dirty bench with the other gentlemen and waited for a few minutes. Moments later, the two men from last night walked into the main room and motioned for me to follow. Hastily, I stood up and followed them.
Walking up the stairs, I notice that the whorehouse looked more upscale and modern since Torrio took over. He had renovated them and the houses become nicer than the trashy version of what they used to be. I almost felt claustrophobic; I had one man behind me and one in front of me.
Stopping in front of a door, the fella behind me frisked me. I didn't think too much of it. I wasn't stupid enough to be packing for a meeting with a stranger. Nodding to the one in front of me, he knocks three times before the door opens. Ushering me into the room, I notice that the room looked similar to Greco's. Though, it was more modern that Greco's. Maybe it couldn't afford or didn't like antique furniture.
Stepping closer, I notice that the man behind the desk was none other than John Torrio. The boss of the Chicago Outfit. I inwardly smiled to myself, this was good for me. Torrio motioned me to sit down, I sat down and waited for him to speak. It was impolite if I spoke first.
"Thank you for showing Mr. Sala. I assume you know who I am."
I gave a slight nod of my head.
"Do you know why you are here?" he asked.
"No, your guys weren't specific when they showed up at my house last night. They told me to come here." I answered.
"You're here because I've heard things about you. Good things. You get your job done quickly and I like that. You have no qualms about killing. What is your ethnicity and how long have you been taking contracts?
"I am German-Romanian. I have been taking contracts for several months. I work in freelance so that business doesn't get dirty. You need it done, I get it done quickly. No fuss." I said.
He smiled, "That's a good thing to know. Here at the Outfit, we aren't as exclusive as those Italians in New York. This makes you eligible to join the Outfit. Would you like to join the Outfit and work for us?"
Hiding my excitement, I nod and said yes.
"Excellent," with a wave of his hand, I knew I had been dismissed. It couldn't be that easy to get into the Mafia. There had to be more to it than this.
Getting up from my chair and passing the two guys that were standing in the shadows; I left the room and walked down the stairs. The lights were on full blast and there was light music playing from the main room. I ignored the stares from the whores that were eyeballing me. This was a night to celebrate, but not with them.
Walking out of the building, I got into my car and started to drive home. Taking the way I came, I arrived home earlier than expected. Stepping inside the house, I walked upstairs, undressed and laid down in the bed. A few minutes later, a freshie walked in; half dressed and climbed into bed.
I ran my hands down her soft body, removed her slip and kissed her neck gently. I heard her moan softly, she loved it when I did that. Each of my freshies was unique. She liked it rough and quick, but I wanted it slow tonight. I didn't mind rough and quick, but you have to change it up sometimes. Telling her what I wanted, she complied to all my wishes.
A few nights later…
Stepping out of my bathroom, I dried my hair off and tossed the towel back in the john. Grabbing some clothes, I started to put them on. I was in a cheerful mood tonight; maybe I would go to the Green Mill. It was one of my favorite places to go. I didn't mind all the girls that fawned over me. Pity I couldn't take a freshie with me. She could be a snack or to flavor my drinks while I relaxed.
Sitting down on the bed, I could smell the girl from last night. I could remember the feel of her soft skin, the taste of her mouth, the way it felt when I sank my fangs into her neck, drinking in her orgasm. Shaking my head of out the reverie, I stood up and walked out of the room.
Walking down the stairs, I grabbed my jacket and keys. Since I was in a good mood, I let my senses down and didn't know that two men were standing outside my door. Opening the door, the two men grabbed me and I saw darkness as my head was encased. Fighting as hard as I could, I felt something break on one of my assailants.
Feeling something come down on my head, my body went limp. My body was dragged down the steps and into the back of a car. I had no idea where I was going. About halfway there, I regained consciousness and tried to sit up, but someone pushed me back down.
A few minutes later, the car came to a stop and I felt strong hands grab me and drag me forward. I could sense when they walked into a building but I couldn't tell which. This worried me. I didn't know what I had done for them to kidnap me and to hold me hostage.
Walking down a flight of stairs, I nearly tripped over my feet. I would have gone down, if not for the arms that had a hold of me. They continued to walk down the stairs until I felt floor. The arms guided me to the middle of the room where they took the bag off my head.
Giving me a moment while my eyes came back into focus, I noticed I was in a dark room and there was a table in front of me with a single burning candle. There were several men in the room, none that I recognized. It was going to take more than one man to whack me? What was going on? Where was Torrio?
Then it hit me. This was my initiation. I watched as a man stepped around the back of the table. The two men on either side of me didn't move and I waited in silence. They stood there in silence watching each other before the man who he was to find out later was Antonio Lombardo.
"State your name."
"Dorin Sala," I replied.
"Repeat after me: 'I, Dorin Sala, will never divulge information about certain activities or to go the police with evidence. To do so, will result in death.'"
Taking a deep breath, I slowly repeated the oath. As I was repeating it, each of the men smiled at me. As I was finishing the oath that would bind me to the Outfit for the rest of my life, I couldn't help to think that if I broke the code, these guys would try to kill me. Well let them try; it would be interesting to watch.
Stepping out of the shadows, Torrio looked at me and smiled evilly. He was dressed in a suit that could only be custom made. Another man stepped out but I didn't recognize him, but I would later come to know him as Al Capone. He looked like Torrio's bodyguard. Short, stocky, he had some scars on the side of his face.
Shaking my hand, Torrio and Capone led me up the stairs and out of the room. Whispering in my ear, he congratulated me for becoming a "made man". He also told me that he had two jobs in store for me. Hitman and bookkeeper. He had heard about my way with numbers and was impressed with it as well. Thus, my new life began.