Mafia Murder

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....

He is a murderer.

....

There were no boundary lines - no districts or territories. The streets were unbound and occupied by every blood cult, street gang and merciless mafia.

Of course different groups held different amounts of power, dependant by their economic proficiency. It would always come down to money - obviously there were the rarity's. Some men and women aligned their loyalties because of friendships and family rather than by who put the most cash in their pockets.

Hadrian stared at the lifeless bodies in front of him, they were still and unmoving. Hadrian didn't fear the death smeared across these men's faces - he had seen death before, all of its many forms. Jerebko had turned on his gang, giving information and acting as an insider - keeping Hadrian informed about the gangs dealings. Jerebko was a low level dealer and a coward - a pathetic man who sold dope to kids in order to fund his own crack habit. He was gaunt and skinny - too many years testing out his own product.

Hadrian felt no loss - the men who had died had long over lived their time - they're days had been numbered. Alec was evidence of that, however, the order Hadrian gave was a merciful death - a false suicide - one last high until his inevitable endlessness. This death, however, was a mutilation - the flesh was torn and rearranged into a Slavic symbol - a representation of the gang who sent the message. This type of violence was an enlightenment.

The Vultare gang, mixed mainly in narcotics and weaponry - they were muggles. Despite their lack of magic, Hadrian understood and respected their potential.

"What does it mean?" Joval spoke, shuffling uncontrollably where he stood - undoubtedly in withdrawal.

"It means they know.. it means everything's about to go to shit." Alec revealed, his voice soft yet it slashed the air, presenting his frustrations.

Hadrian nodded but quickly stiffened, his senses wild. The wolf inside of him growled - hackles rising. Someone was here - Alec who had also noticed this turned his head in a sharp glance of recognition back to Hadrian. Hadrian closed his eyes for just a moment, before making eye contact with Alec once again, nodding his head. Within a matter of seconds Hadrian vanished and Alec became something else entirely.

.....

'He wears a crown of bloody thistles.'

.....

Three men entered the alleyway, two of them holding knives - blades out and pointed threateningly. The middle man held a gun - it was aimed and it was black. The aluminium looked heavy - perhaps with the weight of a life. The men's faces were plain and completely irrelevant, the features merged into a blur presenting their insignificance. They were, simple soldiers, nothing special. Their presence there however, was important. They had been sent to wipe out the newcomers - the unnamed who had stirred the perilous pot.

Hadrian had been slowly staking his claim within the City. He had climbed the felonious ranks remaining completely anonymous - the muggle criminal underworld were baffled at the mysterious newcomer. So far, Hadrian had flown well under the radar - but not anymore. The Vultare Gang were now aware of this invasion - Jerebko had probably screamed Hadrian's name to the heavens, they most likely had promised him forgiveness, sparing him from death. It was a silly pathetic notion, Hadrian sneered at Jerebko's foolishness.

A large black dog growled, standing in the place Alec had been just moments ago. It's fur glistening in the afternoon light, the colour of poisonous petroleum ink. It was a Doberman, standing taller than any other the men had seen before, it was nearly 4ft. It bore its teeth - contorting into a snarling defensive stance right in front of Jovial and Aver, who both had their knives out.

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