"You have all been put under a lot of pressure, haven't you? I know how it must feel. After I've been away for a good ten years or so and a lot has changed, I can see." Brimstone spoke to the leaders of several inner city mobs. They were the few that survived Rufio's massacre that Rufio had taken in, as well as some who'd come out of the Santa Maya incident. Many had come from different walks of life with different and even conflicting backgrounds and motives than one another and often wouldn't meet under the shambling roof of the hotel they were in without bloodshed. But despite their differences each and every one of them had one common burden now that put their disputes under the rug: Rufio Martin. He'd taken their money, their property, their members, and their territory with the relent of a Roman emperor. Even though their ranks had been composed of human and Reaver alike they still weren't a match for Rufio, a point which Brimstone had taken note of in observance.But unlike them, this was a Charleston he had danced before. There is always a time when new muscle can overpower older muscle, Brimstone has witnessed that first hand before, but there was never a time when new muscle can outsmart the older, wiser muscle. It was all a chess game and all that was needed for victory were the right moves.
Brimstone had made the first move by taken the steps to deliver the message to Rufio that he'd returned; a message that X had received violently loud and clear. Rufio's move in retaliation was average at best when analyzed by Brimstone, he had X chopping the streets up in search for the him; asking all the Johnny-know-hows and what-his-faces in the same spots where he was. Rufio lacks patience and smarts, Brimstone thought, the best he could do was have X kill 3 nobodies in search for me. He didn't bother to plan any traps, he never put anyone against me, he didn't raise the stakes. He's nothing but an amateur going against a veteran, a child with a muscle car with no idea that there's more to a race than just speed, no knowledge of car handling or where he's headed, he just wants to be ahead of everyone. While he may be ahead now, he'll inevitably fall behind to those who know this track much better than he. There's no place for him here.
Now with several others in tow Brimstone's next move was to present a much clearer message. He gathered round anyone who would take an ear to his words, those who didn't fear the weight of their oppressor coming down on them a bit. He called for a meeting in the meeting hall of a shambled hotel that was out of sight from normal criminal spots. The room itself was a small, dank hard tiled room with only two long tables with five chairs each and overhead lights, a chalk board on the wall. It was reminiscent of the classrooms of yesteryear. It was a place Brimstone had used before back in his era to lay low and have meetings. "I'm sure there was a time where not many of you, us, if any at all would meet under the same roof. But certainly in these recent times, circumstances have lead us here with one common denominator: Rufio. I'm sure you're all tired of that name by now aren't you?" The room filled with various motions of head nodding and forms of agreement and then stopped as Brimstone continued, "I come from a time where meetings of this many different crews wasn't necessary, a time where we all had a slice of the pie and the pie itself hadn't already been bitten and soiled. Where the unity in community meant much more than it does today. Where we all had boundaries and knew one another on the first name basis, and minor disputes were solved with words, not bullets. Now it seems we can only come together when we absolutely need it. And now is that time. To put it in short, as I do tend to ramble, we're gonna hit Rufio, and we're gonna hit him hard."
"How exactly are we going to hit him." Asked Donald Yager, a mobster from the upper east side. His crew consisted of the most Reavers in New Jersey, to him as long as the money was flowing everyone is valuable in a way. He himself was also a Reaver with the ability to manipulate magnetism to which he used to great effect for intimidation as well as protection. It's hard to shoot someone who can stop bullets with the wave of a hand.
"Same way we disassemble a wall: brick by brick or we smash it." Eyes lit up in the room as the suggestion of smashing down Rufio was exciting, but at the same time everyone kept a good level of skepticism to approaching the idea. "The Grotto, a gentleman's club, out in Newark. Formerly owned by Joey Hash until Rufio 'persuaded' him to give up control. The plan itself is rather simple: A clean sweep of the establishment and then torching the establishment. Hash is ok with the plan as he gets the insurance."
After a brief debriefing and settling any final qualms and details Brimstone and crew left the old hotel and went back to their respective bases of operations in preparation for the attack. Everyone who had been there had been now soundly invested themselves in the plans of the wise man of yesteryear. Guns were loaded and several were rallied into line. Calls were made back, forth, and around discussing the details over and over. Positions were marked and assignments were made. The plan came together as a whole and everyone knew their part.
The night had come. A dark, frozen night in Trenton where the howl of the rough winds became the soundtrack of the night. The street lamps cast their rust orange lights down on the eroded black streets as litter flew freely through the air. The Grotto stood out with bold defiance with a bright orange sign and silhouettes of showgirls in the windows, promising the men who needed that extra stress relief a great time. It was a spot where many of Rufio's cronies came to relax which is why it was a prime target for a hit. Brimstone stood tall and broad as he normally did waiting for the rest of his crew, he had on the usual trench coat and bowler and a scarf that was pull to and fro furiously in the winds. Hash had agreed to allow this operation to go down and had the guns ready for the crew inside so as to avoid suspicion, the rest of the plan would follow suit. Brimstone and crew would head inside first then Yager, then Tommy Hammer. Each would have their own men of their choosing and together they would find different seats. When the signal, when Brimstone takes a trip upstairs, was given the rest were to make their ways to the office area in the back of the club and grab the guns. Brimstone would take care of the fire afterward and the operation would be complete.
James Mercer finally arrived with Anaya a few minutes late, Brimstone didn't mind however. He gave them the nod as the exchanged their hellos and other formalities. Mercer had on a thick black parka and blue jeans while Anaya had on a stylish standout yellow dress, low cut in front and long below, with gold dangling earrings to match. They were ready to blend into the night crowd. Hash had waited outside watching for the first crew to show and gave Brimstone the nod to come in when he saw them. Brimstone and crew followed up and stepped inside to distracting strobe lights, blaring music, and women dancing topless in various colors on stage in front of a crowd of hollering men. Anaya immediately felt the discomfort from being a woman in a men's club but her uncle and James felt at home almost instantly. Even when surrounded by many associates of his enemies, the deadly allure of the woman's body was just too much to be tense. They got a table and ordered a couple drinks while they waited.
"My kinda place! Tassels and titties!" James shouted over the music to his partners, "Shame we gotta burn this motha'fucka down!"
"I'm sure another will return in its place, but I must say that there sure is a lot to behold." said Brimstone.
Anaya looked at her company with confusion and disgust. She didn't like the idea of women using their bodies for money in any way and was shocked to see they didn't mind. "You're both disgusting." She lamented.
"No we ain't! We're men!" James laughed with Brimstone.
"Same thing!" Anaya shouted back.
One another end of the club, Robert Floyd, also known as the notorious Reaver X, was seated with his fellow gentlemen getting a table show.
"Man do I need this," He said to one of his friends as he leaned forward and poured another glass of expensive liquor, "Rufio's been tearing into me about this Brimstone shit, but the guy's a needle in a haystack man, I tried everything!"
"Hey man take ya mind off it and on her." The friend replied, grabbing the hand of the gorgeous dancer in front of the group. She had already tossed her bra to the floor, revealing her plump, natural breasts and danced graciously and provocatively, teasing her bright blonde hair and blowing kisses to the men.
Robert rarely had a moment to enjoy his life as Robert rather than X, the supersonic Reaver. He came out with his best black suit and tie and dress shoes, his jet black hair parted at the top and fell down to his strong cheeks and his hazel eyes sat perfectly inside the arch of his hair as if they were staring through a doorway. "Right, I don't get to go out as much as I like these days. Got a loooong ass week ahead of me too." He grabbed the hand of the dancer and pulled her to him as he stood up, "But baby I can show you something else I have that's long and not nearly as depressing I'll tell ya that." His company began to jokingly boo at his attempts to woo the woman, "Hey, fuck off when you become rich then you can do the same haha" he taunted as he lead her to the VIP area for some private action. His group quickly called another woman over with promises of money and they continued their good time.
During the time it took for X to secure himself a private session the rest of Brimstone's crew had arrived. Ten men all together all seated in different areas from one another with eyes inconspicuously on Brimstone to make the move. When all was clear Brimstone met eyes with Hash on the top floor. They gave each other a nod and he slowly rose from his table with his crew in tow and walked up the stairs. Simultaneous to their actions the rest of the team followed the plan and met with one of Hash's men as he lead them to the back to grab their guns.
Back in the VIP room, Robert was enjoying a great blowjob from the stripper. An easy feat to pull off with the right amount of money. He lay himself back in the nestle of a red love seat, suit and pants had been eased open, legs spread apart as the woman worked wonders with her mouth. Tonight was his night, as he let his mind, even if only for the moment, forget about Rufio, forget about Everettia's bitching, forget about his responsibilities and just give in to his desires as a man. Finally, Jesus H. Christ she's like a vacuum, this must be how the angels get it. Oh lord up in heaven please don't let this night (or me) end too quickly. Let me relax a bit more and I promise I'll be in church... next year, promise. Pinky promise, I don't break those. He moaned with extreme satisfaction as the woman melted away his frustrations with suction. If only nights like these did last forever.
...A few pleasurable moments pass... Ecstasy is exchanged... Hearts beat out of chests... Guns are drawn... And bullets fly...
"You have got to be FUCKING KIDDING ME!" Robert shouted as he scurried himself to the floor after a barrage of gunfire exploded from the outside. Bullet holes and chipped paint now riddled the deep burgundy walls of the small room, the stripper woman lay face down in a small puddle of her blood, dark red spots splattered throughout her once bright blonde hair. She had been shot at least ten times, several in the ribs, shoulder, head and neck, she died instantly at the first few bullets pierced her skull at the beginning of the gunfire with a horrifying spray of blood, skull and brain matter. Robert had been hit too in the arm and stomach had been bleeding profusely. Screams from both men and woman rang out as loud as the music and gunfire as Robert heard a massacre happening from nowhere. Tonight was supposed to be his night. He threw himself out the door of the VIP room, barely steadying himself against a wall while holding his stomach wound, to the sight of flickering strobe lights and gun smoke blanketing over the dozens of corpses of both half naked women and horny clothed men and staff alike. Blood spatter broke through the lights with shocking clarity as he searched around for any survivors, barely being one himself. No luck whatsoever, everyone was dead and no sign of the assailants either. His friends had been killed before they knew what hit them, each of the peppered with bullet holes through the wears and blood still exiting their frames, shock and horror frozen in their faces. "Are you *gak* *cough* you've got to be shitting me, my luck is not this bad... my life is not *gak* this bad." He collapsed onto his friends bodies and rolled onto the floor in the worst and probably final pains of his life. Suddenly he smelled smoke. It became thicker and thicker, choking.
"Ooooh." Robert let out one final, defeated sigh as the bar began to collapse and give way to a blazing inferno that consumed everything in sight with an unrelenting fury. He closed his eyes and just let his final moments come. The last smells of the night: burning flesh, hair, wood, and blood.
Brimstone had made the first move by taken the steps to deliver the message to Rufio that he'd returned; a message that X had received violently loud and clear. Rufio's move in retaliation was average at best when analyzed by Brimstone, he had X chopping the streets up in search for the him; asking all the Johnny-know-hows and what-his-faces in the same spots where he was. Rufio lacks patience and smarts, Brimstone thought, the best he could do was have X kill 3 nobodies in search for me. He didn't bother to plan any traps, he never put anyone against me, he didn't raise the stakes. He's nothing but an amateur going against a veteran, a child with a muscle car with no idea that there's more to a race than just speed, no knowledge of car handling or where he's headed, he just wants to be ahead of everyone. While he may be ahead now, he'll inevitably fall behind to those who know this track much better than he. There's no place for him here.
Now with several others in tow Brimstone's next move was to present a much clearer message. He gathered round anyone who would take an ear to his words, those who didn't fear the weight of their oppressor coming down on them a bit. He called for a meeting in the meeting hall of a shambled hotel that was out of sight from normal criminal spots. The room itself was a small, dank hard tiled room with only two long tables with five chairs each and overhead lights, a chalk board on the wall. It was reminiscent of the classrooms of yesteryear. It was a place Brimstone had used before back in his era to lay low and have meetings. "I'm sure there was a time where not many of you, us, if any at all would meet under the same roof. But certainly in these recent times, circumstances have lead us here with one common denominator: Rufio. I'm sure you're all tired of that name by now aren't you?" The room filled with various motions of head nodding and forms of agreement and then stopped as Brimstone continued, "I come from a time where meetings of this many different crews wasn't necessary, a time where we all had a slice of the pie and the pie itself hadn't already been bitten and soiled. Where the unity in community meant much more than it does today. Where we all had boundaries and knew one another on the first name basis, and minor disputes were solved with words, not bullets. Now it seems we can only come together when we absolutely need it. And now is that time. To put it in short, as I do tend to ramble, we're gonna hit Rufio, and we're gonna hit him hard."
"How exactly are we going to hit him." Asked Donald Yager, a mobster from the upper east side. His crew consisted of the most Reavers in New Jersey, to him as long as the money was flowing everyone is valuable in a way. He himself was also a Reaver with the ability to manipulate magnetism to which he used to great effect for intimidation as well as protection. It's hard to shoot someone who can stop bullets with the wave of a hand.
"Same way we disassemble a wall: brick by brick or we smash it." Eyes lit up in the room as the suggestion of smashing down Rufio was exciting, but at the same time everyone kept a good level of skepticism to approaching the idea. "The Grotto, a gentleman's club, out in Newark. Formerly owned by Joey Hash until Rufio 'persuaded' him to give up control. The plan itself is rather simple: A clean sweep of the establishment and then torching the establishment. Hash is ok with the plan as he gets the insurance."
After a brief debriefing and settling any final qualms and details Brimstone and crew left the old hotel and went back to their respective bases of operations in preparation for the attack. Everyone who had been there had been now soundly invested themselves in the plans of the wise man of yesteryear. Guns were loaded and several were rallied into line. Calls were made back, forth, and around discussing the details over and over. Positions were marked and assignments were made. The plan came together as a whole and everyone knew their part.
The night had come. A dark, frozen night in Trenton where the howl of the rough winds became the soundtrack of the night. The street lamps cast their rust orange lights down on the eroded black streets as litter flew freely through the air. The Grotto stood out with bold defiance with a bright orange sign and silhouettes of showgirls in the windows, promising the men who needed that extra stress relief a great time. It was a spot where many of Rufio's cronies came to relax which is why it was a prime target for a hit. Brimstone stood tall and broad as he normally did waiting for the rest of his crew, he had on the usual trench coat and bowler and a scarf that was pull to and fro furiously in the winds. Hash had agreed to allow this operation to go down and had the guns ready for the crew inside so as to avoid suspicion, the rest of the plan would follow suit. Brimstone and crew would head inside first then Yager, then Tommy Hammer. Each would have their own men of their choosing and together they would find different seats. When the signal, when Brimstone takes a trip upstairs, was given the rest were to make their ways to the office area in the back of the club and grab the guns. Brimstone would take care of the fire afterward and the operation would be complete.
James Mercer finally arrived with Anaya a few minutes late, Brimstone didn't mind however. He gave them the nod as the exchanged their hellos and other formalities. Mercer had on a thick black parka and blue jeans while Anaya had on a stylish standout yellow dress, low cut in front and long below, with gold dangling earrings to match. They were ready to blend into the night crowd. Hash had waited outside watching for the first crew to show and gave Brimstone the nod to come in when he saw them. Brimstone and crew followed up and stepped inside to distracting strobe lights, blaring music, and women dancing topless in various colors on stage in front of a crowd of hollering men. Anaya immediately felt the discomfort from being a woman in a men's club but her uncle and James felt at home almost instantly. Even when surrounded by many associates of his enemies, the deadly allure of the woman's body was just too much to be tense. They got a table and ordered a couple drinks while they waited.
"My kinda place! Tassels and titties!" James shouted over the music to his partners, "Shame we gotta burn this motha'fucka down!"
"I'm sure another will return in its place, but I must say that there sure is a lot to behold." said Brimstone.
Anaya looked at her company with confusion and disgust. She didn't like the idea of women using their bodies for money in any way and was shocked to see they didn't mind. "You're both disgusting." She lamented.
"No we ain't! We're men!" James laughed with Brimstone.
"Same thing!" Anaya shouted back.
One another end of the club, Robert Floyd, also known as the notorious Reaver X, was seated with his fellow gentlemen getting a table show.
"Man do I need this," He said to one of his friends as he leaned forward and poured another glass of expensive liquor, "Rufio's been tearing into me about this Brimstone shit, but the guy's a needle in a haystack man, I tried everything!"
"Hey man take ya mind off it and on her." The friend replied, grabbing the hand of the gorgeous dancer in front of the group. She had already tossed her bra to the floor, revealing her plump, natural breasts and danced graciously and provocatively, teasing her bright blonde hair and blowing kisses to the men.
Robert rarely had a moment to enjoy his life as Robert rather than X, the supersonic Reaver. He came out with his best black suit and tie and dress shoes, his jet black hair parted at the top and fell down to his strong cheeks and his hazel eyes sat perfectly inside the arch of his hair as if they were staring through a doorway. "Right, I don't get to go out as much as I like these days. Got a loooong ass week ahead of me too." He grabbed the hand of the dancer and pulled her to him as he stood up, "But baby I can show you something else I have that's long and not nearly as depressing I'll tell ya that." His company began to jokingly boo at his attempts to woo the woman, "Hey, fuck off when you become rich then you can do the same haha" he taunted as he lead her to the VIP area for some private action. His group quickly called another woman over with promises of money and they continued their good time.
During the time it took for X to secure himself a private session the rest of Brimstone's crew had arrived. Ten men all together all seated in different areas from one another with eyes inconspicuously on Brimstone to make the move. When all was clear Brimstone met eyes with Hash on the top floor. They gave each other a nod and he slowly rose from his table with his crew in tow and walked up the stairs. Simultaneous to their actions the rest of the team followed the plan and met with one of Hash's men as he lead them to the back to grab their guns.
Back in the VIP room, Robert was enjoying a great blowjob from the stripper. An easy feat to pull off with the right amount of money. He lay himself back in the nestle of a red love seat, suit and pants had been eased open, legs spread apart as the woman worked wonders with her mouth. Tonight was his night, as he let his mind, even if only for the moment, forget about Rufio, forget about Everettia's bitching, forget about his responsibilities and just give in to his desires as a man. Finally, Jesus H. Christ she's like a vacuum, this must be how the angels get it. Oh lord up in heaven please don't let this night (or me) end too quickly. Let me relax a bit more and I promise I'll be in church... next year, promise. Pinky promise, I don't break those. He moaned with extreme satisfaction as the woman melted away his frustrations with suction. If only nights like these did last forever.
...A few pleasurable moments pass... Ecstasy is exchanged... Hearts beat out of chests... Guns are drawn... And bullets fly...
"You have got to be FUCKING KIDDING ME!" Robert shouted as he scurried himself to the floor after a barrage of gunfire exploded from the outside. Bullet holes and chipped paint now riddled the deep burgundy walls of the small room, the stripper woman lay face down in a small puddle of her blood, dark red spots splattered throughout her once bright blonde hair. She had been shot at least ten times, several in the ribs, shoulder, head and neck, she died instantly at the first few bullets pierced her skull at the beginning of the gunfire with a horrifying spray of blood, skull and brain matter. Robert had been hit too in the arm and stomach had been bleeding profusely. Screams from both men and woman rang out as loud as the music and gunfire as Robert heard a massacre happening from nowhere. Tonight was supposed to be his night. He threw himself out the door of the VIP room, barely steadying himself against a wall while holding his stomach wound, to the sight of flickering strobe lights and gun smoke blanketing over the dozens of corpses of both half naked women and horny clothed men and staff alike. Blood spatter broke through the lights with shocking clarity as he searched around for any survivors, barely being one himself. No luck whatsoever, everyone was dead and no sign of the assailants either. His friends had been killed before they knew what hit them, each of the peppered with bullet holes through the wears and blood still exiting their frames, shock and horror frozen in their faces. "Are you *gak* *cough* you've got to be shitting me, my luck is not this bad... my life is not *gak* this bad." He collapsed onto his friends bodies and rolled onto the floor in the worst and probably final pains of his life. Suddenly he smelled smoke. It became thicker and thicker, choking.
"Ooooh." Robert let out one final, defeated sigh as the bar began to collapse and give way to a blazing inferno that consumed everything in sight with an unrelenting fury. He closed his eyes and just let his final moments come. The last smells of the night: burning flesh, hair, wood, and blood.
--- Rufio ---
The aftermath of his club burning down in a blazing inferno had little more effect on Rufio than his morning coffee being cold. The news channels played the clips of the firefighters putting out the blaze all morning and afternoon as different stations spun around theories as to who and why. Rufio had every answer: Brimstone. But it didn't seem to bother him. He sat down at the table in a smaller private kitchen area of his mansion, a stark white room with all the commodities of a normal household kitchen, a window and a large flat screen television.
"Wasn't X in that club, Rufio?" Everettia asked as she sat down across from him with her morning mug of tea. She wore a black top and and grey sweats and let her large wings stay relaxed on her back and he wore a comfy robe, a black tank top and his boxers. The couple had no plans to go out today so their appearance to each other didn't matter.
"He was." Rufio responded coldly as he sipped his lukewarm coffee.
"You don't think that it's a bad thing that your right hand man might be dead?" She asked with increasing concern.
Rufio scratched his head. "X was beginning to, I don't know, Angel. He wasn't coming through with the numbers as much as he used to."
"Well yea, you been runnin' him ragged. You need to hire more people to enforce for you, especially now since Brimstone is on your ass and oh, that X may be dead!" She wanted to yell so badly but she kept her voice to only slightly elevated. She didn't like X much, it wasn't a secret, but to hear news of him being possibly murdered by their enemies and Rufio treating it like he was a nobody really disturbed her.
"Angel, we own an empire now. And like any good empire there are those who want to take it down. Some soldiers are gonna die and it's not like me grieving can bring X back, right?" He got up from the table and heated his coffee up in the microwave and then checked the refrigerator for any food.
Everettia was shocked at his words, baffled even. Lately Rufio has been showing himself to be less and less human, his skin's been turning pale too, I noticed that. I thought the red eyes were contacts at first but I remembered Rufio doesn't wear contacts... at all. What is going on with him?
"I'm expecting Oracle any minute now, by the way." Rufio said as he closed the refrigerator door, disappointed there wasn't anything breakfast like to eat.
"Him again?" She was already in an off mood, the last thing she needed was to hear mention of that freak, Oracle. He'd been by several times in the last weeks. Privately talking like 'men' with Rufio and leaving her out of the conversation. She had been beyond pissed when she figured out he'd persuaded Rufio to open another Chaos magic well, this time on his back. She had seen it first when they were sleeping, she had thought it was a scar from another lover, something most mob bosses tended to have, and she lashed out at him only to find it was something worse. "What's he coming over for this time? More man talk?" She asked in a bitter tone.
"Yes." Rufio answered flatly as he grabbed a box of cereal and a bowl.
Everettia let out a sigh to grab Rufio's attention. No response. She sighed even louder. Still nothing. Plan b, she got up and gently wrapped herself around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Sweetheart, why can't it just be us today? We got nothing to do today, so why not just enjoy each others company hmm?" She tried to sound as sweet as she could in light of recent events. She couldn't ignore the changes in Rufio's form nor the death of X, but when all else failed she always nestled in the warmth of the heart of the man she loved deeply. It was enough for her.
"Angel, it won't be long, I promise." He responded with no emotion as he escaped her grasp.
The doorbell rang, it was Oracle. Rufio took his long walk to the door to answer it and Everettia sat patiently for his return. He returned moments later with Oracle, clad in his sinister dark, hooded robe, following behind him. Despite her dislike for him she greeted him bitterly as a sign of respect for her partner. Personally, she wanted to greet his throat with broken glass, but wouldn't risk Rufio's wrath over her satisfaction, no mater how much she wanted it. But with Oracle now three feet from her she had the chance to press him for answers on what's happening to Rufio.
"So what you here for this time?" Everettia asked, trying not to sound angry.
Oracle glanced over to her, his piercing red eyes shined through the shadow of his inner hood. "Business. Make yourself busy woman."
"Yes, Angel, would you please? We have some business to discuss." Rufio agreed.
"I'm not moving this time." She said. "I'm your life partner, Rufio, which also means I'm your business partner as well. If there's some shit that needs to be discussed it can be discussed in my presence as well. So go ahead and speak, I'm listening."
"Angel..."
"Don't 'Angel' me, Rufio."
"Get out!" Oracle demanded as he pointed her toward the door. She gave a look to Rufio and waited for him to retaliate to the stranger ordering his woman around. Instead he stood there with his arms behind his back, a disappointed look on his face.
She approached Rufio. "You're not going to say anything? He's ordering me, your woman, around, Rufio." His eyes focused on her rage twisted face but his expression didn't change, neither did Oracle's gesture. She'd had enough. Forget the questions she wasn't going to deal with a two on one, she threw her hands up and huffed loudly and left the room en route to another wing of the house. She didn't even want to breathe the same air as Rufio right then.
"Now we can discuss business." Oracle said before he was swiftly yanked up by his robe to an angry Rufio.
"You listen to me. I'll kill you if you so much as raise your finger to her ever again, do you understand?" Rufio threatened through clenched teeth. What he did was harder than anything to him, telling Everettia she wasn't wanted. He knew that their relationship had just hit a large tear and in retrospect it wasn't worth it.
"I'm here to give you power, Rufio, she was in the way. We're already in the process of giving you the power you deserve! Do you really want to give it up over a woman?" Oracle lead him on.
Rufio hoisted him higher off the floor, still keeping him in a vice grip. "She's not 'a woman' she's my woman and I'll trade my soul for her. We will continue to do business but you will respect that boundary. I am your boss so that means she is your boss and you don't raise your hand to your boss."
Oracle wanted to laugh, Rufio spoke as if his soul was still his own. He struggled a bit to release himself from Rufio's insane strength and agreed to his terms. He had a plan to carry out and at this point Rufio was too much involved for him to mess it up and start over with someone else. The two exchanged heated looks and backed away from one another. "Very well." He spoke. "Now let's talk shall we?"
"The spire." Rufio changed the subject. "You summoned it."
"Yes, it's in place. It took quite a bit of summoning."
"You put it in a busy street area..." The spire itself drew much more attention than Rufio wanted but it wasn't under his control.
"Look, beggars can't be choosers. It's only the first spire, I need to summon the others to open the gates. Your wells are looking healthy."
"I haven't used the magic recently. Busy schedule" Rufio claimed. He rubbed the red etchings in his wrists, they had long since dried up from the bleeding. The magic had been untouched for a few weeks and lost their red glow. Rufio had Oracle etch them into his skin and filled with chaos magic, a magic borne of Lucifer, ruler of Hell. With each well drawn Rufio's power capacity increased, allowing him to cast the hideous magics he did for much longer. And with that power he easily muscled any human or Reaver with such acts of tearing people apart with his bare will. He had truly become a god among men and took the throne of the criminal underworld with unrelenting force. Ever since that day he had met Oracle, it has been nothing short of a rocket trip to the top.
But such power did not come without its price, with each incantation of chaos magic a portion of the users soul is devoted to Lucifer, slowly granting him more and more control over the inevitable victim. And to make full certain his new devotees would not pull away from his grasp each well when empty will cause the owner extreme pain until it is refilled by a source. Rufio was completely ignorant to these concrete facts but lately he's been feeling a terrible feeling. Like slowly he's losing himself to something, his nights have been harder to sleep and he's been changing physically, as acknowledged by his company. He felt something truly wrong within him but somehow knew there was no way to stop it. His only choice was to discontinue the use of the magic to stop this, cold, unnatural feeling... but it's already too late. Oracle knew, he knew Rufio's insatiable lust for power would completely blind him to the saboteur. Week by week, month by month, Oracle had guided Rufio on the use of use of his magic. Destruction, torture, carnage, spell after spell, some large some small. While to Rufio these acts was asserting his dominance over the town, he was blind to their true intent. Oracle had sold most of Rufio's soul to Lucifer and he was ready to be the slave he was planned to be from minute one. The seeds were already sewn in place and Rufio was essentially a puppet waiting to be commanded. But now wasn't the time. The other four spires need to be summoned before Lucifer is ready to come to Earth.
"You needn't worry so much about using the magic. I have no use for it anymore." Oracle said.
Outside of the room, just outside of vision, lie Everettia. She had listened in to every word. The rest of the conversation had become white noise except for that one sentence. 'I have no use for it anymore' as if all the magic, carnage, and chaos was for him! I really shouldn't push my bounds, She thought. I wanna go tell him to fuck himself, but Rufio'd probably tell me the same. God, what do I do? That sneaky little shit's up to something but Rufio won't hear me out, I'm sure of that. Gotta get some help here, somewhere. She picked up a her phone and called her friend Tracey for advice. Tracey was always good with giving advice when she needed to and now was perfect. A bit of an oddball, she always went to some crazy psychic in town to have her fortune told, but it always gave her good luck strangely. The phone rang several times but no answer. Just then she remembered Tracey had been out of town for a while, she was vacationing on the Jersey shore with her boyfriend thanks to her promotion at her job. Lucky bitch, Everettia thought. Wait! That psychic, what was her name?! Everettia racked her brain for the answer, Tracey had always talked about her and always advised Everettia to go to her for a better day when she's down. But the name wasn't reaching her. Fuck this, I'm just gonna go in town and look for psychics, there really ain't that many. She grabbed the keys to one of the many expensive cars in the garage and drove off into the city to look for psychics. Maybe one of them could predict the future or give her some good luck.
The doorbell rang, it was Oracle. Rufio took his long walk to the door to answer it and Everettia sat patiently for his return. He returned moments later with Oracle, clad in his sinister dark, hooded robe, following behind him. Despite her dislike for him she greeted him bitterly as a sign of respect for her partner. Personally, she wanted to greet his throat with broken glass, but wouldn't risk Rufio's wrath over her satisfaction, no mater how much she wanted it. But with Oracle now three feet from her she had the chance to press him for answers on what's happening to Rufio.
"So what you here for this time?" Everettia asked, trying not to sound angry.
Oracle glanced over to her, his piercing red eyes shined through the shadow of his inner hood. "Business. Make yourself busy woman."
"Yes, Angel, would you please? We have some business to discuss." Rufio agreed.
"I'm not moving this time." She said. "I'm your life partner, Rufio, which also means I'm your business partner as well. If there's some shit that needs to be discussed it can be discussed in my presence as well. So go ahead and speak, I'm listening."
"Angel..."
"Don't 'Angel' me, Rufio."
"Get out!" Oracle demanded as he pointed her toward the door. She gave a look to Rufio and waited for him to retaliate to the stranger ordering his woman around. Instead he stood there with his arms behind his back, a disappointed look on his face.
She approached Rufio. "You're not going to say anything? He's ordering me, your woman, around, Rufio." His eyes focused on her rage twisted face but his expression didn't change, neither did Oracle's gesture. She'd had enough. Forget the questions she wasn't going to deal with a two on one, she threw her hands up and huffed loudly and left the room en route to another wing of the house. She didn't even want to breathe the same air as Rufio right then.
"Now we can discuss business." Oracle said before he was swiftly yanked up by his robe to an angry Rufio.
"You listen to me. I'll kill you if you so much as raise your finger to her ever again, do you understand?" Rufio threatened through clenched teeth. What he did was harder than anything to him, telling Everettia she wasn't wanted. He knew that their relationship had just hit a large tear and in retrospect it wasn't worth it.
"I'm here to give you power, Rufio, she was in the way. We're already in the process of giving you the power you deserve! Do you really want to give it up over a woman?" Oracle lead him on.
Rufio hoisted him higher off the floor, still keeping him in a vice grip. "She's not 'a woman' she's my woman and I'll trade my soul for her. We will continue to do business but you will respect that boundary. I am your boss so that means she is your boss and you don't raise your hand to your boss."
Oracle wanted to laugh, Rufio spoke as if his soul was still his own. He struggled a bit to release himself from Rufio's insane strength and agreed to his terms. He had a plan to carry out and at this point Rufio was too much involved for him to mess it up and start over with someone else. The two exchanged heated looks and backed away from one another. "Very well." He spoke. "Now let's talk shall we?"
"The spire." Rufio changed the subject. "You summoned it."
"Yes, it's in place. It took quite a bit of summoning."
"You put it in a busy street area..." The spire itself drew much more attention than Rufio wanted but it wasn't under his control.
"Look, beggars can't be choosers. It's only the first spire, I need to summon the others to open the gates. Your wells are looking healthy."
"I haven't used the magic recently. Busy schedule" Rufio claimed. He rubbed the red etchings in his wrists, they had long since dried up from the bleeding. The magic had been untouched for a few weeks and lost their red glow. Rufio had Oracle etch them into his skin and filled with chaos magic, a magic borne of Lucifer, ruler of Hell. With each well drawn Rufio's power capacity increased, allowing him to cast the hideous magics he did for much longer. And with that power he easily muscled any human or Reaver with such acts of tearing people apart with his bare will. He had truly become a god among men and took the throne of the criminal underworld with unrelenting force. Ever since that day he had met Oracle, it has been nothing short of a rocket trip to the top.
But such power did not come without its price, with each incantation of chaos magic a portion of the users soul is devoted to Lucifer, slowly granting him more and more control over the inevitable victim. And to make full certain his new devotees would not pull away from his grasp each well when empty will cause the owner extreme pain until it is refilled by a source. Rufio was completely ignorant to these concrete facts but lately he's been feeling a terrible feeling. Like slowly he's losing himself to something, his nights have been harder to sleep and he's been changing physically, as acknowledged by his company. He felt something truly wrong within him but somehow knew there was no way to stop it. His only choice was to discontinue the use of the magic to stop this, cold, unnatural feeling... but it's already too late. Oracle knew, he knew Rufio's insatiable lust for power would completely blind him to the saboteur. Week by week, month by month, Oracle had guided Rufio on the use of use of his magic. Destruction, torture, carnage, spell after spell, some large some small. While to Rufio these acts was asserting his dominance over the town, he was blind to their true intent. Oracle had sold most of Rufio's soul to Lucifer and he was ready to be the slave he was planned to be from minute one. The seeds were already sewn in place and Rufio was essentially a puppet waiting to be commanded. But now wasn't the time. The other four spires need to be summoned before Lucifer is ready to come to Earth.
"You needn't worry so much about using the magic. I have no use for it anymore." Oracle said.
Outside of the room, just outside of vision, lie Everettia. She had listened in to every word. The rest of the conversation had become white noise except for that one sentence. 'I have no use for it anymore' as if all the magic, carnage, and chaos was for him! I really shouldn't push my bounds, She thought. I wanna go tell him to fuck himself, but Rufio'd probably tell me the same. God, what do I do? That sneaky little shit's up to something but Rufio won't hear me out, I'm sure of that. Gotta get some help here, somewhere. She picked up a her phone and called her friend Tracey for advice. Tracey was always good with giving advice when she needed to and now was perfect. A bit of an oddball, she always went to some crazy psychic in town to have her fortune told, but it always gave her good luck strangely. The phone rang several times but no answer. Just then she remembered Tracey had been out of town for a while, she was vacationing on the Jersey shore with her boyfriend thanks to her promotion at her job. Lucky bitch, Everettia thought. Wait! That psychic, what was her name?! Everettia racked her brain for the answer, Tracey had always talked about her and always advised Everettia to go to her for a better day when she's down. But the name wasn't reaching her. Fuck this, I'm just gonna go in town and look for psychics, there really ain't that many. She grabbed the keys to one of the many expensive cars in the garage and drove off into the city to look for psychics. Maybe one of them could predict the future or give her some good luck.
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