|
Anastagio turned the corner, the night had done him well, he'd had a chance to truely contemplate his words and actions, he knew that his brother would have done nothing but dwell on the day before. It was the key thing that really bothered Anastagio, he'd not refined his words, merely screamed them and vanished, something he'd not done too often in his life before. But there was one thing for certain in his mind, this life he lived was over, a new life was about to begin, he either followed his brother, worked together to defeat the fears and evil, or stood alone on, leaving the only family he had behind. What could he do, he knew that the life before him would never be over until death. A life time commitment, Anastagio wasn't ready, he knew he wasn't deep down, but the voice that echoed in his mind told him different, and for now, he had to listen to this voice. 'Family, the only thing that matters...' Whispered the voice, it was almost like insanity, and it was enough for Anastagio to give in.
He glanced at Giacomo, smiled softly and spoke in a gentle voice. "Let me handle this, please. I need to know how far I can go after all..." A none approving glance came from Giacomo as Anastagio led the two men into the shop. The butcher turned as the bell hanging idly from the door rang, the shop was empty and that of course was good news. Anastagio turned to his brother, and nodded. "Close the store for a moment please, brother." His brother placed his foot firmly against the door, pushing the steel latch across, still standing there and guarding the door, quickly giving the hanging sign a flip to reveal a 'closed' sign. It was now Anastagio's time to shine, finally see if he could really have that vital instinct to join, the mafia.
He leant over the counter and whispered to the bloody butcher, "Lemme round the back, I wanna talk about the Canelupo, and rumour has it you know a lot." The butcher staggered back in fear, brandishing his cleaver with a leather clad hand, yelling random Italian curse words. Anastagio rolled his eyes and took several steps back. He charged forward, leap frogging easily over the counter, now face to face witha mad butcher frantically swinging his knife at Anastagio. Sighing loudly, Anastagio swung his first forward, planting a heavy punch on the man's face like a pile of bricks. The butcher yelped in pain as the blood immediatly begun to gush from his broken nose, dribbling like water down over his lips and onto his chin. As each droplet fell from his chin, another tear of agony surfaced on the man's eye. Anastagio then grabbed onto the butcher's arm, snatching the meat cleaver from his hand and pressing the butcher against the wall with the cleaver brushing against his soft flesh. "Tell me what I've come to find out, where are the family based?" The butcher spat the bit of blood that he'd gathered in his mouth at Anastagio, this of course fed the rage that had manifested for many years within him, finally errupting in a state of desperation. This time Anastagio asked again with a more brutal tone, the edge of the blade pressing harder against the butcher's neck, the flesh had already begun to bleed, but not enough for it to cause much agony. "I'm asking you nicely you fuck, where is the fucking estate?!" It was startling how calm Anastagio's voice had stayed, volume wise anyway. This time he got the answer he desired. "Ok, ok, I'll tell you..."
The butcher detailed the drive to the estate, leaving the two men with only one job left, arriving.
Anastagio released the knife's plastic handle, allowing it to fall heavily against the ground. He then stepped back and free'd the butcher and letting the man stand up, shaking from fear, like Anastagio had intended. His exit from behind the counter was a more civilised one, lifting up the counter panel and stepping towards his brother. "Lead the way," Giacomo stepped from the door, letting the two men step out and head away, their job here was done. But the butcher wasn't going to go down without a fight, he turned quickly towards the telephone, throwing his hands at it like the last hope he had. He bashed in a number and pressed it against his ear. "You got a problem..."
Tag..
_________________
|
Login
FAQ
Search
