Wes’s Life

Just taking a quick break from the story to let people know whats going on. Basically, my friend Casey started talking about an awesome video game called Mafia and it got me thinking about writing a story about the mob. I don’t have a name for my main character because I don’t want one. I realize it can be confusing at times, but I don’t think its going to change anytime soon. It will probably end up being very dark as I have never written anything like that, majority of the time when I write, everyone lives happily ever after. I guess I need a vacation from that style of writing.

Also, the story is obivously not in order. Once I get a lot of content, I might organize it better and create a page dedicated to it. For now however, it will just be a bit here and there.

Hope everyone likes the story so far.

As he laid in the cool autumn shade of an old oak, he smiled. He was with his true love, his wife. Yes, he had other women, but he loved only one. Her stomach pressed against his side as they laid there in the grass. He was as alone as he could be, there were men stationed here and there to watch for any would-be assassins. She whispered sweet lines into his ear and he smiled. He turned over and was on top of her. He stared at her eyes, the way they glistened in the shards of light that slipped through the leaves. She smiled and pushed him over and now the tables had turned, she was on top of him. He laughed a bit, he was used to being in control, but he would give that up for her. As she leaned down to give him a kiss, there was a crack, and her lifeless body slumped onto his. Her eyes still wide open gave a look of surprise. He pushed her off of him and began to try to snap her out of it, but he noticed the red grass beneath her head.

His men came over to where he was and immediately began to survey the area. No one had seen where the killer was or if he had run off. The men surrounded him as they ran to his favorite Packard. They quickly loaded everyone in and sped off.

He began to cry, they had killed the only woman he had loved. He had no clue what family had done it, all of the families had good reason to kill him, but why her? They had no reason to kill her, other than to upset him.

He called the men to a meeting. They would begin to clean the ghettos. They would polish the underground. They would kill the remaining families. He did not care who did it, just that if they all died then the killer would be dead. He told the men to grab what they needed from the store room and meet in the garage.

He paced back and forth in front of his Packard. Slowly the men began to fill in the garage. Many came toting Tommys or shotguns. He told Sonny to bring the crate forward and put it on the table. The men sat there with their weapons and stared at him. Sonny opened the crate and he walked towards it. He lifted out something that looked like a very round pear. Some of his men mouthed the word: grenade. He told the men to come forward and take two a piece. Being as powerful as he was, he had some very good contacts inside the military. They would sell him surplus stock every now and again.

They all loaded up into different cars, all headed to the Bianchi’s territory. The city would burn tonight.

He barely remember when he had first started, it had been too long ago. He had been recruited much like everyone else, with the promise of money, power and fame.

Money had its obvious uses; buying off the right people, keeping his women happy and keeping his recruits well equipped. He had not wanted fame; it required more tact and more showiness. He had to keep up the appearance and not let it slip; he certainly didn’t need the other families seeing him any differently. But power, that is why he went into the business. He craved it, it was his lifeblood. Without it, he felt completely naked, like a newborn babe.

His rise to power had been anything but ordinary. He joined the Pelerossi family, much like the rest of his block. They were strongest in the area and ran protection on many of the business they frequented. He rose through the ranks quickly, gaining friends and contacts. He eventually became a Lieutenant within the family. He enjoyed the power, but certainly not the orders. He would argue with the Don that his plans were flawed and that he was ignoring the money that came from the drug trade.

So one day, he stood up in refusal of another plan from the Don. The Don became furious and told his goons to take him out. The goons blinked at him and smiled. They turned to the Don, cocked their pistols and ended the reign of the Pelerossi family. He had taken his last order; he quickly seized many of the Pelerossi Family’s assets. He managed to leave with three Packards, at least ten Thompsons, twenty Colt 1911s, a handful of shotguns and some revolvers. He also managed to take the majority of the family.

He began his family very simply by becoming another distributor of alcohol during the Prohibition. It was common to see families jump up out of the ghettos and sell alcohol, but the drug trade was what pushed his family into power. He set a policy of no drug use amongst the family, you wouldn’t want to be the goon caught while using. He made an example of the first one, the user ended up losing a leg, very painfully mind you.

The family had been called in for a “meeting.” During which the user had his leg removed directly above where the meeting took place. He told his men very carefully that they must learn what his words meant, they meant truth, they meant execution, they meant life. The user’s cries of pain echoed through the building while he lectured the men. After much of the screaming, blood began to drip through the ceiling. He knew he had gotten the message across to the men.

He knew what power was, it was being surrounded by over thirty men all carrying weapons and telling them they would lose limbs if they crossed him. That was power. He loved it, more than anything; more than any of his whores, more than the money, more than the success.

I had been thinking about this all day in my head, I felt I needed to write it down.

As he walked out of Ciatta’s Family Diner, he noticed the people’s eyes tearing through the back of his suit. Rightfully so, after what he just did they were probably counting their blessings that they had not been the man that had wronged him. The bullet casings still rolled around the floor, smoke still coming out in whisps where the lead had been resting a few moments ago. The Colt 1911 had been casually tossed aside. He knew he was innocent to all the right people, though he counted twenty mouths that would have testified otherwise. They were no matter, if they spoke up they wouldn’t last long. They never did. He had never been in jail, nor would he ever be. Too many payroll checks came out of his wallet for him to spend time in that place.

So I started programming today around 10 AM and finished around 11 PM. Thats a lot of bloody programming, but I’m done with a 100% completion. That was a huge sigh of relief.

The swing dance was pretty lame since the game had just ended. It ended up being mostly high school freshman and their mothers. So that was not really as fun as the first time, when there were tons of people.

Paul and I are planning on taking lessons, so that should be just awesome. I think it’s going to be great to be somewhere dancing and all of a sudden a swing song comes on and I just show up everyone on the floor.

Anyways, I hope your weekend was good. Mine was certainly better than last weekend.