Post #2198814 in The Rise of the Titans: Crimson Age, a roleplay on RPG

Hades - Dmitri Ruslan

The basement of Madame’s

Vzzzzrrrr!

AAAAAHHH!

The underground basement of Madame’s was dark. A sole bulb hung in the concrete chamber, illuminating in a cone of white light a porcelain bathtub where a man donned in plastic stood. Standing around the man were men in various suits. Some faced the staircase to the upper floor, while others watched the one exit. Within the tub that was filled halfway with water was a man dressed in a black T-shirt and khakis, floundering in a pool that was quickly turning sanguine. As he choked on blood and water, the plastic man would lower the chainsaw in his black rubber-gloved hands and slice through his limbs. The man’s thigh parted in a spray of blood that splattered his apron. Strips of khaki, flesh, and human gum leapt onto his splash mask and pelted his shoulders, adding more meat to his suit.

The plastic man had already cut slits into the man’s biceps, and he had removed his left forearm when he made an attempt to pathetically reach out and beg for mercy. The bloody man screamed and flailed about like a panicked fish, splashing red water across the floor. His cries were drowned out by a mouth-full of water that would rush down his throat, water which swiftly mixed with white and pink chum as he coughed and spewed his guts.

The chainsaw hummed, purring in the plastic man’s hands as he watched the suffering victim from behind the dark, rectangular lens of his mask. That was enough. The plastic man held the chainsaw to his left, and one of the suited thugs promptly stepped forward to take it from him. He then held the same hand out and one of the thugs deposited in it a cell phone. Grasping the phone in his glistening, rubber fingers, the plastic man lifted his mask with his free hand, revealing the face of a fatigued mafioso.

How long has it been since he last seen his spring flower? She had once filled his being with a warmth foreign to those of The Underworld, and like a fire having dimmed, the spark had fizzled out the night he gazed upon his bed. His bed had been empty, and therefore, it was unfit for him to sleep in. Since Persephone left his company, Dmitri had been working tirelessly. Every now and then he would nod off during transportation between hits and collections; and even when lounging in Madame’s, the mafia boss could be found slumped comfortably in a chair asleep. Without Persephone, his heart was black and his mood so bitter that even his henchmen were affected. The work became harder, the boss became difficult to please, and his victims found no mercy.

Dmitri’s eyelids were dark and his lower lids fat from lack of sleep. His half-lidded eyes stared across the room into the darkness while the dial tones chirped in his ear. The blood that coated his gloves and the phone found the side of his face, hair, and ear. The blood rolled in thin streams down his neck as his lips carelessly remained unturned. The other end picked up.

“Hey Freddy where are you? You was supposed t’ah be back by nowz! What the hell are ya doin’?”

Dmitri’s raven brows pinched a little as a clever glimmer appeared in his honeyed eyes.

“Taking a bath,” he answered.

“What? Who the fuck is this? Your fuckin’ dead whoever ya arez!”

Dmitri said nothing more. He held the mobile phone out to the paddling Fred as his shrill screams passed like ice into the receiver to chill the man on the other side.

“Oh god; Freddy; oh god; fuck; okay seriously, who is this?”

Returning the phone to his ear, pleasure tugged at the corners of Dmitri’s lips. “’I’ am a man not to be fucked with. You, however, sent one of your thugs into my lovely establishment and tried to steal my girls by promising them better pay. I will admit that I was expecting more from the Galeti family; instead, I find them always pawing at my door.”

Drawing the phone inches away from his lips, Dmitri irritably muttered, “I can’t hear myself.”

He held out his right hand as one of his thugs placed a pistol into it.

“Is it cocked?” Dmitri asked on an unenthusiastic tone.

“Yes Boss,” the thug promptly replied.

Freddy’s eyes swelled from his sockets when he saw the mafia boss direct the gun at him. Through sputters, the man’s screams rose in hysterical octave until three, loud pops silenced him. Quiet descended upon the basement in a veil and Dmitri eased his head back, closing his eyes, and sighing in relief. He basked in the serenity for five seconds before he turned from the tub and in his plastic suit crackled in the direction of a bathroom.

“Clean it up,” he ordered over his shoulder.

The tainted water was streaming through the bullet holes in the tub and Freddy’s legs could be seen kicking in their death throes. The phone was returned to Dmitri’s ear and he could hear the man sobbing discreetly on the other end.

“If he means that much to you, you can personally come and get him. Bring me 50,000 dollars and I’ll give you the body in a fancy bag free of charge. If you come sooner, I’ll throw in the chainsaw and gun I killed him with. They have his DNA all over them, so what would I need with them?”

“FUCK YOU!”

Dmitri stopped before the bathroom as two suited thugs stepped behind him, and with latex gloves, began removing his apron and splash mask. The mafia boss tossed his head back as laughter flooded from his throat to resonate deeply throughout the chamber. He bit his remaining chuckles behind amused rows of perfect teeth as he continued, “My, my; don’t you ever learn? You already tried to fuck with me. Why would you do it again? I know; why don’t you round up your whole spaghetti-munching family and meet me on the outskirts of Jersey City, Hackensack River Waterfront, at midnight to end it all? Let’s just get it fucking over with because if your god damn family keeps sending rats my way, I’m gonna come over there and then ‘I’ will fuck your lives up. I won’t even take your fucking Chef Boyardee of a restaurant when you’re gone. I’m gonna burn it down and piss out the mother fucking flames. How about it Galeti? Am I gonna see your goons around here again? I’m running out of patience, and I’m running out of bath tubs. Give me your answer.”

There was a long silence on the other end. Dmitri had been scowling deeply, his temper having briefly taken hold of him; but with the silence, he forced a twitching smile. “Take your time. You’ve already taken five hours of mine.”

As Dmitri was stepping out of the plastic suit, the Galeti boss reluctantly spoke, “You’ll have your money.”

Click.

Wearing a long and proud smile, Dmitri lowered the phone from his ear and held his hands out as the gloves and phone were removed from them. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him as he prepared for his shower. Outside the bathroom, holding a freshly-pressed suit was Bernard, Dmitri’s right hand. His phone sang in his pocket, ringing like a bell before he dunked his hand into it and retrieved it. He brought it up to his ear and calmly said, “Yeah?”

“Hey, Demeter’s at it again. She got another guy for Persephone,” the thug reported.

Bernard’s eyes widened with dread upon hearing the news. The drama the boss faced with his business was nothing compared to what would happen if he caught wind of pretty boys talking to his dame.

“I’m not going to tell him. He’s already in a bad mood. Shit, who am I kidding? He’s been a bad mood since she left. Just get rid of him as soon as you can,” Bernard nervously instructed.

Tell me what?

Cold, icy fear shot down Bernard’s spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He swore he heard the shower water running, and it was still running except that Dmitri was no longer in it. The mafia boss stood in the doorway. The bathroom door was agape and his form was nude and dripping. Hot water drops dripped from the black, bladed ends of his hair to collect like crystals against the chiseled wall of his abdomen and the thin trail of hair that divided it.

A thug walked over and handed the boss a towel and Dmitri ruffled his mane with it. Bernard timidly faced him and ran a hand back through his hair.

Shit! he thought. Now he had to tell him. “It’s Demeter. She’s found another one.” He refrained from saying “for who” knowing full-well that Dmitri was capable of correct assumption. He also didn’t feel comfortable saying Persephone’s name in front of him. The boss’s love for that woman was a sickness.

Dmitri lowered the white towel before his eyes as they stared sharply like amber daggers at Bernard. Bernard tensed as those beady eyes seemed to rip through him like spears. It was never safe to be the bearer of bad news, especially when any day could be your day when you worked with such a high-risk individual. Persephone wasn’t here to quell his temper either and she wouldn’t be here for several months.

“Get rid of him!” Dmitri snapped. He then reached out to snatch the phone from Bernard and without bringing it into his ear, he roared into the receiver, “KILL HIM! NO; BRING HIM TO ME! I want to know what son of a bitch had the iron fucking balls to cross me again today!”

The thug on the other end jumped in startle when he heard the boss’s voice explode from the phone. It should have been expected.

“Y-yes, Sir!” the thug replied.

He slapped his hand on top of the roof of the black Ford and three other thugs stepped out to cross the street to Ambrosia. They passed through the shop on an unrelenting pace and two of them looped their arms with Robert’s. The young man glanced at the strangers in fright.

“Hey! What the hell’s going on?” he cried.

The thugs didn’t say a word to Persephone or to their hostage as they hauled him effortlessly out the back door and into an alley. The black Ford screeched to a halt before them, and a black bag was drawn over Robert’s head before he was shoved into the backseat. The vehicle then left as quickly as it came.

Dmitri had looped the towel about his waist and was leaning against the doorframe. His anger was running hotly through his veins, exciting him to rap impatiently against the wall with the backs of his fingers. The phone was against his ear and he was calling his sweet sister. When she would answer, he wouldn’t even greet her. Instead, he got straight to the point.

“You fucking bitch; if you hadn’t been blessed by The Fates to give birth to the love of my life, and if said love didn’t give two shits about your existence, I would have had your ass rotting in a garden somewhere long ago. You keep finding men for her, and I’ll keep dusting them. She won’t blame me. She’ll blame you. After all, she knows me quite well. She knows that I’ll fuck up any asshole that dare touches, looks, or even speaks her name. You’re killing them not me. Don’t think that you’re safe behind your fucking ward. I may not be able to see her, touch her, talk to her, and hear her sweet, sexy-fucking-voice, but I can see, touch, and talk to YOU bitch! You know what I’m gonna do? Let me tell you what I’m gonna do when she comes back here since I know that you’re always interested in what goes down in The Underground. When it’s my turn to have her, I’m gonna strip her naked—literally rip her fucking clothes off like an excited boy does a Christmas gift, and I’m going to bend her over and…”

Dmitri went onto explain his dirty intentions with a heated smile. “I’m thinking about it right now. In fact, I’m whacking off right now as I envision it. It’s going to be suh-weet!”

Click.

The mafia boss hung up just like that. He wasn’t interested in arguing with his sister. The man was busy and he didn’t like his time wasted. Hearing Demeter’s voice was a waste of time. He handed the phone back to Bernard and snatched up his suit.

“Get me another suit,” he told his right hand. He was going to need another one after dealing with Robert.

Snippet #2198814

located in New York City, a part of The Rise of the Titans: Crimson Age, one of the many universes on RPG.

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