Fun House

Prologue

                                                                                     Antoni Bianchi                                                                                    

The room is as silent as a tomb as I walk through a simple white door. The members of the administration gather around solemnly. Everyone is dressed in identical simple black suits, black button-up shirts, and red wine ties. Their shoes are polished to perfection as they follow me to a single coffee table. Atop the shining wood is a pistol and a knife. Nothing else. The man who approached me earlier that day stands on the other side of it. I assume he must be the captain. He has his head high, arms behind his back. No one speaks when I come to stand before the table. I hear the fire crackling in the fireplace.

My palms are sweating, but I remain where I am, my arms now behind my back as well. The captain beckons at the two weapons before me. I grab the knife immediately. I hold it out to him, the blade cold against my skin. I cast my eyes down as I present the one I've chosen. I feel the captain take it from my hands and I look up. The captain holds out his hand. I give him my right one. He brings the tip diagonally to the center of my palm and swipes. Blood soon emerges and trickles down the crook where my thumb meets the rest of my hand. I remain unmoving. The captain present an image of Saint Michael and places it face down against my palm. After a few seconds the captain rightens the image so Saint Michael's bloody face is looking up at me.

"A symbol of the holy oath you take here today." The captain tells me as he brings out a match book. He reaches into the pack and plucks a match from the package and strikes it. The flame roars to life and i can feel the heat singe the hairs on my wrist. The Captain lowers the match to the image. I feel the flames lick my fingers. I toss it to my left hand before immediately returning it to my right. The captain begins speaking again as i toss the burning image from hand to hand. It's all coming to a close soon, I think to myself. I just need to repeat the oath and then I can soothe the burning in my palms.

"I vow before Saint Michael and the family before me to pledge my undying loyalty, honor, and respect. This oath is bound by blood and shall never be broken." I repeat the words as the burning becomes unbearable. A bucket with an inch of water is presented, and I toss the image into it. The fire extinguishes as soon as it touches the liquid. I watch as Saint Michael drowns beneath a pillow of smoke while the captain explains the rules.

"You are not to lay a hand on a made member. You are forbidden from being alone with another woman, spoken for or not." The captain says as I return with my hands behind my back. My back is straight, and my head is held high. The captain is still intimidating, but he's no longer looking ruefully at me. He almost looks like he cares for me. "You're forbidden from owning any stocks or bonds. Keep the law out of it as much as you can. If you're unable to do so, a member's attorney will represent you depending on the charges." The captain drops his powerful demeanor and looks to me with kinder eyes,

"May God have mercy upon you and your lineage." He says finally before bringing me into an embrace as the roars of the men I had forgotten about fill the room.