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Enough to pay for the Coffin


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Greely Point Docks
Bedlam City Wisconsin

Monday, November 5th, 2018
11:02 PM

 

Greely Point was one of the few areas of Bedlam experiencing a period of economic growth.  Of course at the center of that upturn were the docks controlled by the Gorganzua crime family.  At any given if you knew just were to look the family could be making a "move" on behalf of anyone willing to pay the right dollar.  Of course that took knowing where to look.  The police didn't have to look the other way, as a majority of the trade in the docks were legitimate.  The Gorganzua golden goose only laid an egg when it needed to.

 

Vincent Elizalde was a straight C student who worked hard after school on the family business.  Of course that family business just happened to be working for the Scarpia crime family.  Vincent was a courier for the family.  Too young to get his hands on "real crime" but old enough to know where his future was headed.  College was out of the question, and since he wasn't Sicillan but Basque being a made man was out of the question.  But, he could live comfortably if he showed his worth to the family.  That ambition led the teenager and four of his closest friends to the Greely docks.  Square in the middle of Gorganzua territory.

 

The teens were planning on robbing a Gorganzua shipment that was arriving shortly.  It was rare for the Gorganzua to let slip that they were expecting a shipment.  But, even rarer for them to actively send an armed escort to meet the freighter.  Whatever was inside was sure to make someone a lot of money.  Which in Bedlam could only mean the locals were going to pay a heavy price.

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Mister Strix flew across the Bedlam City skyline as a cloud of mist, blending with the foggy night of late fall.

 

I've started from a better position than most when it comes to investigating the Bedlam City Mafia. The son of Scarpia capo Mo Giordano couldn't help but see some faces and hear some names while growing up in that house. And these days there are more old faces than new ones. Admittedly, even with that head start, I'm only barely starting to put together the big picture, and I'm still lacking in details. But every time I manage to ambush one of Dad's goons, every time I get a taste of their blood, I steal another piece of the puzzle.

 

He set down on the roof of a warehouse on the Greely docks with all the noise of a gentle snowfall. His black eyes watched for the Gorganzua button-men, their precious cargo, and anyone else with designs on it.

 

I wasn't surprised to learn that the Scarpias already knew about the incoming Gorganzua cargo. The one thing everyone in Bedlam has in common is that none of us are good at our jobs. As a crimefighter, I'm still an amateur, while The Mob is every bit as incompetent and short-sighted as the city's legitimate administrators. True professionals wouldn't have bled the city dry like they have. I don't expect the Scarpias to interfere tonight. They're greedy, but they're also cowards. Whatever the Gorganzuas are bringing in, it's probably not worth starting a war over, and I think even the Scarpias know that. But I need to know what that cargo is. Even if no one else makes a play for it, it's probably still a piece I'll want to take off the table.

 

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It could not be understated the strong mixture of scents one could find in a dock or pier.  Especially when under the lens of a canine's nose.  A tarry wood pine smell underpinning of creosote, tar, and the unmistakable smell of garbage.  If he was in his "human" form Hellhound would not be quite as distracted by the flurry of smells bombarding his nose.  However, he had decided to stake out the docks as a wolf.  With the added consequence of every instinct telling him to chase after the latest strong smell to waft through his olfactory senses.  To say nothing about  the other voice in his head which had anything other than patience on the mind.

 

Hellhound didn't actually care too much about the Scarpia's business dealings.  But, as far as he knew the Mara had some level of protection or loyalty to the Scarpias  And his father's own Lunar Sentry MC had fallen under the scope of the Mara when the Jigsaw man took over Hadwick Park.  Which meant inconveniencing the Scarpia family was as good as inconveniencing his own.  Which was good enough for Óscar.  So the wolf  made his way down a trail.  Trying to get a first nose account on just exactly he was trying to interfere with.

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GM

 

The teens in the van were within Mister Strix's line of sight.  They van doors a paler shade of greying than the rest of the once bright green van.  The windows weren't tinted but just dirty enough to allow someone to think they were in the dark.  The grill was filled with mud and all manners of mess.  The teens were parked in a van on the hill overlooking the dock entrance.  The path they were taking was going to be obvious.  A straight shot through the front gate.  Past the security, which had an equal chance of being local hires unconnected to the Gorganzua family.

 

The Gorganzua's men on the other hand were less visible.  Both Hellhound and Strix were close enough to the entrance to see two sets of SUV's with properly tinted windows enter docks.  But, aside from seeing them turn to the left once passing the gate it didn't take long for them to escape either party's line of sight.  And with it the specific pier they were headed to.  Mister Strix was able to catch sight of the automatic rifles the men were carrying.  The darkness of the windows doing nothing to conceal them from his line of sight.  Hellhound on the other hand could smell gunpowder and...dirt.  It wasn't local dirt, but it was definitely the smell of dirt.

 

As soon as the SUV's disappeared from anyone's line of sight the van roared to life.  It's next destination a wayward charge into the gates of Greely Point Docks.

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Mister Strix briefly glanced at the van on the hill during his surveillance, but he didn't pay it much attention. He'd assumed they were just bored young people getting high. There hadn't been much to do in Bedlam back when he was a teen, and in almost two decades, that hadn't changed much. But when the Mafia cars pulled away and the van revved up, he put the pieces together.

 

Oh no. Looks like someone is that stupid after all. Maybe I can keep them from getting themselves killed...

 

He sprang up from his perch, took a few steps back, and ran across the roof. When he reached the edge, he jumped. The unnaturally powerful muscles in his legs propelled him several stories into the air. He grabbed his cape and pulled it open behind him. With the edge cut to resemble feathers, it resembled a pair of great white bird's wings spread silently against the night sky.

 

He landed against the front of the van, and growled like a tiger. His voice echoed with a deep, inhuman resonance as he snarled at the driver, "PULL OVER!"

Edited by FloatyPotato
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  • 1 month later...

GM

 

The van complied with Mister Strix's request perhaps a little too readily as the driver hit the brakes with sudden and immediate force.  Instead of flinging him forward into the windshield the vampire found himself sent flying into the road.  Only to rise up unharmed.  Eliciting a unified scream amongst the teens.  Hurriedly the began reaching for their rifles.

 

"No.  No.  No. No."  One screamed in the back.  As another made a cross with his hand screaming about killing it with fire.   All in all, they continued to prove that their hastily thought up plan of the modified robbery wasn't the work of experienced criminals.  Not that many in Bedlam had experienced growling men jumping on to their moving vehicles.

 

The van's sudden and complete stop was visible from the entrance to the docks. But, it was still far enough away and the reaction muted enough from the distance that security had not visibly made any signs of acknowledging any commotion yet.

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If I have to give these clowns a beating, then I'll have to drive them away from here myself, to keep them out of the hands of the Mafia thugs on the other side of that fence. And if I have to do that, then the Mob gets its cargo. Unacceptable. So I need to scare them away instead.

 

The man in white rose up from the ground, most of his body obscured by his massive cape. The youths were close enough to him now that they felt colder inside the van than they had outside under the night sky. Once he'd regained his footing, the man in white pulled his cape up behind him once more and snarled at them.

 

"Death haunts Bedlam this night, Mortals. Run while you can, and pray I don't follow you!"

 

His mouth opened wider than any human mouth should, as though his cheeks had split open. His mouth seemed to take up the entire lower half of his head, filled with an impossible number of gleaming white teeth. Four of those teeth stretched out into fangs, like a cobra preparing to strike. His tongue stretched to three times its normal length, tapering to a point as it danced between his fangs. He clenched his fists and roared at them. His eyes turned completely black, and anyone who looked into them saw a darkness deeper than they'd ever imagined before, a hungry darkness full of Things that would snuff out their Light forever.

 

I may sound like the villain from a bad movie. But I'm dealing with the type of people who watch bad movies. You have to play to your audience.

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Hellhound heard some sort of commotion but waved it off.  His mind was already pulled towards multiple distractions as the canine part of him wanted to chase after every nearby scent.  Using whatever restraint he could muster he took off after the tinted window SUV's.  An unbending focus on his targets keeping his mind sane.

 

Of course, the sight of an overtly large wolf barreling into the docks caught the attention of the security.  Whom reacted as people tended to do when a large predator came charging for them and ran out of the way.  Making their way towards the guard shack in the hopes of reaching for a weapon.  As soon as had a rifle grasped in his hands he hurriedly turned to aim for the wolf.

 

*CRACKsss*  

 

The unmistakable hissing of a small caliber rifle filled the air.  But, it did not come from the security guards.  Whose head, much like Hellhound who had stopped in place, had snapped towards where the sound originated.  Further up the hill, Mister Strix's efforts to scare the teens was a resounding success.  The driver immediately reversed, and everyone forgot even the most basic concepts of gun safety.  Hitting a bump in the road and their rifle fired shattering a window.

 

The hell was that?  Hellhound thought to himself.  Momentarily forgetting that the only threat the guards had physically seen on the premises was...well himself.  But, you don't bring in bulletproof SUVs and not have some sort of security protocols in place for shots being fired.

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  • 1 year later...

GM

 

If fear could take on a physical personification.  It would take the form of a group of teenage boys eyes locked with what could very well be death itself.  The sounds of their tires screeching, however, was quickly muffled by shouting.  Guards began to file out from the docks.  Dead set on investigating the gunshot from above the hill.   They hadn't seen the commotion caused by Mister Strix and the frightened teens.

 

The inside of the docks had an equal amount of commotion.  Lights flaring up all over from the entrance onward.  Armed men and women running around due to rumors of a wolf scene inside.  It almost sounded like an active military base.  But, at no point did an actual alarm fire off.  The concern was limited to the immediate area. 

 

It became increasingly clear as time passed.  The Gorganzua had gone through a lot of preparation for whatever they had been shipping.  Greely Point was a legitimate business front.  It did not need this many active guards.

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