Many have heard of the famous gangster, Al Capone.
The guy who controlled the Chicago Outfit for seven years. The guy who was behind the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre. The guy who spent a record breaking, at the time, eleven years in the Atlanta penitentiary and Alcatraz.
Most would say that he was the greatest gangster to ever live. Those people didn't know the true owner of this title.
How do I know him? Well, it started a little bit like this...
I was younger. Just turned twenty three, had my first drink, bought a new dress. Everything was going pretty smoothly.
Now, in the 30's, everyone in Burgess knew about the mob boss, Manny 'Moon' Frost.
He was tall, a big guy. Word on the street was no one outside of the Mob heard him talk, unless he wanted you dead.
Then of course, you no longer had the privilege of having heard him.
But apparently, when he did talk, he had something important to say.
However, he's not the greatest gangster. No matter what people believed at the time.
It was a Thursday afternoon. I felt like a night out, so I made a trip downtown and strolled into Club 33.
I got glances from all the men, but none dared talk to me. Except one.
A tall and lean guy stood next to me and ordered a drink. "'Scuse me, Miss, are you here by yourself?" I nodded.
He sat down beside me and thanked the bartender before sipping his drink.
"Are you single?"I laughed to myself and turned to him. "Depends on who's asking." He smirked at me as I looked him up and down.
He was wearing a gray suit and matching fedora with nice, black dress shoes. "Just me," he chuckled. "Though every other guy here wishes he had. What's your name?"
"Elsa Arendelle," I smiled. "And yours?"
He removed his hat, revealing a head of messy, white hair. "Jackson. My friends call me Jack, so Jack Frost to you."
I turned to him in surprise. "Frost? As in the mob boss?" He nodded and smirked. "Hope it doesn't scare you off."
I raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Lucky you, I don't scare easy," I told him and hopped off the stool. He followed my actions and smiled at me.
"Then you wouldn't mind sitting with my father and our associates in the back?"
I gulped at the mentioning of his father but nodded and let him lead me into a private section of the club. I immediately recognized the famous Moon Frost at a round-booth table.
"Pops, this is Elsa," Jack introduced. He nodded at me with a small smile, staying silent.
"This one is Flynn Fitzherbert," he chuckled pointing at a muscular guy with dark hair. "And Kristoff," he gestured to a tall blonde. "And our newest guy, Hans."
I looked over at a guy with red hair and sideburns as he smiled politely. "They're our goons."
The boys all groaned and voiced their displeasure while Jack laughed. The boss simply smiled and shook his head at Jack.
I slid into the booth next to Flynn and Jack slid in after me.
"Hey, a drink for the pretty lady," Jack commanded and Kristoff walked to the bar to follow the order. He brought back a glass of wine, which I gratefully sipped.
We laughed and joked for a few hours about everything.
"So, he points to himself, and he says, 'Hey you, man with a gun.' And I told him, 'I'm sorry, did I miss something?'"
We all laughed as Jack told us stories about his gangster trips. "And then-"
We turned to Manny who came down with a loud coughing fit. "Pops, you alright?" Jack stood and quickly rushed over, patting him on the back.
Manny nodded, but when he stopped coughing and pulled away his handkerchief, there was blood.
"Quick!" Jack yelled. "Somebody call a doctor!"
Flynn ran to get help while Kristoff and Hans helped their boss stand. I turned to run after Flynn, but I stopped when I heard a loud, 'thud.'
I looked back to see the man lying on the ground. I watched Jack frantically get down as he searched for a pulse.
After a moment, he stopped and burst into tears. Manny 'Moon' Frost, King of the Mafia, was dead.
Hey! Thanks for reading! Up at the top is a picture of Manny 'Moon' Frost in case you were wondering. Thanks! Bye! :)
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The Al Capone of Burgess
FanfictionIn the 30's, the Mafia was well known. What if there was a gangster even bigger than the famous, Al Capone?