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He wasn’t what I expected. But he was a monster. That much was very true. He was old but tyrannical. When the guard ushered me into a study, I couldn’t quite make out his face because the room was dark. He sat in a wheelchair by a window. Cloaked in shadows I couldn’t see his face until he slowly wheeled himself forward. His right cheek was… flesh. Mangled. Twisted…
“Car bomb. Those fuckers thought they dropped me, but I crawled on burning legs out of the hot metal.”
“What brings you to my lair, Little King?”
“I need your help.”
He glanced at me and shrugged. “From me? I’m a cripple. What could I possibly offer you?”
“Everything. Don’t bullshit me, Constantine. You’re a fucking legend. And I need a legend.”
“That and a prayer.”
“I don’t pray.”
“No. Men like us don’t, do we?”
“It won’t be easy, Little Prince. The remaining families want you dead and gone too. With the Fiorelli’s out of the way and you being the only real Salvatore left…”
“There’s more for them to fight over.”
“And what can we do? Me? Shoot a bazooka from my wheelchair and you with your man boy arms?”
Anger rolled through me like a storm cloud. “I’m hardly a boy.”
“So, I’ve heard. You made your first kill.”
Averting my eyes, I glanced at the crackling fire to his right.
He swore in rapid Italian. “Get out. I can’t help you.”
“I’m not leaving. Do your worst, Constantine. Make me your teenage bitch for all I care. Help me bring back glory. Let me rise as your new king. I’m young, capable, and fully ready to become whatever or whoever you need.”
“Bold words. But greatness requires sacrifice. Get on your knees, look me in the eyes and confess everything. What are you hiding? I am your demon lord. Your dark king. I decide if you live or die. If you get kept or cast out.”
Bowing my head, I kneeled. “I let her live. The Fiorelli girl. I lied. I choked her until she passed out then checked her heartbeat when I pretended to dispose of her body.”
“Pathetic.”
“She was me. I saw myself in her. Defiant. Could give two fucks. She had so much fire. Who was I to take it?”
He said nothing, just wheeled past me to the fire and picked up the poker. The logs crackled and popped as he moved the wood around. I turned my head to stare out at the night beyond the window still kneeling… still waiting.
“FUCK!”
He caught me off guard. The tip of the poker seared my skin. The smell of my own flesh melting filled my nostrils. I felt lightheaded. Weak. But I couldn’t vomit or pass out. He’d think I was a pussy and kill me himself. I reached behind to grab the iron and pressed it harder into my back. My teeth bared like a wild animal. Sweat covered my skin. But I pushed the tip of that poker deep until I felt it hit bone.
“Impressive. But you’ll have to do better. Find the girl. End her. You must become the Grim Reaper. You must become the monster lurking in the shadows, not a monster wearing diapers.”
“You call this child’s play?” I hissed, through clenched teeth.
The metal fell to the floor with a clang. I turned meeting his eyes over my shoulder.
He shrugged. “No. I call this a beautiful beginning. Now strip and get in the hole.”
“I’m not fucking you, old man.”