The Boss

As the guards escorted Frankie out to his limo, he experienced a familiar feeling of Deja Vu. As though he had done all of this before. As though he had executed this same exact set of motions in a past life. But it wasn't a past life at all. And it wasn't Deja Vu. Frankie HAD done this before. Many times in fact. And it was becoming a deadly routine.

"Watch your head boss." Said one of the goons paid to take him out on these 'adventures', or whatever they want to call them. As a mob leader in this particular area of town, it was Frankie's job to make sure that every vampire under his jurisdiction was acting in a manner that was beneficial to the whole. Anyone stepping out of line, anyone telling secrets that shouldn't be told, anyone who wasn't good for business...had to be taken care of...quickly. And tonight, Frankie was going to make sure that it was done right.

He sat in the back seat as the limo started out on its destination, numb to the whole experience of going out to murder someone he didn't even know. It didn't even seem like a big deal anymore. It was just 'business'. It was as easy as pressing the 'send' button for an email. So it wasn't the actual murder that bothered Frank in these quiet moments before carrying out a hit. It was all of the things that he left behind in order to live this life. The very ease of letting it all go, and the impossibility of ever getting it back. To have to constantly watch over the people in his 'urban stable'. Locked into the body of an 18 year old with shiny blue eyes, Frankie lived a good life, but not a happy one. Even when he knew he could have anything that he wanted without anything more than a simple request, it wasn't enough to put a genuine smile on his face. And then...there was Avery.

Avery was the one person that Frank loved more than life itself. A boy with long dark hair and dark brown eyes. A smile so alluring that it could melt the hardest man's heart. He was amazing. Avery captured Frank's heart from day one, and the two of them spent many lustful nights together as a couple. So what happened to it all? Why did he leave? Who knows? The fact of the matter is...he's gone. And it left Frank feeling so empty inside. So very empty inside.

Frankie's focus was shot back into reality, as he saw his goons raise and begin loading their weapons. The tinted windows of the limo hiding them from the sight of everyone on the street, they prepared to take their enemy quickly and efficently. Frank had nothing to worry about, he never had to pull a trigger if he didn't want to. He was the 'boss' afterall. If he weren't so stubborn, his boys would have told him to stay in the car until the building was clear. But they already knew that he wouldn't have it. He had to get his hands just as dirty, everytime. The limo pulled up to an old garage, turning it's lights off before turning into the driveway. And the second the engine cut off, all of the men stepped out of the car at the same time. Black suits, sunglasses, black leather gloves. The poor bastard won't even know what hit him until it's too late.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion from the second that the door was kicked in. The garage was occupied by a small pack of vampires, only four or five of them tops, and they weren't to be hurt. There was only one target for this evening, and no need for unneccessary wetworks. Frank's men spread out as soon as they entered the room, like a pair of black demon wings on either side of him. There were three of them sitting at a small card table in the middle of the room, another female was laying on the hood of a car in the background, and our target was underneath the hood of a truck, trying to fix it up, and completely unaware of our presence. The first shots blazed out almost instantly, clipping the three vampires at the table. Their arms shot up, legs now disabled, they fell to the floor helplessly. The woman screamed out, but it was already too late for her to move. A hail of gunfire shot through her and the windshield of the car she was laying on, enough bodily damage to knock her unconscious. Leaving only our target, who had been surrounded and detained by the time he was able to assess what was going on around him. It was already over...checkmate.

Frankie was momentarily returned to his thoughts again as his men tied their target to a chair and dragged him out to the middle of the dark room. It was time for his pokerface to kick in again. No weakness, no real emotion, no mercy. Frankie had to swallow it all, and demand the kind of respect that is only gained through paralyzing fear. He could hear the whimpers and pleas of the kid behind him as they strapped him down. He looked like he was maybe 19 years old, and definitely not a city boy. He had a slight southern accent, and had probably only moved up to that area recently to move in with his friends here. He was a newblood. Frank could smell the youthfulness in his blood. Maybe only a month or two into his crossover. And he had just fed for the first time a few days ago...and that's exactly why they had to pay him a visit that evening.

Pokerface on. "Reginald that right?" Frank asked, finally turning to face the young man in the chair.

"I didn't do nothin'! C'mon, I swear!" He pleaded.

Frank moved closer, and one of his men brough over a chair for him to sit in as well. Frankie spun it around backwards, straddling the seat and taking a hard long look at the hostage in front of him. His cold stare cut right through to the bone, and he allowed a long silence to pass before saying anything at all. Then, he camly and quietly uttered the words, "Really? You see...I hear different."

The young man shivered desperately, and a tear fell from his eye. " was a mistake! Ok? I didn't know! It was just a stupid STUPID mistake!"

"A 'mistake'? No, Reggie my friend. This was much more than a mistake."

One of Frankie's guards stepped in, "You killed a fucking SLAGHUNTER??? Are you NUTS??? You'll bring the feds down on ALL of us!" But Frank put his hand up to keep things calm until he had all the facts straight.

"I didn't know he was a slaghunter, I swear! I wasn't thinkin' straight. You know how it is, right? When the thirst gets a hold of ya? You'll eat anything. I didn't know he was a fed. I never would have done it had I known." Reggie began to cry, afraid for his life. Frank's pokerface, however...remained unchanged.

"This is a very serious offense, my friend. The US government is not very forgiving when it comes to losing their soldiers. The slaghunters are here to protect us from society. They clean up our messes, and they cover up our mistakes."

"I know, I know. You gotta believe me, I know!"

That is when Frank let his anger show, for the first time. "Then I'm sure you know that the single rule that we are required to NOT TO FEED ON THE FUCKING SLAGHUNTERS!!!!" Frank shot up out of his seat, sending the chair spinning over to the other corner of the room.

"I'm SORRY!!! I'm so so sorry!"

"You think SORRY is gonna take back what you did? Do you have any idea what they'll do to us if they find out that we let something like this slide? Do ya?" Frank looked down at the crying man, and sighed. Returning to his calm demeanor. "So...Mr. Reginald Darvey...what do you suppose we should do with you?" He asked. "We can't let you go. The feds would see that as a hostile gesture from our world to theirs. And we can't necessarily hide you anywhere. If it was this easy for US to find you, imagine how easy it would be with their resources and money. So exactly what do you have in mind?"

His eyes widened, and he panted, "I could run! Yeah, I could run far far away from here!" Frank began walking a slow circle around the chair, with him unable to turn his head and see him. He continued to babble away, "They wouldn't take it out on you guys! They wouldn't take it out on nobody! Not around here. They'd think I was just a rogue, acting on my own. Ya know? And if they find me, they do all the dirty work, and you don't have to worry about it." Frank wasn't convinced, now standing behind the chair, where he had stopped walking. "I could just...I could dissappear..." The man cried.

That's when Frankie leaned forward, and with a gentle, but firm hand on Reggie's shoulder...he whispered, "Dissappear. I kinda like that idea." Then, with a silent signal from his eyes, he warned the men to step aside.

Reggie looked in horror as he saw the men standing in front of him part to give him some space, and muttered a simple..."God help me..." Before feeling the harsh bullet blast out through his chest from behind! The blood splashed forward for quite some distance in front of him, and the pain was unbearable.

Although his pokerface was flawless, showing not a single sign of hesitation or regret, Frank felt that shot almost as badly as Reggie did. The turmoil he felt before pulling that trigger was much greater than anyone else in the room could have imagined. But it was 'business'. HIS business. And if he let his leadership slip for even a second, the same could happen to him. He looked down at Reggie as he screamed and cried, now knowing that his heart was damaged beyond repair, and that he would be a goner soon. There was no way for him to avoid it. The only mercy that Frank could show him, was to shoot him again, one bullet, in the back of his head. It would heal, but by the time he regained consciousness...he would only have a few hours left to live. Much better than the long agonizing hours of pain and suffering he'd have to endure otherwise.

"Let's move." He said, taking his troops out with him. And that was that. Mission accomplished. It should have just been another routine job, but this one was different somehow. It was the first time that Frankie thought twice about doing it at all. The first time that he thought about leaving this life behind, and if it would be as easy as the life he left behind before all of this happened. Doubtful. But one thing was sure...

Frank didn't want to do this anymore, and if he wanted out...he was going to need help. LOTS of it. It's time to make a few phone calls.


From the creator of "Gone From Daylight"

Alone, each one of them is a force to be reckoned with. But when all five UNITE...prepare for fireworks!!! Even the vampire Maffia has it's rebels...

"Pak Ratz"
It's showtime!

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