Fearless Leader

1

It was a rainy day in town. The air was thick with fog, and the streets void of life.

With a sigh I walked along the road, my footsteps echoing against the pavement. As the weather worsened, I turned into a lively bar that was on my path.

I took off my hat, shaking the stray water droplets off and placing it, along with my overcoat, on the rack beside the door.

Compared to outside, the room was bright and warm, loud music from a record player across the room that filled the room with a welcoming tune. I walked straight to the bar falling right into place in the third stool from the left. Loosening my tie and fixing my glasses, I locked eyes with the bartender.

"The usual," I said, clearing my dry throat. Moments later, a glass of ice and my favorite liquor was placed before me. "Thank you."

The bartender gave a small smile, "Rough day at work, Dominic?"

I rubbed my temples, "Rough day?" I questioned, "I got laid-off, Bill!"

He frowned, "How's the Wife going to react?"

A chill ran down my spine.

Bill smiled, his mustache tilting in amusement, "If you have trouble finding a job, you could always work here. But I'm afraid it won't pay nearly as much, business has been slowing down."

"No, no..." I muttered looking at the rowdy customers, I'd get crushed.

But without another moments pass, the room seemed to be brought to silence. Three well dressed men entered, not bothering to take off their coats.
"Gerard Meryl!" The smallest of the three called, a twisted smile on his face.

The music cut off. "The mafia..." Bill muttered.

"No?" The man questioned, glancing around. "How 'bout you!" He called pointing to a man. "Are you Gerard Meryl?"

The man took a step back, "N-no!"

"Hmm..." The man pulled out a gun and shot the man without a moment of hesitation.

As the costumer's blood spilled crimson across the floor, the room scrambled. The room of adult men were reduced to children playing hide and seek.

With a sigh, one of the three men shot at the roof. "Enough!" His voice boomed.

The small man cleared his throat, "Are you saying Meryl isn't here?" He looked around for confirmation. "Well I can't just leave empty handed... I gotta bring the boss someone... You!" He said suddenly pointing a finger at me.

I pointed a finger at myself confused.

"You!" He called louder this time.

"Me?"

"Yes, you!"

Before I knew it, the two remaining men had grabbed me. My face twisted to concern as I was lifted off the stool effortlessly.

They presented me to the man.

"He'll do, I guess," he said with faint disappointment, "Let's bring him to Boss."

"Boss!?" I mimicked as the residents of the room looked at me with pity as I was carried off against my will. "You're not even going to stop them?" I called.

Bill sighed, "We'll talk to the undertaker."

The damn town run by the mafia, I bet the police won't do a damned thing once my body's found.

After being forced into a slick black car contemplating the probability that this would happen to me, I was brought to a large estate.

Guns being threatened away my back, I walked to the grand entrance, my hands held high in defeat.

"What's your boss want me?" I questioned adjusting my glasses.

One of the men behind me snickered, "Dunno, we just thought he might like you."

"That's absurd," I muttered to myself.

When we entered the house, it was absolutely beautiful. Hard wood flooring, and tall painted walls. The room was lit up by a large, decorative chandelier. I could only imagine the man who owned all of this- I felt a chill down my spine.

Guided down the hallway, I was pushed into a room and presented to a man, more of a boy really, seated at a desk littered with picture frames that were face down on the table and sloppy hand drawn pictures.

"Hello." He began.

"..."

"Would you like some tea?"

"What?"

"Harold could you get this man some tea, please?"

A large man, presumably Harold, stood up with a grunt. I looked back at the boy in front of me.

He couldn't have been not much older than twenty. He sat relaxed in his chair, too comfortable for someone in the mafia in my opinion. His outfit  was neat and orderly. His hair was a brown mess and he held a soft, gentle smile.

He seemed like someone who you would trust with your kids. What's he doing in the mafia.

"What's your education?" He asked innocently enough.

Why should I tell the mafia?

"I have a business degree." It was something about this boy that made me compelled to answer honestly.

He nodded, "What's you're favorite animal?"

"Excuse me?"

This boy was asking such innocent questions, is he really part of the mafia? Did he know what he's a part of a cruel organization?

"What's your favorite animal. I like rabbits- they're so soft and cute."

I tapped my foot under the table confused, "I like dogs I guess? Is this the mafia?" I inquired.

The boy pouted, "You know, we don't really like to call it 'the mafia' I prefer to call it... An organization."

Is this kid serious.

"Oh and by the way I'm Laurence," he stated suddenly. "I guess you could call me the boss."

Harold returned handing both Laurence and I a dainty tea cup.

This has got to be a joke.

I stood up to leave only to be shoved down by forceful hands. "Leave through that door and there'll be a bullet coming you're way."

Cautiously, I sat back down.

"Would you like any sugar?" He asked.

"Um, no thank you. "

"It's rude not to introduce yourself," Laurence chimed in again.

I shifted uncomfortably, "My name is Dominic Knotts."

"That's a nice name, where'd you get it."

I raised a questioning eyebrow, "My mother?"

"That's nice," he stated, "... That's nice," he said again under his breath.

"You have a family?" Laurence questioned.

"Yes."

"Wouldn't want anything bad to happen to them, eh?"

A chill ran down my spine, "No."

"Would you like to work for us."

"Do I have a choice?"

"No. Welcome, we'll make sure you and you're family are taken care of from now on."