BOUND BY DEBT

LOAN COLLECTION

The smell of hospital makes him sick. The sickening smell of antiseptics and mentholated spirit made his eyes water and stomach turn. The smell of fresh blood nauseated him and he felt queasy. The fluorescent bulbs reflected off the sterile white walls of the hospital's hallway, suddenly the hallway got too tight as though everything was closing in on him.

Damien gulped in the air conditioned gas wafting around the hospital to try and calm himself. His Father was pronounced dead officially by the doctor on duty about twenty minutes ago and the world seemed to have twisted on its axis. Damien couldn't even make himself cry, maybe he was in shock. It shouldn't have surprised him that the old man would breathe his last that night since it seemed his deteriorating health seemed to be the topic of gossip on everyone's lips but it did.

Derzhatel obschaka, his father's second in command sent his best friend after him just as he left the house that night, riding out on his bike. Damien had rushed back into the house just as they began hurrying the man to the hospital but clasping his father's cold hands, he knew right away that he was gone forever.

Now he has to get married and take over. Derzhatel says that is his father's last wish-for him to find a wife and take over the mafian throne.

"Boss, how are you feeling?" his best friend, Marco asked warily, after he slung an arm over Damien's shoulder-it is no surprise that Damien's childhood friend and best friend is wary of him, everyone was wary of him because of where he had been for the last few years.

"The old man is gone, just like that." Damien muttered and friend gazed upon him with such sorrow that he had to push back the moisture beginning to form in his eyes. "When did he get the cancer?"

"He battled lung cancer for a long time Damien, even before you went to....uh...prison." Marco replied, a little hesitantly. "The man was a tough old bastard."

A light chuckle left Damien and he nodded in agreement, "Yes. The godfather is a hell of one tough bastard."

A moment of silence passed between them as they both lost in the thoughts of the godfather then Marco cleared his throat.

"Uh...I wanted to suggest..." Marco started to say reluctantly, trying to strong a sentence without sounding offensive, "Maybe you should come with me on the next job so to get a feel of field work." Damien shot him a look that had him stuttering. "Well...no...i...uh... I just thought it would be a good idea...you know... a good start into the family business... uh... before you take over... proving yourself and shit... Ah f**k this! Forget I said anything."

Damien, despite himself, threw his head back in laughter and then clasped his friend's shoulders, shaking him roughly, "Come on man. We were best friends, you don't have to be so awkward just because I was just released from prison, only if you don't want to associate with an ex-convict." He added with a frown.

Marco snorted, "remember my own father too went to prison for eight years. So f**k me not wanting to relate with you just because you served a term. I just wasn't sure you were the same person anymore." he said, scratching the back of his neck.

"I am sure father would want me to start working immediately so after his body had been cremated and his burial ceremony put behind us. I would go with you for the Loan collection."

"Good idea Damien..." he turned to leave but paused then pulled Damien into his arms, hugging him tightly, "f**k Brother, I f*****g missed you."

Damien swallowed the sudden stump in his throat and returned the hug as well, "I missed you too brother."

"It is good to have you back... As our new king."

Damien smirked and waved his best friend away who grinned in turn.

"Our first port of call is the small village just outside Venice. Patrick Placid. That son of a mug is neck deep in debt to your father."

Damien nodded and walked away into the doctor's office.

Caitlyn shrugged off her khaki trousers and white flannel shirt after pulling her hair out of the tight ponytail she tied it into before she left for work. Exhausted couldn't describe her current state as her shift ran into midnight, she just coming back from work.

Everyone was asleep so she quietly ran a bath for herself in her room and relaxed into it.

A loud bang on the front door made her jerk awake an hour later as she laid in bed, trying to fall asleep-sometimes exhaustion makes sleep an impossible feat-as she kept dozing off then waking up later.

Throwing on a robe, she sped walked to the front door, pulling the sash of her robe tightly about her. The knock was persistent and before she knew it. The door ripped from it hinges and flew backwards, almost knocking her down in the process but she veered off the direct path at the last minute.

Her father, awoken by the noises ran out to the sitting room, eyes wide with fear as he took hold of Caitlyn's hand, shoving her behind him.

Just like in her dream, a heavy footfall sounding almost like metallic boots thumping against the tiled floor of the room, walked into the walked into the apartment. She peeked over her father's tall and broad shoulder to look at the men who broke their door down. Her anger at the rude and violent behavior of the two men quickly dissolved into fear as a shudder racked through her body, rivaling her father's trembling form. This was the same man she had dreamt of, the same tall, wickedly handsome brute who had burnt with a hot rod. She flushed a very pale white and she felt faint as she clung to her father for dear life. People said dreams always come true but this wasn't the kind of dream she wanted in reality.

She heard him mumble, "They are here..."

But who were they? And why does the quiet looking man with a cigar dangling from his lips look like the brute who had tortured her in her dreams.

"We have given you enough time Patrick. Now it's time for collection." The other man said and her father almost peed on himself.

"P-please I need...I need more... more time..." he stumbled through his sentence and the man smirked. The cigarette smoking guy looked as though he could see through her father's body serving as a protective wall at the moment, like he could stop them from hurting her.

Suddenly, more men walked into our house, wielding long and thick sticks.

"I count to ten Patrick. If do not bring out what you owe us. You know what will happen."

"I beg you... I don't have your money... please let me come over to the house tomorrow. I would speak with the godfather himself." Her father wept through running nose and Caitlyn wrapped her arms more tightly around him.

The man tsked and grabbing Patrick's arm, he slammed his fist into his pudgy belly and Patrick doubled over while Caitlyn screamed in horror. She knew nobody would come to their aid because everyone feared the mafia and from what she is able to gather. They are some kind of criminal gang.

"Please let my father go... Please! He took the loans to pay for my tuition fees... hit me instead please..." Caitlyn begged and her dad yelled at her to shut up but she ignored him and continued to beg.

The man ignored her pleas and he signaled at the stick wielding men to come closer and teach her father a lesson. They pounded his body with their sticks, kicking at him, all three of them and Caitlyn continued to scream and cry... "Please stop! You can't treat people like this just because they are in debt to you!" Stop! Hitting my father! You would kill him. Please....stop!!!!" she wailed, trying to put herself between the men and her father's crumpled body but the man calling the shots flung her off them and they continued plummeting her father.