Desires In The Shadows

Ghost My phone vibrates wildly in my pocket, but I consciously ignore it. Something else demands my attention right now, or rather, someone. Work comes first. I step up to the steel table and take a dull gleaming pair of pliers in my hand. I turn toward my victim. “So, no money,” my voice resonates through the cold basement. “Well, I’m truly sorry to hear that. You know the consequences, don’t you?” I move closer to him. “No! Please! I’ll pay, I swear, just give me a little more time,” he begs. I don’t make the rules. I’m just the collector, the enforcer. “You’ve already had plenty of time.” I take another step. “I… I’ll pay, I promise,” he stammers, but the words ring hollow. Whoever dares borrow from the boss must repay the exact amount within the given deadline. No exceptions. No more bargaining. Those who fail, I go to them, and I make sure they pay. If they don’t, they die. It’s that simple. Pure business, and everyone knows the rules of the game. “Sorry, old man, but your time’s up. Unless you pull out the cash right now…” Not that there’s any chance of that. The poor bastard is tied to the chair. Snot dripping, shaking like jelly. “It’s not on me, but I’ll get it,” he hisses. I hate being lied to. It infuriates me how many people still think I’m that stupid. I always wear gloves at work, and today is no different. I grab his chin and force his mouth open with my thumb and forefinger. He jerks his head, but he’s completely at my mercy. The rat screams and starts crying again, the pathetic bastard. I clamp the pliers onto his incisor and yank it out in one quick motion. Maybe this will teach him. “Don’t lie to me again!” “No! Please, let me go!” His body convulses from primal fear. My phone rings again. Must be something important. Everyone knows: if I don’t pick up, I’m working. I’ll call them back when I’m done. I toss the pliers back onto the metal tray. I need to finish this quickly. I don’t have time to play. I turn back to the man whose pants now bear a large, dark stain. He pissed himself from fear. Pathetic. I grab the knife. Time to finish. That’s when the basement door opens. “Ghost! The boss wants to see you. Now.” So he was the one trying to reach me. “I’ll take care of this,” he nods toward the tortured man. I don’t object. I was only doing it myself to pass the time anyway. It took years to build what I am. I have authority; they fear me, but they also respect me. Not just because I’m the boss’s right hand and outrank them, but because they know exactly what I’m capable of and where their place is. I set the knife down and head toward the door. As I walk down the corridor, I hear muffled screams, but I pay them no mind. I have no heart, no remorse. I’m a monster, and there’s no one in the world who could change me. It’s too late for me. When I die, hell will welcome me with open arms. I climb the stairs and make my way toward the boss’s office. This is his fortress. You don’t get in without an invitation, and you don’t leave without permission. No police or official authority comes here. No one wants trouble with the mafia. At least no one with half a brain. Luckily, most people have one. I reach the door and knock. The answer comes immediately. “Come in!” I step inside and close the door behind me. The boss, Matteo Conti: the king of Sicily. The Italian mafia lord. “Sit.” I do as he says. “I hear you’ve been working. Surprised you didn’t leave the job to someone else.” He laughs, knowing full well that I rarely dirty my hands anymore. “I was bored.” I shrug. “I can fix that.” He hands me a sheet of paper. “The names. Ten people who owe me. Collect from them.” I don’t ask questions. I know my job. “You’ll want to take Scott, obviously. Pick two more men.” Scott has been working with me for months. Good soldier, quick learner. I have no friends, but if I had to name someone, he’s the closest thing. “Fine.” The instructions are clear. No reason to stay longer. I step out of the office and head toward the exit. With the list in hand, I drive home. I gather information on each person. Who are they? How much do they owe? Where do I find them? These things matter. Choosing the other two men can wait. First I need to know whether these names are ordinary people, or if there is someone on the list from the underworld too. Only then will I choose the right men. I get into my car and drive out through the gate. No one stops me. Everyone knows that would be a huge mistake. No one picks a fight with the Ghost. I lurk in the dark, waiting for someone to finally free me from myself too.