The Familia. (ZeRoyalChaos TOS fanfiction)

Secrets and plotting.

I wandered into the town, and stood where I normally stood at the back, waiting for Anthony to climb onto the gallows and announce any news.

He wore the mask, as expected, "Last night, the Mafia made an attempt on my life. Nothing else occurred, so if the jailer were to say who was jailed, under his code name, then we might have a lead on the serial killer."

The mafia did not attack him last night. I would have to confront him for lying about the Familia. You don't try and submit, and protect us, only to say that we tried to kill you. Why would I even try to attack an executioner? They're almost impossible to kill.

We went into the booths as usual. Nothing was happening until I saw my code name pop up.

"I jailed ChilledChaos last night." - Minx.

"Liar." - ChilledChaos.

"What role are you then?" - GassyMexican.

Does he have a fucking death wish?

"I'm escort." - ChilledChaos.

My blunt responses weren't helping my case.

"Any proof of that?" - Minx.

"I escorted Markiplier last night." - ChilledChaos.

"I can confirm that I was roleblocked." - Markiplier.

"Okay." - Minx.

I'd built myself a case now, and I'd have to keep it up in the hope that no-one remembered me calling myself out as lookout. It had proved Mark's loyalty, but also put another red flag by Max's name. I had to wonder if he did it on purpose, or if he genuinely just didn't like or trust me.

The discussion ended without someone being voted up. So we left the booths as usual and walked out, to return home and sort out anything important or suspicious.

I sat at my desk in my house, calling my mafioso before me so that I could question him before heading to Jack's house with the papers. The mafioso stood there, seemingly calm and not bothered by me specifically calling for him. 

I sat back in my chair, looking him over. He was young, but older than me. He seemed strong willed, but he obviously made a mistake.

"Did you visit house 23 last night?" I asked him.

He looked at me, no change in his expression, "Yes, as did you."

Does he not trust me?

"Yes, on business matters. If you knew I was visiting them, why did you try to kill them?"

There was no apology in his eyes, only mild rage, "Because I wanted to."

"Did I give you orders to?" I asked, sitting up straight in my chair.

"No, but the thing is, you're a fucking kid. You have no real authority, I should be the God Father. You're only here because you're his son. I wont take orders from you, you're as pathetic as your old man."

The sudden outburst was not expected, and not welcome, "I can be a kid, and still have more power than you ever will. You do not over rule me, you're just an arrogant prick, with no rights to my familia. You do not make an attempt on the life of a person who will submit, and who has protected my life. "

He stepped closer to my desk, trying to be threatening, "I will do whatever I want, and if you don't watch your back I'll find a way to take you out. I can do and say what I want. Your father was a disgrace, and your mother was a whore."

I stood up from my chair, to level with him. He might be older, but I'm taller, "What did you just say about my mother?"

"I said that she was a whore. A filthy, no good, whore. She would have slept with everyone in this town if your father hadn't been intelligent enough to end her."

"My mother was a saint, and my father a proud Don. How dare you betray their honour, and this family. You're the disgrace, and if you open your mouth again I'll end you."

"I'm so scared, Don Anthony. Fucking try me, you're ridiculous."

My heart was racing in my chest, I felt scared and defenseless, and I had to make a move.

I now stood in front of him, looking down at him, "Give me a reason not to kill you."

"Because you're a frightened child."

I grabbed him by the neck, and lifted him up so his feet were dangling above the ground, and shoved him full force into the wall. I pressed my hand into his throat so that I could see the shades of blue and purple creep up his skin. His eyes held no fear, and that was not what I wanted.

"You're a dishonour to us all." I growled at him, inches from his face.

He spluttered and choked when he tried to breathe in. If he opened his mouth he gurgled and only made it worse.

"Beg me." I spat on the ground next to him.

He struggled to catch enough air, and eventually did, "P-p-p-p... P-please."

I pressed harder into his throat, and I could feel him digging his fingers into my own to try and pry me off. I gave it one final squeeze and I felt his wind pipe cave under my hand. His body went limp and I let it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap.

My heart was still pounding in my chest and I could barely breathe myself. I had just killed my first man, and it had to be one of my own. I'd used my bare hands and brute strength to end a life, and I did not like it.

Even though no-one could hear me I said it anyway, "A proud man, never begs."

I grabbed the papers off my desk, put my gun in my holster and walked out of the basement. The janitor sat on my sofa, almost as if he could sense what had happened.

I nodded at him, and he nodded back, swiftly heading down to clean up the remains.

The family is about family, and traitors are not family.