Vampire Bay
The next morning, the sun shone through my windows in a golden light, which shimmered in my eyes, waking my senses. I arose, and throwing my covers aside, I extended my arms above my head momentarily before making my way to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. I had felt replenished from my sleep, unlike all the other nights before, where I had awoken unsatisfied with my mind full of confusion.
Adorned in a comfortable bath robe, I sat down on the couch to drink my coffee, read the paper and listen to the radio. The crackling voice of the weatherman over the radio hummed through the speakers.
"Today, Empire Bay is expected a chance of snowfall varying from four to six inches. Temperatures will range from ten to twenty degrees, twenty-three being the highest. Remember to bundle up and drive safe, folks."
I took a sip of my piping hot mug of coffee, the tender bitterness making its way down my throat, filling me with a scalding sensation through my chest and stomach. Just when I thought I could catch some relaxation from the warmth of the coffee, the scorching liquid actually triggered something else. It jogged my memory, struck my nerves, and made me realize something.
Hadn't I gone to sleep in my car last night?
With such a striking realization, all of my bliss had withered away, soon replaced with the bitterness I had been feeling over the course of almost a week. The thoughts, the emotions, the questions, they all flooded back.
And to think I had temporarily forgotten about the night before. Maybe I had actually gotten a good sleep for once, but that was because I didn't have the same dream. What had stopped my dreams all of a sudden? And most of all, how had I suddenly returned to my apartment?
My mind traced over the night's events. I remembered seeing Henry at the dockyard, and all of it came like a shock to me. The cold air that bit my cheeks, the sun strip just above the waters, what exactly I had worn, the expression on his face. My throat tightened as the mixture of confusion, fear and happiness returned. His presence engraved itself into my mind. I paid close attention to his face, even. I noticed something odd, and it was that there were no scars or marks from the incident in the park which had taken his life. I wondered how exactly he wound up with no trace of the murder. But most importantly, how in the world did he live? How was it even possible for him to meet me at the dock, even after I witnessed him die right in front of me? Maybe he got lucky...
Or maybe... it was just another dream...
The mere thought struck me with anger, to the point I grit my teeth behind my pursed lips. If the night, which felt all too real to me, had just been another fucking dream, then it was probably the grossest joke that my own mind could ever play on me. Or, did Henry play the joke on me? Did his soul somehow enter my mind and cause me to believe that he was the man at the end of the dock? If so, he was a sick prick for doing so.
No, I couldn't think of him in that way. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to force my nerves to bring back the phantom sensations. His cold hands upon my cheeks, definitely real. The tightness in my throat, the overwhelming emotions, trying to choke back tears. His voice, I definitely heard it. And for a hot second, I had almost forgotten what it sounded like.
Surely, this would fuck with me for the rest of the day. I'll end up over-thinking, overwhelming myself with all sorts of questions and possibilities. Because of last night, I was beginning to question what was real and what wasn't. It felt real, but I ended up waking back up in my bed, when I could have sworn I had left it in the first place to achieve my task.
I had lunch with Francesca that day, instead of Joe, whom I felt needed a couple days to himself. Besides, I needed to catch up on things with my sister.
I took her to the Maltese Falcon, which was formerly owned by Carlo Falcone, before I... well, you know the story. I don't know who owns it now, probably Eddie I would guess. Needless to say, going there brought back some rather painful memories for me, but I wasn't necessarily going to take her to Freddie's. She deserved to be somewhere classy, and the Maltese Falcon was the only classy place I knew of in all of Empire Bay.
I swallowed my pride and walked her inside of the restaurant. She seemed more vibrant today than she was yesterday, but she hadn't retained the same vibrancy as she did years ago. It was kind of painful to see her deteriorate like that, but it's not like I wasn't deteriorating the same way either.
The server lead us over to a nice booth, nicer than those at Freddie's. I helped her take her coat off before she sat down. Then, I noticed something odd about her. When I had taken off her coat, I had noticed she had gotten smaller. Smaller, as in she had lost quite a bit of weight. Probably from the amount of stress over time, or maybe she's not eating enough. Being her brother, I needed to be concerned. I sat across from her, and we awaited for our waiter to come around.
"So, Frankie," I began, somewhat awkwardly, "What's new?"
"Not a whole lot, Vito..." she answered, scratching the back of her head. Well, it had only been more than twelve hours since I'd last seen her. It's not like something must have happened within that period of time.
Soon, the waiter arrived. We ordered our food. I chose steak, as usual, but I noticed Francesca had ordered a small salad. I felt a tinge at my heart, knowing she was purposefully trying to starve herself. I saw no reason to do so, unless this was some kind of self-inflicted misery due to all the bad things that's happened to her in her life.
"Really?" I grinned, trying to be humorous. "A salad? I remember when we were kids, you were anything but frail with your appetite."
"Heh... I guess things change, don't they?" she replied with a weak smile, which concerned me more, but the last thing she needed was for me to be more concerned about her. But, I couldn't help it.
Even though she already ordered a salad, I could see her continuing to thumb through the menu, a longing in her eyes for the heavier meals. But, the waiter took our menus away, leaving her with a stronger longing in her eyes.
I needed to spark up a different conversation, something less about her eating habits and something about her. Something that girls like her liked. Let's see... shopping? Yeah, shopping.
"Buy anything good?" I asked. "Ya know, like clothes? Anything? Christmas is coming up, Frankie. I'm sure you've got money burning a hole in your pocket.
Francesca let out a weak, quiet chuckle before brushing some non-existent hair out of her face. "Um, no, actually... I kinda lost a lot of money in the divorce. B-Because Eric didn't have much, so I kinda needed to take care of the expenses for a lawyer. But, hey... I'm the one who wanted it, so I guess I had to be the one to pay up, right?"
Ouch. Well, that was a buzz-kill. I hated Eric from the start, but her spilling the beans, well, that made me hate him even more.
"Well, you're not the one who cheated, you're not the one who drank and slept until half past noon, and you certainly weren't the one blowing off the paychecks on drugs and more liquor," I replied, "so you shouldn't have had to pay a dime."
"I know, Vito," she added, slightly hurt, "but, it's just not that easy. There's more paperwork, and... such..."
"I understand," I finished, not wanting to make her even more upset. I could tell it was touchy, due to her voice trailing off. I guess it was time for another subject change.
"What about, uh... how's work?" I asked once more. "I'm sure you've still got your job, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do," she answered, her eyes darting about. "I can think of so many other glamorous things to do, but I can't complain. It pays the bills... sometimes."
Sometimes. That's not the word I wanted to hear. I almost wanted to offer her to live at my place, and not have to have a care in the world, but that would increase the chance of her being caught up in my dangerous lifestyle, and if anything were to happen to her under my watch, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. Besides, I didn't live the most luxurious lifestyle, but I got all the bills paid, and she'd never have to worry about the shortage of money again.
"Eric even won over the apartment," Francesca blurted.
"Wait, you mean the apartment we used to live?" I asked. "The one where it was you, me and Mama?"
"Yes..." she stammered. "He won that... so I had to move into a small apartment with what little money I had after the divorce."
Now, I was pissed. Not only did this guy drain the life and money out of her, but now he infested the home that used to belong to my family. What a load of shit. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? I was merciful enough not to kill him the second I knew he was abusing her, but now my trigger finger twitched. However, I grit my teeth and forced myself to stay in the booth, instead of rushing out the door to hunt down the motherfucker and put a bullet between his eyes.
Just when I opened my mouth, the waiter placed our plates down in front of us. When I saw the waiter set the salad down in front of Francesca, I noticed exactly how small it was. Yikes, this was scary. There was no way in hell I was going to let her eat that, especially when she was this small and frail.
She picked up her fork and started to jab at her salad, biting her upper lip, looking down at the glossy leaves with contempt. I looked down at my steak, and realized how much I just didn't want it. Her contempt meant my contempt.
"Hey, Frankie," I began, looking up at her. She shot a glance back. "I'll trade ya."
"Oh... no, I'm fine with this," she mumbled.
"Liar," I grinned. "You need more meat on your bones. C'mon, eat this." I slid my plate towards her, and she leaned back, almost shocked that I was being generous.
"I, uh..." she stammered, utterly surprised I was willingly going to let her eat my steak. I didn't care for the Maltese Falcon's food, to be honest. I've had better from Mama, God rest her soul.
Reluctantly, she took it, seeing as though I wouldn't stop being persistent about it. I took her salad, and decided to munch on it. Wow, this tasted like shit. The spinach was like rubber, if that's what rubber felt like between teeth. Was this even real? But, I did it for her. She needed more. Besides, I would just end up going home to down two whole sandwiches anyway.
I saw her cut her food hesitantly, trembling with the utensils in her hand. I wanted to offer her help, but I couldn't help but just stare. She looked so helpless and mortified, as if she had never eaten a steak before. There was something wrong.
"You hungry, Frankie?" I asked. "It's all for you."
"I... Vito..." she began, looking up at me with a hurt expression. "Do you think...? Never mind..."
"Think what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "C'mon, Frankie, tell me."
"I... do you think... that I'm fat?" she asked, her voice dropping to a quieter level upon that last word.
"Fat?" I asked with utter dismay. "What... why would I think that? You're perfect the way you are. What, is it somethin' Eric said about you?"
"Yes..." she nodded, putting down the utensils. "Well, I kinda don't blame him for thinkin' that way. I mean... I kinda did gain a little bit over our marriage, and he always compared me to the models on those glamorous magazines, and the one girl he was with all the time. He told me I should stop eatin', so he would stop cheatin' on me and maybe treat me more like a woman. So... I kinda of did... as unbearable as it was. I'd skip meals as much as I could, even sneak some, and I'd even make myself hurl when he said those things to me, hoping I'd become the kind of woman he'd ogle over. After the divorce, I never really cut the habit. I mean... I guess I look better now."
I shook my head, my blood boiling more. What more did this man do to destroy her? This was pain that came from the inside out. And I thought I had the bad life.
"Frankie... you were fine before you met Eric," I began. "I hate to break it to you, but you fell apart when you married him. I honestly believe I never should have given you my blessing."
"That..." Francesca was stifled by my statement. "...that probably would have been the smartest idea, Vito..." Then I saw it; regret. The regret in her eyes was unbelievably palpable. She regretted everything; throwing away about six years of her life with a man who didn't even love her, yet she gave her heart and dignity to him. There were so many wasteful things I had spent my life on, but this was something I wouldn't wish upon even my worst enemies.
Somehow, I felt as though this was also my fault. I had given her my blessing, which caused her life to spiral down. It was all something we couldn't control. I was in prison at the time, so there was no way I would have been able to give my full judgment.
I wanted to tell her how sorry I was for all the things she had been through, but I felt as though no amount of apologies can cure what seven years worth of pain had caused her and I. Or anyone else. There was pain around every corner, and no 'sorry' could make it go away.
I was about to part my lips until I heard the sound of the radio from the other side of the restaurant. Someone had really turned it up to the point I could hear the crackling feedback from the speakers. And just when I thought I was about to have a deeper conversation with my sister, my thoughts were blocked out with the sound of the same annoying news anchor's voice, the same one I've heard in the past couple of days.
"This just in! New reports have come to the authorities' attention. More mass homicides have been committed by what has been, undoubtedly, a vampire! Quite possibly the same one that has been committing these same acts of murder throughout the city. Now, the vampire is targeting the elderly. A 57-year old woman was found dead in a dumpster outside of her home. Authorities inspected her body, and found that her flesh was ridden of color, along with two puncture wounds in her jugular. She was taken to the church, and the officials have clearly identified this as a vampire assault. A few more victims have been found throughout the city, but their identities are remaining anonymous until further conclusions. Remember, folks, stick to the plan. Don't be out after dark. The authorities will be swarming the streets. If you are found, you will be taken in for questioning."
I rolled my eyes, and ran my fingers through my hair with irritation. I looked up and saw the look on Francesca's face. To my demise, she looked genuinely horrified.
"Are you kidding me?" I asked with a low tone. "You really buy this?"
"Well," she began, shocked by my sudden annoyance. "How can anyone really make this kind of thing up, Vito?"
"It sounds like fabricated bullshit to me," I added, taking another bite out of the salad. I didn't understand why I did, but I guess I needed something to gnaw on out of anger.
"It's better to be safe than sorry," she replied. "I mean, what if there really is a vampire? I mean, there's a possibility. Do you really think news stations would come up with this sort of thing just to get attention?"
I nodded in response, with a small "mhm" as I chewed the salad. She looked down at her steak, and began cutting at it before it managed to get cold. When I saw her eat, I felt a little less annoyed with her. Even if everyone else pissed me off with their theories, I couldn't be mad at my own sister. I didn't agree with her one bit. I didn't really agree with very many of her choices, in all honesty.
After taking a few bites of her meal, she paused, looking pensive. She glanced back up at me, just as I quickly finished the abomination of a salad to get the misery over with.
"You know, Vito," she continued, putting her utensils down momentarily. "There are so many mysteries to life, and the world. So many things we haven't discovered yet. So many possibilities that have yet to be foretold. As a race, we've all been passing off these various things as mere works of fiction and theories."
"Your point?" I asked, almost rudely.
"My point is," she continued, "that you've just gotta believe sometimes. If you don't believe, then you won't know for sure. The world is a big place, and not only do you have to open your eyes, but you gotta open your mind and your soul a bit to see these different things. Vampires could be real, and so can other things."
"Like what? Pixies, unicorns, fairies?"
"You never know until you believe," Francesca smiled.
"I believed in Santa Clause once," I began, "until I saw Mama put presents under the tree herself. From then on, I just said 'fuck it'."
"Not really the point I was making," she added. "Maybe you just need to open up a little more to endless possibilities."
"So you're telling me that I need to believe that vampires are real?" I asked.
"Not just vampires," she stated. "Anything. You're your own obstacle, your own limit to what you believe in."
I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the booth, done with the atrocious salad. I crossed my arms over my chest and sighed, looking the other way.
"It's just a suggestion," she added, swallowing a bite of steak. "I think you'd have a better insight on life if you just keep an open mind."
I nodded, trying not to argue with her. Arguments weren't what he needed at this point, especially when we were still trying to mend our relationship. Yesterday, I had literally just seen Francesca breaking down to the point of tears, with no hope in her heart, and now she was sitting here telling me to open my mind and look forward to unknown possibilities in life. Since when did she get so positive? Oh right, she's always been that way.
After our lunch was over, I decided to drive her home. She lived in a tiny apartment on the bad side of town, which made me concern for her safety.
"So, this is where you live?" I asked. "In this dump?"
"Yeah... I mean, it's kinda far from work, but I always take a taxi," she replied. "It's not too bad, I mean—"
"You're staying at my place tonight," I interrupted.
"Oh, Vito, that's kind but, I should really..."
Before she managed to finish her sentence, I started the car and drove in the opposite direction towards my home. I lived a dangerous lifestyle, but at least I lived in a safe neighborhood.
"Vito, please, you don't need to do this," she pleaded, a hesitant expression in her eyes. Still, I drove towards my home, ignoring her pleads. There was no way I was going to let my sister stay even another day in that hellhole.
When we arrived home, I walked her to my door. She was slow and really hesitant, but I managed to usher her inside with some gentle persuasion.
"Oh, Vito, I..." she began upon walking inside. "It's very... there's so much room. How did you manage to afford this?"
"I know some people," I began, almost sounding like Joe for a second there. "Don't worry about it. The place is safe, and not in a neighborhood where thugs will break in through your window at any given moment."
"I've never had that happen," Francesca replied, "but, I do have cockroaches and the occasional rodent problem. Nothing real serious."
"That's fuckin' disgusting," I muttered under my breath inaudibly. "You should probably stay with me for a while until I can find you a real home."
"That's nice, Vito, but I really don't want you to have to go through the struggle for me."
"It's no struggle, Frankie, trust me," I added with a smile. "All I gotta do is make a few phone calls, and gather up some money and you'll be set."
She was about to protest, but she knew it would be futile to argue with me on the matter. I looked over at her momentarily, and noticed she was standing in the middle of the living room with a clueless expression on her face, looking around curiously.
"You can make yourself at home," I offered.
Once I told her so, she nodded slightly and sat down on the sofa in the living room, folding her hands across her lap politely. I still didn't think she was making herself at home, but I decided to leave her alone for a bit while I went to call Joe and make some phone calls regarding living arrangements for Francesca.
I held the phone to my ear, waiting for Joe to pick up on the other end. It took him a while, but once he did, I began to speak.
"Hey Joe, it's Vito," I spoke before glancing across the room to look over at Francesca. She looked anything but pleased to have heard Joe's name being spoken. She remembered what had happened way back then, when I had gotten arrested and sent into the military because of a crime Joe and I committed. Also, there was the gas stamp thing, and she was anything but forgiving about those two incidences.
But, once I heard Joe's voice over the receiving end, he sounded, well, much different than yesterday.
"Hey, Vito," he began, his voice sounding extremely dull with a slight hint of sadness behind it. I wanted to ask what was wrong, but we needed to get down to business.
"I need to talk to you about apartment hunting. You see, my sister Francesca, I'm sure you remember her. She needs a new home, I was hoping you'd help me find one for her."
"Uh huh," he added cynically. "Of course you need my help."
"What's up with you today?" I asked, finally unable to contain my curiosity.
"Just, things going on..." he began, the dullness thickening. I could hear him sighing, and rolling his eyes over the phone. It was a skill I managed to pick up from him a few times.
I felt the need to interfere, but I wasn't going to cave into his poor attitude. But, nonetheless, I felt the sudden need to. This was my best friend, and lately, his attitude has been getting on my nerves. This needed to be discussed.
"Uh huh," I retorted, "What kind of things, exactly?"
Awaiting his answer, I placed my hand on my hip, much like I was an impatient mother talking to her disobedient child. It seemed as though lately he's been in the worst fucking mood, but I suppose criticizing him about it instead of helping him wouldn't do any of us much good.
"Just, shit with Eddie," Joe admitted. "It's nothing, really... okay, it's not nothing. He's been goin' on about starting his new family from the remnants of Carlo Falcone's family."
"You told me this yesterday, Joe," I interrupted. "But, go on."
"The point is," Joe added, "He wants..." But his voice trailed off. He sounded like he was going to say something important, but he completely cut off, which made me even more concerned.
"What, Joe?" I asked. "What exactly does Eddie want?"
Joe gave what felt like five minutes worth of silence, before he decided to speak again.
"Let's just fuckin' drop it," he added, sounding somewhat panicked. Suddenly, this bright, fake happiness appeared in his voice. "Alright, now what kind of apartment does your sister need?"
"Somethin' that's not near the fuckin' ghetto," I answered, glancing back at Francesca. "Her ex, Eric, took the last apartment from her in the divorce, and the only place she was able to rent in the last minute was a shitty, infested tenement. She needs somethin' nice, clean, and somethin' close to work. You think you can help?"
"Sure," he added with the same false light in his voice. "I'll hook her up with someplace good, you won't be disappointed, Vito."
"Thanks, Joe," I replied, "Oh, and if you've got somethin' you need to talk about, I've got an open ear."
"Thanks, Vito," Joe added. I could tell he was trying to sound happy and appreciative, but some sadness leaked back into his voice. Before I could say goodbye, he hung up the phone, so I knew he was genuinely upset about something, and that something involved Eddie.
"So, what'd Joe have to say?" Francesca asked, sounding somewhat hesitant about Joe getting involved with our escapades.
"He's gonna help you out," I replied. "For now, you're staying here. I'm not letting you go back. No sister of mine is living in a shithole. Joe's gonna help you find a great place, small rent, clean with no gang violence. You'll be safe and happy, and I promise that."
"Vito, you're too kind," Francesca replied, a pit of happiness forming in her voice. "I don't know how I can repay you, really."
"You don't have to," I added. "It's on me. I'll pay the first month of rent, then you can do whatever you want from there."
Francesca arose to her feet and approached me. I stood, stifled for a moment, and just when I was about to ask her what was wrong, she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me inward. Taken by surprise, I instinctively embraced her, my heart warming to her affection. It had been forever since I had gotten a hug from Francesca. Her hugs felt like home; to smell her fresh perfume, to bask in the comfort of her arms, her small, adorable frame reminding me of when times were simpler. When I came back from the war and had the chance of embracing her. It brought back joy into my life. And now, it was time for me to bring back joy into hers.
"I'm willing to do anything for you, Frankie," I murmured beside her ear. "Anything. I'd even kill for you if it came down to it."
"Vito!" Francesca gasped, pulling away and smacking my chest, a hint of slight anger in her eyes.
"Heh... I'm kidding!" I chuckled. Of course, I was serious. If I had to kill someone to make her happy, I would. But, she wouldn't appreciate that very much, so I decided not to reveal my subliminal message.
"No! More! Violence!" she scolded, smacking my chest three more times with her furious words.
I chuckled once more, enjoying the privilege to see her light up with emotions again. I internally promised to take care of her again, no matter what the cost was. If she saw me come home any time with blood on my clothing, I'd come up with a lie. Anything to keep her safe and happy. I gave not a single care in the world what the circumstances were.
Later that evening, I decided to take her shopping for gorgeous clothes, since she left her other clothes at her old apartment. There was no way I'd let her wear those rags again, so I purchased dresses, shoes and different coats that catered to her taste. I could have sworn she collapse in tears when she saw some of the dresses at Vangel's. It was like a hidden paradise. I felt my heart warm when I noticed the good time she was having, seeing her picky side with the dresses, trying to figure out which one fit her tastes. I enjoyed seeing her get a little bit spoiled with the clothes.
After we were done, I took her to the theater, and we had a good time. She put on one of her best dresses, and we went and saw a romance flick. I wasn't the one for romance, but she delved in it. I rolled my eyes at the parts she shed tears to.
When the night started to fall, I drove Francesca home with me. The backseat was filled with shopping bags of different gifts bought for Francesca. Every now and then, I would briefly avert my eyes from the road to glance over at her. After one day of spending time with her and catching up, I saw life begin to slowly trickle back into her. I felt proud of myself for doing the simple things I needed to do.
But later that night, as she went to bed, using my bed of course, I received a phone call from someone I hadn't heard from in a few days.
"Hello?" I answered, receiving the phone as quickly as I could so it wouldn't ring for long and wake Francesca.
"Hello, Vito." The voice belonged to Leo. "Sorry for the late night call, but I need you to come by my mansion for a little talk. I've got an important task for you to complete."
"What's the task about?" I asked, running my fingers through the back of my hair.
"We'll discuss it when you arrive," he replied. "I'll be waiting, Vito."
Before I could protest, the line went dead. I sighed, shaking my head. What was it about people and hanging up the phone so abruptly without a simple goodbye? It confused me as to how people became so impolite.
I went over to Francesca to make sure she hadn't been awoken by the phone. As I slowly opened the door to check on her, I heard a soft sound. It sounded like soft gasps and sniffles. I listened closely, squinting my eyes with curiosity as I peaked my head in slightly. Listening carefully, I could hear it; Francesca was crying. But, why? I had taken her out earlier in the day to have fun and go shopping. This had to have been some deeper sort of misery that I haven't seen yet, and what she had told me was just scratching the surface. Maybe, she had found personal time to release more of those emotional problems, most likely by crying herself to sleep. And I could understand why. Hell, I had done so on occasion.
Sighing, I closed the door and left my apartment, driving away discreetly, avoiding any common police routes, as to not get arrested again.
It seemed like day after day, I was watching people close to me fall apart before my eyes. Two days was all it took to see. Joe was going cold on me, and it was possibly Eddie's fault. Later on, I would have to get to the bottom of it, since I didn't really trust Eddie after he hooked me up to kill Carlo Falcone. That was practically a trap set by him, but the job needed to be done. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else he was trying to pull. He was a shady character, and I didn't really trust him from day one. There's just something about him that seems suspicious, and I could tell from his face, his attitude, the way he shook my hand. That man was anything but trustworthy, and knowing that he's beating down my best friend and probably using him, well, it just made me want to chip away at the issue more. I even
I even heard my sister cry herself to sleep. Even after giving her lavish gifts, she still felt pain, pain that would take forever to make go away, and there was nothing I could do but stand back and let her release these emotions, and just keep her close. But no matter what, I couldn't stop her tears. My friends' and loved ones' burdens lay on my shoulders, but there was one particular burden that lingered and brought me bothersome feelings, but a slight chance of hope.
After seeing Henry on the dock last night, felt like some kind of light returned to my life after a year of nothing but gloom and doom. At least, I think I saw him on the dock last night. I mean, there's a possibility that it another one of those fucking repetitive dreams again, only with a different twist. Like I had noted before, it had all felt way too real. Yet again, Henry died a year ago. Something told me this was all a mirage; my mind was storing all this grief that I didn't know I had, and making my brain play tricks on me.
Not to mention, to top it all off, the vampire bullshit was STILL going around, which added more salt to the wound. It ground my gears, feeling as though everyone around me believed in this nonsense, and here I was, the black sheep, being looked at as though I was some sort of unknown specimen walking among humans. When I addressed the possibility that vampires are non-existent, I'm stared down at like some creature, like I was talking in some foreign language, when it was everyone who was speaking out of their asses. What was there to believe about fairy tales and myths anyway? This could literally all be just some sort of coincidence.
But then, I remembered Francesca's words of odd wisdom at the Maltese Falcon during lunch earlier that day.
"If you don't believe, then you won't know for sure. The world is a big place, and not only do you have to open your eyes, but you gotta open your mind and your soul a bit to see these different things."
Could she be right in all this? Not just the whole thing about vampires, but everything. Believe in everything, huh? How was that possible?
"There are so many mysteries to life, and the world. So many things we haven't discovered yet. So many possibilities that have yet to be foretold. As a race, we've all been passing off these various things as mere works of fiction and theories."
Maybe there was something more to what she was saying than just vampires. What more was there to believe in? What other possibilities lied in this world?
"You never know until you believe."
I could literally hear Francesca's voice ringing through my head, her words of wisdom. There was so much she taught me in the past, maybe I could learn from her a little more. Still, I didn't see what more I could learn.
But for some odd reason, without explanation, her words made me briefly think of Henry. How do her words of subliminal knowledge correlate with Henry in any way? It's just that when I heard the world 'believe', it always directed me back to him. Should I believe in him? What I saw? My dreams? The messages? The possibility of vampires? Something wasn't clicking right.
I pushed those thoughts out of my mind by the time I drove onto Leo's massive estate. He never bothered to sell it when he thought about moving to a tropical state. He said he had a feeling he'd have to come back for whatever reason, so he continued to keep it as his own. Because of his unfinished business, his dreams of living on a tropical island would have to wait.
I approached the heavy doors of the manor and knocked roughly. This time, I wasn't going to barge in like I had done that one time, since he made the habit of locking the door now. After a moment of waiting, one of Leo's henchmen opened the door for me, welcoming me in upon recognizing me.
I stepped inside the mansion and wandered up the massive flight of stairs, which branched off in two different directions. I made a turn on the right, and wandered into his room, which was where his office was. And there, in what seemed like a throne, sat Leo. He glanced up at me with his aged eyes, a cigarette resting between his thin, parted lips. Once we made eye contact, his old expression turned into gratitude.
"Vito," he started, tapping his cigarette against the edge of his ashtray. "Come in, take a seat. Pepe, pull up a chair for Vito."
Pepe, Leo's large henchmen, whom I had sparred with in prison, pulled a chair away from the desk, which I gingerly sat in. I leaned back against my chair in a calm fashion, waiting for Leo to begin talking.
"There's something we need to discuss," he began, turning on a lamp near his desk. I looked around and noticed he had the blinds closed, and there were more lights lit in his room than usual. I guessed the man liked his ambiance. Still, all these lights seemed a bit weird to have in his room, considering the rest of his mansion was dim.
"I haven't been giving you much work to do lately," Leo began, "since business has been somewhat slow lately. I also understand you haven't pulled the trigger in what probably seems like forever. Which is why I'm putting you on a late-night mission; you're going to whack someone."
"For what reason?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It's just a favor from a loan shark that we're acquainted with," Leo answered. "I'm sure you're familiar with a man named Bruno Levine."
When that man's name was spoken, I felt my blood freeze instantly. I sure as hell remembered Bruno. A while back, after I had returned from the war, my family was ganged up on by Bruno's henchmen, since my father had borrowed a large sum of money, which he failed to pay off in time. This caused me to have to do his light work and pay off the debt for him. Well, I guess I can't complain too hard, considering if the debt hadn't been there, I wouldn't have had a reason to join this kind of business to earn the money I do today. Nonetheless, I had this shady feeling about Bruno. Sure, he didn't force the money on my dad, but he still tried to send assholes after my family to give him something they didn't owe. Well, shit happens, doesn't it?
"Yeah," I answered. "I know him."
"Good," Leo grinned. "Because this family is well-acquainted with him, considering he's one of the best damn loan sharks in Empire Bay."
"I'm aware," I added sarcastically. "Anyways, what's this favor he wants from us?"
"That's the big mission," Leo began, "There's this man who borrowed money for him. His henchmen believe he was investing it all in some underground marijuana business. The son of a bitch borrowed twenty grand from Bruno in order to get his pot business going. Well, money well spent; he has not paid off his debt in three years. No matter how many times Bruno sends out his henchmen to deal with him and take his share of the dough, the sick bastard still won't pay back a penny. I've seen the filthy scoundrel myself. He's about the most disgusting fuckin' human being I've ever laid eyes on. My men and I believed he just used all that money to indulge in his own filthy pleasures, and Bruno damn well knows it, too. And tonight, you're whacking him. If he can't pay off a three-year debt with whatever link he's got in his pockets, he'd going to have to pay with his life."
"Who's the guy?" I asked, not very keen on killing a druggie. But hey, what had to be done, had to be done. As long as I got Bruno off my back again.
Leo took a manila folder from his desk and opened it in front of me, showing all sorts of photographs and documents. I looked through the documents, and my eyes widened to the size of dinner plates when I saw the contents.
"His name is Eric Reilly," Leo began. "This is the bastard you'll be whacking tonight."
I don't know why, but a large smile spread across my face as I peaked at all the photographs and documents regarding Eric, envisioning in my head, the pavement being splattered with his blood and bits of brain matter from one of my bullets passing through his ugly fucking mug. I could feel the vengeance bubbling within my innards.
"Where am I meeting up with this guy?" I asked, trying to force back my smile. I just couldn't contain my excitement, but I had to in order to look professional.
"We've arranged a fake drug-deal with him out by the dockyard," Leo began. "It's secluded, dark, and no one will suspect a thing. The dumb bastard is willing to do any sort of drug deal, no matter the location. You can easily take him out, dump his disgusting body into the waters, and be done with it."
"That'll be kind of a difficult task," I began. "The whacking I can sure as hell do. Getting to the dockyard? Well, I got arrested a couple days ago and was held in captivity of the church for driving at night. The authorities have been jumpy about this whole vampire business, which I believe to be complete bullshit, so they're roaming the streets and picking up anyone who's walking around at night. They're calling people nightwalkers. It was hard for me just to drive to your mansion. I had to completely re-route my way here to avoid the cops."
Leo gave a small chuckle, not saying anything regarding my opinionated statement on behalf of supernatural activities. "Don't worry. We've managed to snatch up a decoy cop car for you to use when transporting yourself over to the dockyard. That way, you'll blend right in as a regular cop car, and no one will pull you over."
"I guess that'll make things a hell of a lot easier, then."
"Anyways, there's a piece in the glove compartment," Leo continued. "It's the only piece you'll need, since he's not a real threat. Just one cap between the eyes, and you'll be golden. I know a guy like you shouldn't have any problem with a schmuck like that. Just come right back here when you're done."
"No problem," I finished, standing up and pushing my chair in. I exited the mansion, and was escorted towards the decoy cop car held up in the backyard. I got inside, and started the ignition, letting the excitement resurface. I let out a brief chuckle as I drove out of the estate.
Man, this was awesome. I got to finally kill Eric Reilly, and for a good reason too. In my mind, I imagined all the pain, tears and turmoil that he had caused Francesca, and my heart started to race; her lost child, her lost dignity, and her lost happiness. No more Eric, no more pain, no more agony on Francesca's part. This would sure bring more light back into her heart, knowing the monster in her life has been destroyed. I got to finally rid the world of a rodent that should have been taken care of a long time ago.
I slightly damned myself for not having finished the job back at the apartment. One more swing, and he would have been a goner. But, the best part about killing him now, is that I'm going to get paid for it. Not only do I get to avenge my poor sister, but I get my own share in the process.
I adjusted the rear-view mirror in the front, and caught a glimpse of my own determined grin in in the reflected. And for the first time in forever, I felt genuine excitement.