Animal stepped from the shadows of the subway station and took in a healthy chest full of the evening air. It stank of old fish, trash and exhaust fumes, but it beat the smell of death and mildew that seemed to cling to everything inside The Below, which is where he spent most of the day, checking on the children to make sure they had enough supplies to last them for a few weeks and that there was money in their stash. He made sure they were properly equipped before undertaking a dangerous task. In his line of work, you never knew which day at the office might be your last, and he dreaded the thought of leaving them underprepared in the event that he didn’t return.
When the one they called “Duffy” ventured into The Below with the offer from Tommy Clark, he was tempted to send his response in the way of cutting out Duffy’s tongue and mailing it back to the Clark Estate. That was until Duffy explained the situation in detail. Animal didn’t particularly care for any of the Clarks, with the exception of their late father, but he cared for child molesters even less, and that was whom they paid him to hunt. Tommy had promised Animal ten grand for his services, which was hardly chump change. But for the honor of killing a pedophile, he’d have done it for free.
For reasons only known to a few, Animal fashioned himself a champion of the broken, those too weak to protect themselves. This was especially true when it came to children, and was why he had become the surrogate guardian for the wayward kids who dwelled in The Below. Much like him, they were abandoned by society and left to fend for themselves. For the most part they were good kids; a bit rough around the edges, but not yet corrupted by the evil. In the children of The Below, he saw what he once was, and did what he could do to protect him from what he was becoming.
Animal came from a less than favorable upbringing with a junkie for a mother, a father he didn’t know and a step-dad who showed him what true evil was for the first time. Eddie was his name. He was a musician and a closet junkie who Animal’s mother had foolishly trusted to be their salvation, but all Eddie did was drag them further into hell. When Eddie wasn’t out trying to score drugs, one of his favorite past times was kicking the shit out of everyone in the house who wasn’t strong enough to fight him back. When Animal’s older brother was around, things weren’t so bad because he was able to protect him. Animal still caught the occasional beating, but there was only so far Eddie would go because he knew Justice would kill him. He was a gangster and Eddie was afraid of Justice, but whenever he would go away to jail or be gone in the streets for weeks at a time, Eddie would make up for lost time. Animal suffered through everything from busted lips to broken bones. The physical abuse he could take, but it was the psychological trauma that left him permanently scarred. One of Eddie’s favorite methods of torturing Animal was to lock him in a dog cage for days at a time without food or water. He would even sometimes bring his junkie friends by to witness the spectacle. Sometimes Animal’s mother would try and intervene, but most days she was too high to care or notice that her son was being abused. Many nights, Animal would lay on the floor of the cage, soiled in his own urine and feces, praying for death to come and do something to finally end his suffering. It would be years before death finally came, not as his salvation, but as his guide on the path he now walked.
Animal had finally escaped his abusive home and was now living on the streets. He survived mostly by stealing or at the mercies of others, but it was a hard life, especially for someone as young as him. He tried his hands at drug dealing, which ended up leading to the death of his first true love, a girl named Noki. There was also a period of time when he was taken under the wing of a man called Gladiator, who would teach him the art of murder. Halfway through his education, Gladiator was killed by the police. Not long after, he’d gotten the word that his mother was dying. In addition to giving her a drug habit, Eddie had also given his mother HIV. Everywhere he went, death was present, taking away pieces of his life. It wasn’t until Animal hit rock bottom that it finally gave him something in return. This is how he met Tech.
Animal had been out hunting two knuckleheads who were giving him grief on the streets and found them in the process of attempting to rob and kill the young dealer. He and Tech didn’t know each other at the time, but their mutual enemies made them allies in the coming battle. In the end, four of them had entered the alley, but only two had come out. In return for saving Tech’s life, he took the homeless teen in and given him a warm and safe place to stay. Over time their friendship grew, and Tech would become more of a brother to him than Justice. Though it had been Gladiator who taught Animal how to kill, it was Tech who taught him how to survive.
Next to Justice, Tech was the closest thing to a brother that Animal had. He had pulled him out of the streets and given him a home and a purpose, which is why Animal felt so guilty about the way he had been treating him lately. When he saw him walking into his apartment building earlier that day, Animal wanted to call out to him, but he decided against it. He wanted to embrace his friend and tell him what was going on inside him, but he wasn’t quite ready, nor was he sure he could articulate it in a way that would make Tech understand.
Animal and Tech were kindred spirits, yet they were as different as day and night when it came to processing right and wrong deeds. Tech was content to assassinate anyone if the price was right, but not Animal. Death was a gift he bestowed on only those he felt were deserving. This was a rule he tried to live by, but sometimes there were unfortunate casualties, and such was the case with Hannah. He and Tech had come for her grandson, a degenerate piece of shit who had run afoul of the Clarks and was sentenced to die. They stalked him to his home, where a firefight had broken out. Animal had been gunning for the target, but the old woman had gotten in the way. She survived the injuries, but not without a cost. Her life had been spared, but she would spend the rest of her days living in darkness from the bullet that had taken her sight. Animal had done quite a bit of dirt in his young life, but never felt remorse about any of it until Hannah, and he was having trouble processing it. To Tech, what happened to the old woman was a little more than collateral damage, but to Animal, the accident snatched away what little was left of his innocence. The boy that he once was had died, and now all that remained was the monster he was becoming. This is why men like Tommy Clark called on him to do what others lacked the stomach for.
With this thought in mind, Animal pulled his hood tightly over his head and slipped inside the apartment building to deliver his gift.
*
Nicholas Bucco, also known as Nicky the Gent, made it into Manhattan from Belleville, New Jersey in record time. His day ran far longer than expected. He’d set out that morning to make his normal Friday collections of protection money from the various businesses that kicked up to the Meloni family, of which he and his crew were a part of. For the most part, things went smoothly, with everyone paying up. It wasn’t until the last stop on his route that things took a turn.
There was a guy named Slick who hustled heroin out in Irvington. He was relatively new on the scene, having taken over the spot after his predecessor was busted. Normally Nicholas didn’t have a problem with the black guys in Irvington, but Slick was a different breed. Since he’d taken over, he figured he would change the natural order of things, and tried to buck a system that had been in place for nearly five years. Word around town is that he was telling anyone who would listen that they would no longer be kicking up to the Italians. Nicholas, being the gentleman that he was, went to see Slick and tried to have a civil conversation, but found that he couldn’t be civil with a savage. Slick took one look at Nicholas in his tailored suit and perfectly combed black hair and took him as soft, and proceeded to tell him to “Fuck off.” Nicholas did fuck off, but when he came back, he brought a few friends along. Nicholas detested violence and avoided it when he could, but when he did engage in it, he was very, very good at it. They spent the better part of an hour beating Slick to within an inch of his life. Once Nicholas felt like the dealer learned his lesson, he pushed him into early retirement with the business end of his gun. Nicholas left it for those who remained on the block to choose a successor. Didn’t matter to him who ran the block, so long as they had his weekly envelope.
Handling the mess with Slick had not only been a headache, but it had also thrown him off schedule. He had to drive like a maniac through traffic and had even gotten a ticket outside the Holland Tunnel, but it had all been worth it for him to be on time for his standing Friday appointment in Little Italy.
Nicholas parked the car in a garage near the courthouse and walked the rest of the way. It was a nice night and he could use the exercise. As his wife, Judy, pointed out every time she got a chance, he was putting on a few pounds. She was one to talk, considering she was nowhere near the one-hundred-and-fifty-pound looker he married fifteen years prior. It seemed like the older she got, the more bitter she became, and he was about sick of it. The only reasons that he hadn’t left her was because of the kids, the fact that divorce was frowned upon in the secret society (which he was a member of) and the fact that her dad, Big Joe Ragotta, was also the head of the family. Big Joe was very protective of his daughters, and Nicholas reasoned that staying in an unhappy marriage was better than being found in the back of a trunk with a bullet in his head.
Pulling his thoughts away from murder, Nicholas focused on his surroundings. He was a long way from home and moving through the territory of a rival mafia family, the Cissaros. There had always been bad blood between the Cissaros and the Melonis, but things got worse when Gee-Gee took over. Unlike his predecessor, who was content to work hand in hand with the Melonis, Gee-Gee showed no such respect. The Cissaros were a bigger family, so he was always trying to flex his muscle. He’d been stretching Cissaro operations so far out that they’d started to press against the walls of Meloni turf. Nicholas and some of the Capos figured maybe it was time to put the Cissaros in their places, but Big Joe wouldn’t give them the go-ahead. Big Joe and Gee-Gee were tied up in some big business deals together, and he didn’t want to risk it over a street beef. His passive stance when it came to the Cissaros didn’t sit well with the Capos, but Big Joe was the boss…at least for the moment.
Regardless of Big Joe’s stance on the situation with their cousins on the other side of the Hudson, tensions were still running high. The situation was a powder keg waiting to blow once the right match came along. In an effort to help avoid this, Big Joe had cautioned his men to avoid New York when possible, and be vigilant when not. Nicholas fell into the latter. He refused to stay holed up in New Jersey when something sweeter than the Garden State could offer awaited him. The few who knew about Nicholas’ secret weekly trips couldn’t understand why he would risk his neck every Friday, especially when there was no money involved, but that was because none of them ever had the pleasure of resting between the legs of Carmela Monroe.
Nicholas first met her six months ago at a birthday party in Scores Gentleman’s Club in Midtown. Carmela had been one of the bottle girls working their table. Nicholas took one look at those blue eyes and perky tits and fell head over heels. She made Nicholas chase her for a while before finally giving up the goods, but when she did, it was like he had gone to heaven and was knocking on God’s door. Two weeks later, he made her quit her job at Scores and set her up in an apartment in Little Italy. He didn’t care what she did during the week, but Fridays were his, and every week like clockwork, she took him to a place of pure bliss.
Just thinking about Carmela’s sweet pussy added pep to Nicholas’ steps. She lived in a five-story walk-up building off Bowery that he’d gotten the hook-up on because the landlord owed him money. He crossed into the lobby and bounded up the stairs two at a time to the third floor. He didn’t have to knock because he had a key, but when he went to put it in the lock he realized that the door was open. Fearing the worst, Nicholas drew his gun before slipping inside the apartment. When he crossed the threshold, what he saw surprised him. Candles lined a pathway made of rose pedals leading into the living room. Taped to the wall was a sign that said “Make Me Hot.” A smile crossed Nicholas’ face, as he could only imagine what she had in store for him.
He followed the path, and near the kitchen found another sign that read “Warm.” Crossing into the living room, he found a bowl of strawberries covered in whip cream with another sign that said “Warmer.” He placed his gun down and picked up the bowl, headed to the bedroom. Nicholas had already come out of his suit jacket and kicked off his shoes by the time he made it to the bedroom and finally, the sign that read “Hot.”
Nicholas pushed the door open and poked his head inside. The bedroom was just as dark as the rest of the house, only lit by the few candles on the nightstand. In the dim light he could see Carmela’s silhouette lying across the bed. Even standing across the room, he could smell the sweetness of whatever she had bathed in. His dick swelled so mightily in his pants that he prayed to the saints that he lasted longer than five minutes.
“All this for me, baby?” Nicholas called out. In response, he could hear Carmela moan, and saw her shift on the bed. He planned to ride her like a buck that was being newly broken, after he tasted every inch of her. Nicholas planned to do all this and then some, but first he needed to see her…to lay eyes on the tight young body he’d been longing for over the last two weeks. When he cut on the bedroom light, Nicholas found himself dumbfounded. On the bed was his beloved Carmela, naked as the day she was born, gagged and bound to the bed. It only took Nicholas’ brain a split second to process what was wrong with the picture, but by then it was too late.
“The thing that steals the joy from hunting creatures of habit is that you don’t have to track them, because you always know where they’re going to be,” someone to Nicholas’ left said. He turned to see a hooded man sitting on a chair, pointing a gun at him.
“What the hell did you do to Carmela?” Nicholas’ eyes darted back and forth between his mistress and the intruder. In the light, he could see the fear-stricken look in her eyes and the bruises on her face. She had been worked over before being tied down.
The man removed his hood, revealing a youthful face and a mop of wild curly hair. When he spoke, you could see the gold covering his teeth. “Considering your position, I’d be more concerned about what I’m going to do to you,” Animal said as he stood.
“Listen, kid. I don’t know what this is about or who sent you, but you’re about to make a huge mistake. Do you know who I am?” Nicholas questioned, hoping his status would give the young man second thoughts.
“Sure do,” Animal assured him. “Nicholas Bucco, Capo in the Meloni crime family and general piece of shit.”
“So if you know who I am, then you know what happens if you kill a Made man…”
“Yes, I do. Killing you means that’s one less child who’ll be violated tonight.” Animal’s eyes went to the young girl he had bound to the bed.
“Child? She’s twenty-eight!” Nicholas told him.
“This one might be legal, but what about the rest?” Animal inched forward. “I sometimes wonder how the brains of perverts like you work to where you can find children sexually attractive? Is it a genetic defect, or some learned behavior that you picked up because someone played in your booty as a kid?” Animal pondered it.
What the young man was trying to insinuate finally clicked in Nicholas’ head. He was being set up, and considering where the trap was found, he had a good idea of who was behind it. “I’m no more a pedophile than your black ass is the queen of England. Why don’t you put that gun down so we can try and sort this all out.” He went to take a step, but was clubbed in the head with the gun. The world exploded in stars as Nicholas hit the floor face-first, dropping the bowl he was carrying and shattering it. Before he could right himself, Animal had a fist full of his hair and was pressing his gun against Nicholas’ cheek. “Please,” he rasped, “I got kids.”
Animal sneered. “That’s even more of a reason to end you.”
Nicholas could tell by the look of rage that there would be no reasoning with the young man, so logic went out the window and his survival instincts kicked in. The gun went off at the same time Nicholas threw himself backward, ripping a batch of his hair out. The bullet skinned his chin, sending a wave of fire through his face, but he was free. Before Animal could fire another shot, Nicholas charged at him, wielding a piece of the broken glass bowl. Had Animal not beenwearing the oversized hoodie, the glass would’ve gutted him, instead of just opening a nasty wound across his belly.
Nicholas tackled Animal to the ground, sending the gun flying. Animal tried to shove him off, but the older man was much stronger than him. “You little black bastard!” Nicholas punched Animal in the face. “I’ve never touched a kid in my life!”
He grabbed Animal about the throat and started bouncing his head off the hardwood floor over and over. Spots started dancing before his eyes and he knew he was about to black out. Animal had many plans when he entered the apartment, but dying wasn’t one of them.
Just as the darkness came to swallow him, the grip was released from his throat and Animal gasped for air. He propped himself on his elbow, and saw Nicholas locked in a struggle with a new opponent. A one-eyed man with a shaved head was behind him, choking Nicholas with what looked like a prayer rosary. Nicholas grasped at his throat but could do nothing to free himself. Within seconds the battle was over, and Nicholas fell limply to the floor.
For a time, Animal and the one-eyed man just stared at each other silently from opposite sides of the room. The one-eyed man studied Animal quizzically as if he was trying to decide what to do with him. Animal cast a glance at his abandoned gun on the floor, weighing whether he could reach it before he met a fate similar to that of Nicholas.’ The one-eyed man must have been reading his mind, because he let out an amused chuckle.
“I’ve seen you in action, and though you’re fast, I don’t think you’re quite that fast. But by all means, try it if you like,” the one-eyed man challenged. Animal wisely dropped his hands to his sides. “You’re smarter than you look,” he said as he stepped from the shadows. It was then that Animal noticed for the first time that the one-eyed man was dressed like a priest. “A closed-casket.” “Huh?” Animal was confused by the statement.
“A closed-casket funeral,” the one-eyed priest repeated. “Those were the instructions you were given, correct?” He picked Animal’s discarded gun up from the floor and examined it. Without warning, the man shot Nicholas twice in the face. “Tommy tends to get a little testy when his instructions aren’t carried out to the letter.”
Carmela’s muffled cries reminded both of them that she was in the room. The one-eyed priest raised the gun to finish her, but Animal stopped him.
“No,” Animal blurted out, surprising himself and the priest.
“Friend of yours?” the priest asked curiously.
“Nah, I don’t know her. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She ain’t gotta die,” Animal told him, not totally sure of why he was advocating for the girl.
The priest shook his head. “A witness is a loose end, and if it were up to me I’d kill the bitch, but it’s your call.” He lowered the gun, much to Animal’s relief. “One day that tender heart of yours is going to be your undoing.” He went to the window and rested on booted foot on the ledge.
“Wait, why did you help me?” Animal wanted to know.
“Who knows? Maybe I’m just trying to assuage an old man’s guilt.” Priest tossed the gun in Animal’s direction.
Animal took his eyes off the priest for only a second to catch the gun, but it was all the time he needed to disappear. The only things left to mark his passing were Nicholas’ dead body and several unanswered questions.
*
It took all of Animal’s self-control to keep his steps brisk instead of running like his brain was screaming for him to do when he came out of the building. The sooner he got away from Nicholas’ corpse and the crime scene, the better he would feel. Animal was no stranger to dead bodies, but it was the one-eyed priest that had him rattled. The man moved as swiftly and silently as the wind. Watching him kill was like watching an artist paint a beautiful portrait. Animal was almost envious at of the man’s skills, and only hoped to be that lethal if he lived long enough to reach adulthood.
Something else that troubled him about the whole situation was Nicholas’ response when he was informed of the charges levied against him. He seemed genuinely clueless as to what he was talking about. It’s possible that he was lying in an attempt to save his life, but Animal didn’t feel like he was. That was a question that would have to wait for a later date. All that was left to do was meet Tommy’s guy and pick up his money. Animal was so busy mentally ticking off all the things he would spend his ten grand on that he never noticed the man perched in the window across the street snapping pictures of him.