To Fireflyoflight457: Yesss! The MAFIA! DUN DUN DUNNN! Here, dry your eyes with this fresh new chapter!
To Lyn: XD! S'okay! Psychonauts and all its characters are awesome! This chapter may surprise you ;)
To Digitaldreamer: SQUEE! So glad you like it! Lyre-19 so happy! This fic is starting to grow on me over Loyalties as well…
Warning: this chapter contains adult themes such as (Implied to heavily implied and nondescript) rape/nonconsensual sex, violence, and drug and alcohol use.
Chapter Six
"I thought so." Lili said.
"And Mikhail?" Raz asked.
"I don't know. I haven't seen him in a long time. The last time I saw him, he was trying to kill Maloof." Benny said bitterly.
"Kill him? You're kidding me…" Raz breathed. Benny shook his head.
"Mikhail has been out to kill Maloof ever since the day Maloof turned his back on the Psychonauts." Benny said.
"I refuse that Maloof turned on the agency because he wanted to." Raz said.
"You're right to think that. Maloof did it to protect his family, Mikhail's family, and of course, Mikhail himself." Benny said.
"It started out as an undercover sting. Maloof went undercover to infiltrate the Mafia by becoming a Mafiosi himself. He wore a wire and all that stuff while Mikhail stayed nearby in a hotel or a truck and monitored the wires. The boss figured out that Maloof was actually with the Psychonauts. He managed to destroy the hidden surveillance equipment that Maloof had on him by dousing him with water. Then, he cornered him. He threatened to have Maloof's family, Mikhail's family, and Mikhail all killed if Maloof didn't cooperate with him. He had Maloof make a big scene to prove that he was really with the Mafia; and he's been trapped ever since." Benny explained.
"Why didn't the boss kill Maloof?" Raz asked. Benny's expression turned to one of the utmost loathing.
"Because Maloof is the boss's favorite toy." Benny muttered darkly. "He controls everything about Maloof. He doesn't care if Maloof catches pneumonia running around out in the snow in the dead of winter in those god damned shorts he makes Maloof wear! He doesn't care if Maloof gets hurt! He lets even the other Mafiosi have their way with him; as long as Maloof isn't fatally injured and his face remains unmarred!"
"Holy shit…" Lili muttered.
"So, it didn't take long for the agency to add Maloof to their 'wanted' list. Mikhail was the one that the agency sent to capture Maloof. At first, Mikhail didn't believe that Maloof had really turned; but the agency wouldn't listen to him. It wasn't long before the boss made sure that Mikhail was certain that Maloof had been using him all along. Mikhail hates Maloof for betraying him and breaking his heart. He knew that his mission was only to apprehend Maloof; but that wasn't enough to satisfy him. Mikhail wanted a sweeter vengeance, so he quit the agency and became a bounty hunter so that he could kill Maloof. He's been hunting Maloof ever since." Benny explained.
"How long have you known about this?" Lili asked, seizing Benny by the collar.
"Since I found him face down half dead in an alleyway about a month after he turned traitor." Benny muttered.
"You should have told somebody! You should have come to one of us!" Lili growled. "Just because you didn't become a Psychonaut like the rest of us doesn't mean you're any less important to us!"
Benny froze. Lili's words had rendered him speechless. Lili's expression softened. She loosened her grip on Benny.
"So you didn't run with the rest of the crowd and get a job with the Psychonauts. So what?" Lili said.
"I know I've been gone a long time and that you've probably changed a great deal in my absence…but I do know this…watching you direct those dancers…seeing you up on that stage…I can tell that it's what you were born to do. It's where you belong. I can tell that you have a great passion for theater. It makes you happy; and that's all that really matters." Raz said.
"Raz is right. None of us thinks any less of you for choosing a different profession…as a matter of fact…if you tell anyone I said this, you're dead…but…breaking away from the crowd like that…choosing your own path…it took guts, and you should be proud…" Lili said. "Your friends are proud of you. I'm proud of you."
Benny was truly touched. He stared glassy eyed at Lili. After a few moments, his expression faded into a grim one.
"Then how is it that Maloof was so easily forgotten?" Benny asked softly. Lili scowled.
"We never forgot about Maloof, Benny. The agency was keeping us in the dark about the whole thing. They're the ones who don't give a shit about Maloof. They just accepted the first implication that Maloof had turned, and deemed him a lost cause. They felt like it was a waste of time to look into just one agent gone bad. They dismissed it; and to keep anyone concerned about the situation from taking action, thus depriving the agency of their time; they only put out vague details and refused to say anything more on the subject." Lili said.
"The agency has become corrupt. It's gone to the dogs, Benny. I won't stand for it. Sasha wouldn't stand for it. He had the right idea. He took it upon himself to take action to change things; but because of all the underhanded tricks protecting the higher ups, Sasha had no choice but to play dirty as well. Yes, he was sent to prison, but we can't let that scare us. We need to keep his legacy alive! We need to rise up and do something! If we don't, who will?" Raz asked.
"We're going to do whatever it takes to help Maloof, because we, the rebels…we remember what being a Psychonaut is all about. No soldier gets left behind. Be thou for the people. All that kind of crap Raz used to spew back in our camping days." Lili said. "It's corny, no questions there…but it's what made the Psychonauts heroes all around the world. The world needs those heroes."
Benny bit his lip. Tears were pricking at his eyes.
"Th-that's what Maloof has always wanted to be. The Psychonauts betrayed him. They abandoned him. They crushed his dreams and ruined his life." Benny said, his voice breaking. "He never did anything to deserve this. It's so wrong! He's innocent, god damn it! All his life, he's been pushed around! I was the one who was always such a fucking prick! If anyone should be suffering like he is, it should be me!
"You say that like you've given up on finding a way to free him." Raz said. Benny jumped to his feet; his face drawn into a snarl.
"You have no idea how many hours I've spent searching for a way to help him! Not a minute passes that my mind isn't examining any possible way to help him!" Benny spat. "I will never give up on him."
A shimmer of warmth rose to Raz's eyes. A small smile tugged at his lips.
"Benny…you're in love with him, aren't you?" Raz more stated than asked.
Thisisthelinethatmeansthesceneischangingthisisthelinethatmeansthesceneischangin
Everyone paused from their festivities as the door swung open.
In walked a petite, slender, gracefully contoured figure with skin tanned to a heavenly hue of gold. There was plenty of said skin to be seen, as the figure wore (even in the dead of winter) denim shorts that should be illegal in 44 states for their fit. A pair of knee high black , steel-toed combat boots accented the sinfully long legs and made a soft clicking sound as they made contact with the tile floor. A simple, slightly large red sweater hung off of one shoulder, thus accenting the soft slope of those golden shoulders.
Unbeknownst to most, hidden beneath the folds of the sweater, a black holster hugged those smoothly curved hips to add a dash of alluring danger to the figure. Brown curls spilled haphazardly down to frame that familiar face perfectly. Deep midnight blue eyes shimmered in the bright light that the overhead lamp cast over the card players. The eyes danced as an amused smirk adorned those taunting soft lips; hiding the figure's underlying murderous thoughts.
He looked tired and a little pale in the face. However, Maloof Canola never did outgrow being short.
"Hey, baby! Whereya been?" Asked a tall, slightly heavyset man in his late twenties. He kept his long brown hair in a ponytail; completely oblivious to the fact that it was, in fact, the least sexy look for him. He wore a pair of sunglasses just like Sasha's, only, he was failed to be informed that they looked good…on Sasha. He wore a fancy pinstripe suit, as is the standard dress of a mob boss.
Maloof smiled coyly at the man and crossed the room to sit on his lap.
"Nowhere important, Boss." Maloof said, his voice like velvet. Maloof caressed the man's cheek sensually. A content, but dirty smirk came to the man's face. He rested his hands on Maloof's knees and let his hands trail up Maloof's thighs to his hips.
"You rang for me?" Maloof asked. The man smiled, greedily eyeing his prize piece of arm candy. The man sighed.
"You're my favorite trophy. Have I ever told you that?" The man asked.
"Yeah, but I never get tired of hearin' you say it." Maloof purred. In all reality, Maloof wanted nothing more than to hurl his guts out and kill the fucking bastard who now had his hands on his ass.
"Whenever you walk by, you leave people drooling. More importantly, you drive our friends in the Russian Mafia insane. Do you know how much money you save me? Just renting you out to the Russians for one night saves me millions, sweetheart." The boss said. The very thought made Maloof's skin crawl. He felt so helpless…so defiled…
The boss slapped Maloof's ass playfully, earning a surprised squeak from Maloof. The boss loved doing that.
"I got me a multi-million dollar piece of ass right here." The man gloated. Maloof managed a flirty giggle.
"And I suppose the fact that you put this ass in jewel-embroidered lingerie has nothin' ta do with its heightened value?" Maloof said.
"Baby, your ass is worth millions in a potato sack. Besides, it's only the best in designer labels for my baby." Said the boss. Somehow, that didn't quite strike Maloof as flattering. He giggled and smiled anyway.
"I take it that that means you like the new clothes I got you." The boss said, kissing Maloof's neck.
"I love 'em." Maloof said.
He was lying. He hated the short, skin-tight black leather shorts embroidered with sapphires and diamonds that the boss had given him. He hated the delicate sterling silver belt with its delicately inlaid sapphires designed to hang at an angle from his hips to accent them. He hated the overly large white cashmere sweater that hung off one shoulder. He hated the black leather vest that was lined with the fur of rare snow leopard cubs with its sterling silver zipper and buttons and its sash made of the tails of the snow leopard cubs. He hated the black leather fingerless gloves. He hated the knee high steel toed black leather boots lined and trimmed at the top again with the fur of a rare and innocent snow leopard cub.
They served as a reminder of the fact that he was and would always be nothing more than a slave of the mafia. Oh, how he despised to acknowledge it, but the Barbie Girl song by Aqua was the story of his freaking life…The only difference was that Maloof was not a girl with bleach blonde hair and huge jugs.
The really scary thought was that, if the boss wanted it, those differentiating factors between Maloof and Barbie could be eliminated. And it wasn't the doll that would be doing the changing.
The rest of Maloof's miserable life would be dictated by Mafiosi higher on the chain; from the dirty work he was assigned right down to the very clothes he wore. He was theirs to use and abuse in whatever way they damn well pleased until he was inevitably killed; whether that happened at the hands of the Mafiosi getting bored with him or at the hands of one of his many, many enemies.
Maloof often pondered saving them the trouble and just putting himself out of his own misery. Every time he tried, he couldn't seem to go through with it. Every time, something stopped him. Whether it was fear or the overwhelming guilt of having all of Benny's hopes and prayers and encouraging gestures that Maloof would one day be free flutter out the window, Maloof wasn't sure what held him back. But at the same time, he knew exactly what bound him to the living world.
Piercing ruby red eyes.
They made him feel weak in the knees. They made his heart pound. Maloof had a secret desire. He secretly hoped that his ex-partner would take his revenge on him. His ex-partner deserved the pleasure. His ex-partner would be happy; and that would make Maloof happy. Dying didn't seem such a grim thing to Maloof…if it was by his hands.
"I'm glad you like them. I want you to wear them tonight." The boss said, interrupting Maloof's train of thought.
"What are we doing tonight?" Maloof asked, his coy smile returning.
"I'm taking you out with me tonight. We're having another sit-down with our Russian Mafiosi friends; and you know how they like to look at you." The boss said. Dread built in Maloof's chest, but he smiled to hide it.
The boss would parade Maloof around for the Russians to ogle; and if they really liked what they saw or just felt like indulging themselves, they would cut the boss a deal in his favor in return for the boss to whore Maloof out to them for the night. When Maloof had these little 'sleepovers' with the Russians, they were free to do whatever they wanted with Maloof. They could send him out to help with the dirty work, serve as a punching bag, or, most often times, entertainment. The only rule that they had to agree to was that Maloof would not suffer fatal injury and his face would not be marred.
The boss let out a hearty laugh.
"Baby, you are the best weapon in my arsenal. The Russians are too distracted with you to pay attention to the deals they're cutting. They loose their poker faces and I always come out on top!" The boss said. Maloof wanted to roll his eyes.
Ruliano was so stupid! He was the boss of Italian Mafia affairs in his region. He was also Maloof's 'master'; the man whose lap he was currently seated upon like some prissy, spoiled little lapdog.
Discovering that Maloof was with the Psychonauts and blackmailing him into servitude was the smartest thing that the cocky, ugly, high school dropout had ever done. Maloof guessed that it was the man's overwhelming lust for him that temporarily endowed him with a sudden burst of smarts that proved to be enough to expose him. The burst didn't last long; but it lasted long enough for Ruliano to seal Maloof's fate. The victory greatly inflated Ruliano's ego.
"Bring a psychic in was the best thing that's ever happened to the mafia! Who cares that they're freaks? You psychics got plenty uh advantages ta make up fer being freaks. I can't believe that someone didn't think to bring a psychic into the ranks sooner! So long as they're loyal and hard workers and have that pure Italian blood, I don't see why psychics shouldn't be allowed into the mafia." Ruliano said. Maloof giggled and cuddled up to his chest.
"Well, big daddy, the mafia ain't never had a genius of your caliber to lead 'em." Maloof purred.
He thought himself to be quite the intelligent, funny, debonair, seductive, persuasive, dangerous gentleman and self-proclaimed sex god. Ruliano believed that he was revered by all, lusted after by many, and the kind of guy that everyone liked.
Psh, like hell he was! Ruliano was just the opposite of what he thought himself to be! The only reason that his men followed him and continued to boost his ego was because he was the boss (and the only reason he got the title was because he was the favorite of his senile old uncle, who had been the well-respected boss before he named Ruliano boss in his stead) and most of the men were just as stupid or, if at all possible, even dumber than their boss was.
The Russian Mafiosi, like Maloof, were well aware of Ruliano's ego; and, unfortunately for Ruliano, they were genuinely intelligent. They would ensure that, in the end, Ruliano's ego would be his downfall.
Preparations for Ruliano's downfall were, in fact, being made at that very moment in a strip club just across town.
Thisisthelinethatmeansthesceneischangingthisisthelinethatmeansthesceneischangin
Benny's expression saddened.
"I'm not the one he was meant to be with." Benny said softly. Raz put a hand on Benny's shoulder and nodded understandingly.
"Why do you say that?" Lili asked.
"Maloof belongs with Mikhail." Benny said. Lili raised an eyebrow at Benny.
"Uh…hello!? Didn't you say that Mikhail wanted to kill Maloof?" Lili asked. "Okay, I'm officially lost."
Benny and Raz looked at each other and exchanged a look that told of shared, unspoken understanding; and Lili was the odd man…er…girl out.
"I understand what Benny is getting at." Raz said.
"Well I don't!" Lili said.
"It's…very hard to explain…" Raz said, searching for a possible way to word his thoughts.
"It's just something I can feel. He and Mikhail belong together. Somehow…whatever happens between them…that isn't going to change." Benny said. Lili pondered this for a moment. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and shrugged.
"Whatever, Dr. Phil." Lili muttered.
"Well, it's like the bond that we share, Lili." Raz said, slipping his arms around Lili's waist.
"We're meant to be together. You, and I, and everyone around us knew it from day one. Even after I was believed to be dead, you didn't have any interest in any other person. You were at peace. You knew that we belonged together. It was the same with me, Lili. Even though I didn't remember who you were, I always felt that I already knew who I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. I never took any interest in anyone else." Raz said.
Feeling his arms around her…looking into those green eyes; brimming with some indescribable something…It made Lili feel weak in the knees. Her heart fluttered, her breath caught in her chest…she felt sick, but it was a good kind of sick. She got a natural high off of it and she loved it. Her walls came tumbling down and she knew that that same indescribable something had come over her own countenance. Raz made her feel like she was something beautiful…a real woman…and, she'd never admit it, but she loved how he and no one else could made her turn to putty in his hands.
Raz smiled that heart-melting smile and gently grasped her hands in his.
"This feeling." He said simply. Lili nodded slowly. Benny smiled sadly and nodded as well.
"That's the one. I don't know what to call it, but when Maloof even thinks about Mikhail…every star in the heavens appears in his eyes." Benny said softly.
"I have no business coming between them. My place right now is to be his friend…someone to lean on. I need to keep my feelings to myself. I just need to be patient. Someday, I'll find someone who feels the same way about me as I feel about Maloof." Benny said. Raz patted Benny on the shoulder.
"Not everyone is so strong, Benny." Raz said. A small smile came to Raz's face. "You really have changed."
Benny smiled back at Raz and stood.
"So, what is my first assignment as a rebel?" Benny asked. Raz smiled at Benny.
"Our first priority will be to secure our comrades." Raz said. "We need to find Maloof before disaster finds him first."
"What's the plan?" Benny asked.
"Well, let's get to work on one." Raz said.
Thisisthelinethatmeansthesceneischangingthisisthelinethatmeansthesceneischangin
Tall and with well defined muscles, Mikhail Bulgakov was nothing to laugh at. His defiant stance, stone cold expression, and piercing ruby red eyes made him a very intimidating figure. Mikhail's appearance had become the very definition of badass.
He'd gotten rid of the comically large red fur hat he used to wear, which put his short, jet black hair in plain view. He had a single piercing in his left ear. Around his neck was what appeared to be a simple black leather choker necklace with silver spikes, but the black leather concealed a thin metal plate that would protect his neck during a fight. The same went for the matching bracelets…or more appropriately, gauntlets on his wrists. He wore a black t-shirt with a dark red turtleneck under it (which concealed a protective vest), a pair of black cargo pants (several of which's pockets were concealing weapons), and a pair of black steel toed combat boots.
What, may you ask, was Mikhail doing in a strip club? Well, hold your horses, I was getting to that…
As I said, Mikhail was standing there looking scary and sexy while he guarded the door (from inside the room) of one of the club's private rooms. He listened intently as the four men inside the room conversed in his native tongue.
"We need to talk about Ruliano." Said an older gentleman with graying hair. The other three men sneered.
"He's been cutting us some pretty crappy deals as of late." A bespectacled man agreed. The others nodded.
"Yeah. He thinks that letting us borrow that cute little piece of ass that he keeps on his arm that we'll agree to any deal." Said a man with a dark beard.
"He's a nice little toy for certain. Hard worker, does a good job, can take a beating like you wouldn't believe…puts up a real fight when you try to get him into bed, but hey, once he's too exhausted to fight back anymore, it's well worth the struggle." A dark haired man around the same age as Mikhail said with a lecherous grin. The other men chuckled.
"I'm not saying he's not a nice toy. It's just that Ruliano is starting to overplay his value. We're getting some pretty undervalued compromises in exchange for being allowed to play with Ruliano's toy. Ruliano's getting cheap on us." Said the man with the glasses.
"I agree. He's getting way too big for his britches." Said the man with the beard.
"He's been infringing on our territory and profiting off our spots. He's overstayed his welcome." The dark haired man agreed.
"My thoughts exactly." Said the older gentleman.
"So, what do you want us to do, boss?" the dark haired man agreed. The older gentleman smirked.
"Tonight, we'll be having another sit-down with our dear friend Mr. Ruliano. This time, it will be us who decides the deal. Our deal will be this: we're cutting Ruliano out of the picture permanently." The older gentleman said. The others smirked as well.
"You planned this all along, didn't you, Boss?" Asked the dark haired man. The older gentleman chuckled softly and nodded.
"I've been accepting shitty deals to build Ruliano's already over inflated ego." The older man said.
"It should be easy taking care of him." Said the man with the glasses. The man with the beard nodded.
"You're one sharp tack, Boss! I see what you've done! Ruliano has become overconfident. He believes we don't realize that he's been giving us the short end of these deals. He thinks he's 'worked his charm' on us and that we don't suspect a thing. He thinks he's earned our trust. The fool will waltz right into our trap without suspecting a thing. He won't even see the need to bring a body guard! " the dark haired man sneered.
"Boy is he in for a big surprise tonight." The man with the beard chuckled.
"So, who's going to make the hit?" The man with the glasses asked. Mikhail approached the men intently.
"Excuse me, sirs…but would you grant me the privilege of acting as body guard during that sit down?" Mikhail asked. "I fear for your safety, sirs. As you said, Ruliano is overconfident. There is a possibility that he may be planning to take you out of the picture."
The four men pondered this for a moment.
"You have a good point, Bulgakov." The man with the glasses said.
"Sirs…have I been a good soldier to you?" Mikhail asked. The four men looked back and forth from one another to Mikhail.
"Yes, son. You've been an excellent soldier to us. One of the best." The older gentleman said.
"Would I be imposing to request a favor?" Mikhail asked.
"That depends on the favor." The man with the glasses said.
"Please…once Ruliano is dead, would you allow me to deal with his consort?" Mikhail asked. The four men looked back and forth from each other to Mikhail.
"Why do you ask for this?" The man with the glasses asked.
"What do you intend to do with him?" The dark haired man asked. The older gentleman raised his hand to silence the two.
"That is not important. Bulgakov, you have proven yourself to be a loyal, diligent, hard working man. You've never complained or hesitated to do what you've been asked or failed to complete a job. You've never caused any trouble or asked anything of any of us." The older gentleman said.
"In light of all of this, I will grant you your request as a reward for your service. You will accompany us to the sit-down tonight, and once Ruliano is dead, his consort is yours to do with whatever you please." The older gentleman said. Mikhail bowed respectfully to the man.
"You have my deepest gratitude, sir." Mikhail said.
"Well, with that said, meeting adjourned." Said the older gentleman. "Everyone meet back here at nine o'clock tonight prepared for our little meeting with our friend Mr. Ruliano."
Mikhail got back to his apartment as quickly as he could. Once inside, he locked the door and closed the blinds. He strode into the bedroom and opened the bottom drawer of his dresser. An entire deadly arsenal was stored inside. A cold, satisfied smile crept onto Mikhail's face as he studied his arsenal. He picked up his hand gun and its cleaning kit and sat down on the bed.
He opened up the cleaning kit and began maintenance on the gun to prepare it for the sit-down. Mikhail could care less about Ruliano. Killing him would be tediously easy. It was Ruliano's consort that Mikhail was so eager to get his hands on. Just the thought of it was almost enough to make Mikhail shudder with anticipation.
At last, after two long years of busting his ass to find him and several unsuccessful encounters, Mikhail would finally feel those soft brown curls and that smooth golden skin under his hands once again. Yes. How wonderful it would be to seize that little traitor by the hair and beat that smooth golden skin black and blue.
And those eyes. Those midnight blue eyes that seemed to contain the heavens themselves in their depths. Oh, yes. The traitor would be seeing stars tomorrow night; that is, until Mikhail shot them down one by one. After tomorrow night, there would be no more stars to light up those midnight blue eyes. Those eyes would be overcast by clouds; dark, listless, and dull by the time Mikhail was finished.
Oh, how he relished the thought! Maloof Canola would rue the day that he betrayed Mikhail Bulgakov!
Mikhail honestly believed that Maloof completed his life…right up until the day he destroyed it.
Yes. There was a time when Mikhail's feelings toward Maloof had been simply indescribable. That four letter word…love…it just didn't seem to express the feeling to its fullest magnitude.
As we all know, Mikhail's relationship with Maloof had started out innocently enough. Maloof was always on the small side and was the butt of more than his fair share of ridicule. Mikhail was tall and strong and new to the USA and didn't have any real friends. He also happened to have a good sense of justice.
Mikhail wouldn't tolerate seeing the smaller boy bullied. He hated to see people cry. So, Mikhail took a stand and chased off Maloof's tormentors. The two became fast friends. Soon friendship turned to partnership.
For almost a year, the operation to infiltrate the mafia went smoothly. Maloof, being the little New Jersey firecracker that he was, would pick a fight; and if he got in over his head, Mikhail would be right there to bail him out, laugh at him (which would throughtly piss Maloof off), and lecture him. Said lecture would go in one ear of the stubborn, hard-headed teen and right out the other, and the cycle would begin again.
It wasn't long before their partnership turned to courtship. For Mikhail, nothing gave him a bigger rush than to simply sit on the couch in the dark and watching a movie with Maloof cuddled up to his chest.
Their relationship had always been simple like that. It wasn't just because Maloof was under aged; it was more that Mikhail was contented merely to be with Maloof. He liked their relationship just the way it was; slow and steady. He didn't see any need to take it to the next level. Life was good for Mikhail…that is, until he discovered that Maloof had been stringing him along like a puppy on a leash all along.
"Yeah, we had a cute little thing going between us...five years ago back in summer camp. I know how you love to protect me; so I let you. You've got a great ass, a face carved by angels, the sinewy body of a god, and gorgeous eyes…and not a bad personality either. You also had the perfect measure of obliviousness. I let you think that I was some naïve, short tempered guy with height issues who always seemed to get in over his head. In reality, I've been more than capable of protecting myself for years now. My family…my fellow Mafiosi…they taught me how to fight! They helped me develop my street smarts and taught me how to be underhanded so that I could dupe saps like you! Nothing personal, cutie. It's just the way we take care of business here in New Jersey."
That may have convinced the agency, but Mikhail didn't believe a word. Mikhail was assigned to take Maloof down. He managed to track Maloof down and confronted him.
"I was never with the Psychonauts! I started working for the mafia not even a month after my dad got whacked! I've been with them for two years, Mikhail; right under your nose! I've been an inside spy for the Mafia since day one!"
Mikhail was so confused. Maloof got away easily. Still, Mikhail refused to believe that, after all the beautiful moments that they had shared, Maloof didn't love him. He refused to give up on Maloof. He refused to believe that Maloof was a traitor.
"All muscle and no brains. You are an idiot, Bulgakov! I can't believe you actually bought all that lovey-dovey shit! You're such a sap! God, it was so god awful it took everything I had not to gag!"
He had laughed. Maloof had laughed as he said those words. His eyes had been so cold and convicting. The words had cut Mikhail so deeply that he could only watch as the love of his life disappeared from sight yet again. Mikhail was in denial. It couldn't possibly be true! He loved Maloof and Maloof loved him back! They were meant for each other! They were soul mates! They belonged together! Mikhail couldn't stand it! He needed Maloof! Maloof was everything to him! He had become infatuated…obsessed with finding him. Mikhail had to try one more time.
"It was fun while it lasted, hon; but get it through your thick skull already: Tiny. Boss. No. Need. Misha. Tiny boss no give rat ass about Misha. Misha stupid. Tiny boss trick stupid Misha. Stupid Misha go back to cave home with bears in Russia now and get hell out of Tiny Boss's sight before Tiny Boss throw up. You annoy tiny boss."
Then, one of Maloof's Mafiosi friends shot Mikhail in the arm. With Mikhail overcome by physical and emotional pain, Maloof and his friends made yet another easy escape.
Mikhail wandered soullessly around the city for days without food, water, or rest. He didn't return to his hotel room, he didn't change his clothes…he didn't even try to bother with doing anything to treat the gunshot wound to his arm. Those few days were a blur of an empty, cold, throbbing ache that gripped Mikhail so utterly…it was all over his body…it was stabbing his heart…it plagued his mind…it was ripping at his very soul.
Eventually, Mikhail collapsed somewhere and an upstanding citizen found him and called an ambulance. Mikhail often found himself wishing that he hadn't been found. He wished that he'd just been allowed to die. It would have spared him so much pain. He woke up in small city hospital a few days later. For many days following that, a fluid drip and a sleeping drug were the only things keeping Mikhail alive. That throbbing was still there. He wouldn't speak, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't sleep, and he wouldn't drink.
One day, as he wasted away in that hospital bed…a wisp of his own consciousness that still stirred within him acknowledged that he had lost his will to live. So, Mikhail closed his eyes and waited for death's welcome release. But, lying there waiting to die, that wisp of consciousness brought him to realize that, although he had lost his will to live, his obsession with Maloof lived on; and it wouldn't let Mikhail die…
And so it came to be that Mikhail was forced to live on; but for the sole purpose of end his obsession with Maloof so that Mikhail could finally be allowed to die.
It was Maloof's fault. It was all Maloof's fault.
At one time, Mikhail lived to see the heavens themselves sparkle back at him in Maloof's midnight blue eyes. His smile, his laugh, his scent, his hair, his face…every aspect of Maloof infatuated Mikhail. His obsession of love quickly became an obsession of hate. He hated how Maloof made him love him so.
His fantasies of inspiring Maloof's eyes to sparkle…of coaxing a smile onto his lips…of luring forth his musical laughter…of stealing a sweet kiss…they all became dark and twisted.
He instead fantasized of striking fear into Maloof's eyes….of eliciting beautiful screams of agony and terror from his lips…he wanted to see Maloof broken on the floor. He wanted to see Maloof cry. He wanted to taste Maloof's sweet blood and spill it onto the cold, hard ground.
One thing that didn't change was that Mikhail still longed to steal one more kiss from Maloof.
He would wait until Maloof was broken and crying on the ground. He wanted Maloof to fear him. He wanted to make sure Maloof knew that he was no longer 'the sap he had duped'. He would show Maloof how ruthless he could be. Maloof would feel the same coldness that he had shown Mikhail. Maloof would experience the same helplessness he felt as a child before he died. Mikhail would dominate Maloof so utterly that Maloof would just lie on the ground curled up into a ball with his eyes squeezed shut and his ears covered and cry; but Mikhail wouldn't let him do that. He would continue to terrorize Maloof until Maloof was but a shadow of his former self.
All conscious thought would be beaten out of him. He would be naught but a frightened, helplessly trapped animal facing his last few moments of life. That was when Mikhail would do it. He wanted Maloof to get a taste of the passion that he instilled in Mikhail. He would pin Maloof beneath him and take that last kiss from Maloof and see the look in his midnight blue eyes. One last time, he would trail his mouth down Maloof's neck and caress his blood-matted curls and his soft face. Once Mikhail's trail of kisses reached Maloof's collarbone, Mikhail's hands would have trailed down to rest on Maloof's neck.
The strike would be sudden and swift. With his bare hands, Mikahil would size Maloof's neck. His fingers would dig into that soft, warm flesh until his knuckles turned white. With all his might, he would constrict Maloof's neck; and he'd watch and laugh as he watched the last of Maloof's life drain from his eyes.
Then, his vengeance would be complete.
For over a year now Mikhail had been waiting for this night. Mikhail had several previous encounters in which he had tried and failed to kill Maloof. Maloof had just been lucky; he had managed to escape Mikhail thus far. Mikhail would make sure that all the luck in the universe wouldn't spare his prey from him this time.
Mikhail had it all worked out this time. He, like Maloof, had disguised himself and worked his way into the mafia. The Russian mafia. Mikhail knew that Maloof would never expect to run into Mikhail on Maloof's playing field. It would be all the sweeter beating Maloof at his own game. It would make Maloof's obliteration all the more complete; thus, for Mikhail, all the more satisfying.
Yes. It was the perfect plan. Mikhail would soon have his revenge. The time was near. In just hours, Mikhail would finally end his obsession with Maloof Canola once and for all.
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With shaking hands, Maloof loaded the hypodermic needle to the max and jabbed it into his arm; wincing at the momentary pain, but sighing in relief as the drug filled his veins. He allowed himself to collapse onto the floor.
He stared at the ceiling as his hands mechanically went to his pocket to remove and light a cigarette. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he deeply inhaled the nicotine-loaded smoke. He propped himself up against the table and reached up to grab the bottle of liquor. He took a long draft of it before taking another drag of his cigarette.
He was addicted. He knew he was. He hated his addiction, but sometimes, it was the only thing holding his mind together.
Morphine offered him a brief release from the maelstrom of guilt that raged constantly in his mind. For some short period of time, the drug would wipe his mind clean of any and all thought; allowing Maloof some blissful period of numbness.
He would be free from the pain of the beatings he received; but more importantly, his mind would go blissfully blank.
He would forget his own helplessness. He would forget the abuse he suffered. He would forget his captivity. He would forget that he was doomed to forever go on living by the whims of a perverted, stupid, ugly, gay mob boss. He would forget that he was living a lie. He would forget the screams, and pleads…the cries and sobs of the victims of the crimes he was forced to commit. Their faces and eyes filled with terror would blur into nothing.
He would forget that he had no friends. He only had enemies, and worse enemies. Ally and enemy would meld and fade. He would forget about everyone…police, other criminals, former friends…being after him. He would be immune to the agony of abandonment. He would forget his own betrayal. He would be free from the pain of thinking about him.
A grim smile came to Maloof's lips.
Yes. Once the drug overcame him, all thoughts plaguing him would cease. Mikhail would be meaningless to him.
A mix between a chuckle and a sob escaped Maloof.
What would Mikhail think if he saw Maloof now? Like this? Doing drugs and writhing in self hatred over his life. A whore of the mafia in appearance and action. A flunky to a greasy mafia-boss wannabe high school drop out. A puppet on a string. A Barbie doll who's every action was dictated by its owner.
Maloof collapsed onto the floor and stared up at the ceiling absently.
"Benny wouldn't be too happy about this either if he found out…" Maloof thought to himself blandly. He just shrugged and brought the joint back to his lips. He could feel the effects of the drug beginning to numb his body and emotions.
Maloof sighed, letting his eyes slip closed. His body was beginning to feel heavy and his mind was slowing. His hurricane of maddening thoughts slowed to a gently wafting breeze. Faces of people he knew danced gently in and out of sight.
He thought about Benny.
His passion for theater was great. He loved his job.
Whenever Maloof could, he'd show up at the theater to watch rehearsals. Maloof knew every line spoken or sung…every tune of every song…every step of every dance in every play that Benny had performed. He knew them so well that Maloof would often fill in for absent actors during rehearsals or help demonstrate or direct scenes.
In his drug-dazed train of thought, Maloof thought of Benny himself as a sort of drug. It was times such as those, when he'd be in the theater with Benny during rehearsals, that Benny could sometimes make Maloof forget all his troubles. It was times like that that Benny could bring a smile to Maloof's face….why, he could even make Maloof laugh!
Benny was the only person that cared about him. Ever since Benny found him face down in the gutter a month after Maloof first betrayed the agency, Benny had been there for Maloof.
Funny, successful, independent…Benny was doing well for himself. He had developed into a kind and passionate man. Benny had picked Maloof up off of the streets that night a month after Maloof had turned traitor. Benny had carried Maloof to his house, treated his injuries, fed him, and comforted him.
Benny didn't mind that Maloof was in the mafia. For reasons far beyond Maloof's comprehension, Benny thought no less of Maloof.
But Benny did care. Benny cared a great deal that Maloof was in the mafia. He was always trying to think of some way to get Maloof out.
Benny would never turn Maloof in to the police. Benny still had hope for Maloof, even when Maloof had none for himself. Maloof knew that he was always welcome at Benny's place. Benny was always there to soothe Maloof's injuries and give Maloof a shoulder to cry on.
Maloof chuckled softly to himself. He took another drag of his cigarette.
It had been a long time since Maloof had last cried in front of Benny. He had learned to deal with abuse and pain of all sorts. Nightmares, rape, voices and visions of innocent victims, beatings, police chases, sit-downs, gang fights…Maloof had seen it all. Experienced it all. Rather than burdening Benny with his problems, Maloof toughened up and handled them himself. He was no longer the crybaby that he used to be. He was a hardened New Jersey Mobster…at least…that's the front he put up.
Maloof couldn't help but feel touched when Benny fussed over him. Benny was constantly concerned about Maloof. Every time they saw one another, Benny would fuss that Maloof needed to eat more and dress more warmly; all the stuff that friends and family would say to each other.
Benny was the only one who could make Maloof feel…loved. Smiling…laughing…feeling light and joyful and without care…they were things Maloof experienced nowhere else but there in the theater with Benny.
Well…almost nowhere else. There was one other thing that could give Maloof a natural high.
Mikhail
Every time he heard that name…every time he saw something that reminded him of his ex-partner, there would be a brief second when Maloof's heart would skip a beat and begin to flutter wildly. His breath would catch in his chest and heat would rise to his cheeks. It was only for a brief, fleeting second.
After that second, it would all come rushing back to him.
Maloof had said so many horrible things to Mikhail. Mikhail had been shot because of him.
Maloof lied Mikhail. He had to do it! If he hadn't, the Mafiosi would have beaten Maloof until he was barely coherent, then BANG!
But it would not be for Maloof. Oh, no.
First, it would be Mikhail's family. Then, Maloof would be forced to watch as Mikhail reached the peek of suffering, mourning over the loss of his family. Then, Mikhail would be beaten to the brink of unconsciousness right in front of Maloof, and then…
BANG!
Mikhail would be the next to go. It would be Maloof's finger on the trigger, too. The Mafiosi would put the gun in Maloof's hands, hold Mikhail still, and pressure Maloof's hand until his finger squeezed the trigger. Then, Maloof would be forced to dig a hole and burry Mikhail himself. As soon as that was done, another beating would ensue, then it would be off to Maloof's house…The Canola Oil Diner.
BANG!
The same way as it happened with Mikhail, Maloof would be forced to kill his own mother, dig a hole, and bury her. There would be one more beating, then …
BANG!
Finally, Maloof would get his bullet and it would all be over.
The beatings, Maloof couldn't care less about. He couldn't care less if the Mafiosi tortured him to a slow and agonizing death; so long as Mikhail and his family were spared from any sort of suffering. He could never live with himself…or die with himself for that matter…if he allowed something so horrible to befall his soul mate.
Yes, Maloof was as in love with Mikhail as Mikhail was in love with Maloof. Of all the passion filled words of romance in all the plays Benny had performed, Maloof could never find the words to describe his feelings for Mikhail. Mere words were but sweet nothings when if came to Maloof's love for Mikhail.
Every day, going through life without Mikhail and being reminded of his betrayal of Mikhail was more painful than any beating Maloof had ever taken.
Every hateful word he had to say to Mikhail to keep Mikhail away was more painful than any stab wound; and when Maloof gave the signal for one of his fellow Mafiosi to fire the pre-planned non-fatal shot to Mikhail, it was more agonizing than any bullet Maloof had ever taken.
But, it kept Mikhail from sniffing about. It made Mikhail find Maloof repulsive.
It was a comfort to Maloof that Mikhail found him repulsive. Mikhail deserved much better. Maloof had grown hardened and rough. His innocence was gone. He was sullied, defiled, and marred. Mikhail deserved purity and innocence. Mikhail deserved someone gentle and soft.
It was good that Mikhail hated him. Mikhail would be able to kill him without any remorse and he'd find someone he deserved with whom he and his family could live happily ever after.
Maloof was glad that Mikhail hated him.
Why, Maloof had even convinced himself that the soul wrenching tears he cried into his pillow when he thought about Mikhail at times like this were tears of joy.
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Will Raz, Lili, and Benny find Mikhail and Maloof in time to prevent Elka's vision from coming true, or will they arrive too late? Find out in the next exciting installment of Up Against the World!
A Notice to My Friends, the Readers:
M'kay, you guys. I have something to tell you all that fills me with squeetastic glee and gut wrenching dread, because you probably won't be happy with me about it.
I've been invited to the People to People Student Ambassador Program on a trip to visit the Imperial Capitals of Europe (Raz's homeland of Lithuania, Mikhail's homeland of Russia, Sasha's homeland of Germany, the Czech Republic, Poland, Latvia, and Estonia), and, as long as I can scrounge up the money, my parents are going to let me go! ULTRASQUEEEEE (x1withanumberofzerosbeyondwhichthereisanumbertoexpressit)!!!!!
This, unfortunately for you, means that I will have time to update even less often than I am now. The sum of money that I shall have to come up with is an estimated $6,000.
So, on top of my schoolwork, drama club (again, you will not like me for this…I landed the lead role…AGAIN! SQUEE…SCREAM(dodges pointy object)), my volunteer work as Teachers Assistant at my school with a Geography class and a Science class of 17 kids 2nd grade and under (the teacher really does benefit from my help, bless her heart), plus the art club booth at the flea market (which, bless my art class, since the booth was my idea to raise money for the school, they insist on channeling a cut of our earnings to fund my trip!), I'm getting a job at Walgreens! - …0 0 EEEK! (dodges another pointy object)
- - so, in short, for the next…lots of months, I'm going to be one overloaded 16-year-old….
(dodges hailstorm of pointy objects)
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