Town of Sadness (RoyalChaos)

Please, Don't.

"You hold the knife like this, Chilled. Flick your wrist, that way it's fast," his father explained quietly, guiding his son's hand along the throat of their newest guest. The young boy nodded, suddenly snapping his wrist and slicing the victim's throat. His screams were muffled against the gag, which made his father smile. "Perfect, Anthony. You're going to do the family proud."

For some reason, this moment hadn't left Anthony's head in days. His first kill, and the first time his father had called him Chilled. Maybe it was the upcoming anniversary of his dad's death. Six years ago tomorrow, his father was hung in the town square for multiple counts of murder.

At the time, it had been the most devastated he had ever felt in all of his years. At eighteen, he was being forced to take over the mafia his family had run since the town of Salem had been established. His right hand men, they always did good by him, but it was so much harder to deal with them than Anthony had originally anticipated.

In Salem, things had changed drastically after his father died. Before, there had been almost two murders daily, the mafia and an unrelated serial killer picking off innocent townspeople. After, all activity ceased. The serial killed knew that people were on high alert after hanging a Godfather, and if he tried anything he was on the chopping block next.

It took Chilled a year to get on his feet as the new Godfather, moving up in the ranks from his father's mafioso. People were suspicious of him, and he also had to lie low for some time. Now, for the past five years, he's been picking up from where his dad left off.

On this particular night, he sat at the kitchen table in his house, waiting for his mafioso to show up. Chilled threw back the last of his scotch, setting the glass down. Someone knocked, three short raps, and then entered.

"Damn, Smarty, it's about time. You don't have many hours of darkness left," Chilled muttered, glancing as the dark haired boy entered.

"Sorry, sorry. Who tonight, boss?" Smarty replied, looking a bit flustered.

"You know who. That medium, he's been talking too much. The dead are awful chatty lately, too chatty," the Godfather commanded nonchalantly, digging a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

Smarty froze, pursing his lips. "Chilled, are you sure? I mean, the sheriff, he's more dangerous-"

Anthony cut him off. "No, not tonight he isn't. We'll deal with the sheriff later. For now, kill that medium. Go, you're already running short on time."

The mafioso reluctantly nodded and left, letting out a soft sigh as he did.
Chilled relaxed into his chair, lighting himself up a cigarette and shutting his eyes.

He almost drifted into sleep, until he felt the cold weight of a knife pressed against his neck. Anthony's eyes blinked open, but he didn't scream.

A man in a hooded black cloak stood above him, his hand wavering ever so slightly. He felt the blade nick his throat ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry. I don't like doing this. It's just my job, y'know?" the masked man whispered, sighing.

"You can't. You know you can't," Anthony whispered, pursing his lips softly.

"Yes, I can. Don't doubt me," the man's grip tightened on the knife, his knuckles going white.

"I'm the Godfather."

The weapon fell from his neck. The man threw back his hood, revealing his face.

"ZeRoyalViking? You're the serial killer?" Chilled whispered, incredulous.

Ze smacked him with the back of his hand, scowling. "Shut up, Chaos. This stays quiet. We both shut up and pretend this never happened. I'll keep your secret if you keep mine."

"Deal," the Godfather grinned evilly, cracking his knuckles. "While you're here, you at least want a drink?"

"Please, don't," the man whispered, shaking his head.

"Don't what? I'm trying to be hospitable, Ze."

"We aren't friends, and you don't get to call me Ze. I wasted my night here. See you in court tomorrow, Chilled," the serial killer slipped out the back door, shutting it silently as he disappeared into the night.