Chapter 2

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After his soulmate's death something died inside of Angelo as well, people would always talk about the wonderful happy feeling they would get when meeting or being with their soulmate but they never speak of what happens if they die. It felt as if a piece of him was carved out and the only thing remaining was a hollow feeling that numbed his entire being. More than once he was tempted to drown the cold away with the drugs his father had but even if he was suffering he didn't want his mom to see him like that. 

She and Molly were sympathetic and offered all the comfort they could under Henroin's strict watch. Hell, after the night of his soulmate's death he wasn't even allowed to cry for them unless he wanted to get punished for acting like a 'pansy'. 

Despite shying away from the oh so tempting drugs, Angelo did begin to help with his dad's work. It was mostly picking up payments with his brother but he occasionally got to shoot and kill people which was a good enough replacement for the drugs he supposes. 

The streets of New York were always buzzing with activity, and it wasn't much different today. There was no work for him today so he was enjoying simply being out of the house, his mom basically forced him out and said a bit of exercise would be good for him. Molly would be here with him if she wasn't stuck helping their mom cook, apparently they would have guest later tonight. He should be heading back soon to help them with the food, he knows enough from watching his mom cook to help her with the simpler things and if he doesn't know something that's what cookbooks are for.

On his way back he passed an open store that had some nice jazz playing on their radio, the sound was nice but the ever present commotion from the outside was drowning it out for the most part. He was almost out of earshot from the store and it's music when it ended and a voice was heard through the radio speakers. He felt himself freeze as a cheery and charming voice came somehow reached his ears.

"That would conclude our daily scheduled program, until next time dears and remember to smile. You're never fully dressed without one." Despite the hustle and bustle around Angel and the distortion the radio provided for the voice he knew who that voice belonged too.

He may not know the name or who he really is but deep down it felt right to hear him. It had to be him, his soulmate. Turning back he runs into the store and looks around for the owner, he's getting fucking answers dammit!   

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing bursting in here like that!" The balding man by the counter asked angrily.

"Who's the person that was speaking on the radio? I need to know." Angel gave no apologies to the gross looking man, this was more important than being fucking polite.

"How the 'ell should I know? It's just some bloke from Louisiana. Now get the 'ell out my store!" The man unhelpfully provided before practically throwing Angel out his store.

Louisiana, huh? At least he got something out of that, even though Angel would have preferred to leave with the recordings too. He could always sneak in and steal them... but if his dad finds out he'll have to answer questions he don't want to answer. And his dad WILL find out about it somehow, the man had people watching everywhere. At least he got to hear his soulmate's voice even after his death. For some reason it... it helped. He was a real person and what happened to him was real, but why did he die? Angel pondered this as he continued back home, maybe he should tell Molly. She wouldn't tell dad and wouldn't judge him for having a man as a soulmate. He would have to do research and figure out why he died or at the very least who he was. How hard can it be to find the name of a radio host from Louisiana?


Very hard apparently. He told Molly about his soulmate and practically waxed poetics about how wonderful his voice sounded but chickened out about telling her it was a man. Not that he doesn't trust her, but he didn't want his dad or anyone else overhearing them. Molly is a smart girl; she probably already knows it's a man anyways.

 In the following months Angel tried his damned hardest to find out who his soulmate was or what happened to them and all he found out was that there was indeed a radio host that was murdered but his body was beyond recognizing when the police had found him, another body was found in a house nearby as well as other... human remains. Maybe he was searching for the wrong piece of information? People seemed to suddenly forget who the radio host was but there's one thing he did find out while researching that was interesting. New Orleans had a serial killer around this time who suddenly vanished.

He got into researching more about the killer, but all accounts varied very little, women disappearing for months before pieces of their bodies were found mostly eaten by alligators or other animals. Now if Angel's suspicion were correct then his soulmate was very likely that same serial killer. It wasn't as world changing as he would have expected, after all he comes from a mafia family and has killed people himself even if he was only 15 now. Maybe they would have a match made in heaven, or in their case Hell. Two killers as soulmates, oh what wonderful twist fate dealt them.

If this is correct then Angel shouldn't worry about trying to get into heaven, there's no way his soulmate is there and when Angel get's down there it will be in blazing glory. Or as glorious as someone getting damned for eternity can be. He wouldn't tell him mom or Molly about his discovery but now he wanted to help his dad's business.


Five years later he would be staring at the dead bodies of his mom and sister, eyes closed and serene as they lay in a room that stank of gunpowder and blood. They had been targeted as a way of getting to Henroin, but he didn't care to help, and his mom knew it. They killed themselves before the other men could try and torture them for information they wouldn't have.

Angelo never liked his father but this, what he could have prevented but decided to ignore was too far. Even his brother looked torn up about it as his tommy gun was held limply in his hand, a blank look in his eyes as he stared at his mom and little sister dead by their feet.

"We need to leave them," He said numbly shocking Angel of his stupor.

"What the fuck do you mean leave them?! We can't leave them here; they didn't deserve this!" Angel screamed at his brother, feeling tears begin to well up. His voice cracking under the intense emotions that was consuming him.

"Do you think I want this? I'd rather be the one dead right now instead of Molls or mom, Angel! But we can't take them with us, we need to burn this whole place down.... There can be no evidence to recover." The older of the two was also teary eyed but he stayed strong to do what needed to be done. It doesn't mean it was easier.

"But-" Angel was quickly cut off by his brother who glared at him.

"No buts, Angelo. Go outside and wait for me, I'll handle this."

Hesitantly he left but not before looking towards his mom and twin sister one last time.


By the year 1947 Angel was a mess. He's lost everything he's ever cared about in life and had spiraled headfirst into a world of sex, drugs and murder. He still had to remain low-key about his endeavors but even the threat of violence his dad would hold over him didn't scare him as much as it used to. The phencyclidine has really helped with that. Tonight, however, he feels as if he overdid it with the angel dust. His arms were feeling numb and he couldn't move.

Continuous chills coursed through his body even though he was sweating as if he had just run a marathon, his heartbeat loudly in his ears and it felt as if it would burst through his chest at any second. He tried calling out for his brother or dad to help but his voice was garbled and quiet. Nobody would hear him or find him in time. He gave up on calling for anyone, he was begging to get dizzy and nauseous now and would rather just die already. These effects were painful, so much more than he thought they would be.

Angelo felt tears go down his cheeks and just sat there waiting for it all to end. Closing his eyes, he felt his consciousness fade. At least he won't be alone in hell.


When he opened his eyes again, he was in a city sidewalk staring at a blood red sky. 

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