The old woman had been visited by the set of men several times. Each time, she had no problems reminding them that she stayed her claim. It was at the third time she was beginning to lose her patience.
"I'm not interested in selling the Wishing Well, Grabel." She stated, exasperated. She sat another freshly cleaned glass on a shelf as one of her visitors, a man called Grabel, continued to try and persuade her. He masked his argument as a simple interest in a partnership, but she knew exactly who he was, and what he was after. It was no secret to the old woman that Grabel dealed with the mafia. The old woman, herself, had dipped into the mafia's business many years ago. That, she reminded herself, was likely a factor to be taken into consideration as to explain why the men were here now.
"I'm just interested in sharing half of the ownership. You can continue to run the bar day to day," He promised, sincerely. "I urge you to reconsider your standpoint-" The woman brought out a rolling pin from under the counter, slamming it onto the bartop. Grabel flinched at the noise, as the woman spouted off in a language he couldn't understand like rapid fire. The one thing he did catch was her disinterest.
The large, quiet man who accompanied Grabel clapped a hand on his shoulder to calm his nerves. "You've made your point, mama." He promised.
Grabel got a hold of his wits. "It's obvious you don't want money," he paused, sucking in a breath. "But there's got to be... Something that you want?" He guessed. He could tell by the woman's pursed expression she was considering it. He let out the breath he was holding in.
"My granddaughter, Y/N." The woman relented, looking her guests in the eye for the first time since they'd walked in. "She's pure. Virtuous. She's my angel. But she's been fooling around with a singer. Daniel, one of mine." She gestured to the front of the bar, where a stage was. It was currently empty. "That's how they met: he's in a band, and they play here on the weekends, sometimes a little more often. He was a good kid. At least, I used to think so." She inhaled, not believing what she was about to admit. "I saw something. Something that didn't quite make sense. It was... Inhumane. I told her, but she thought I was just trying to drive her away from him, so she left me. She left me for him. I think she loves him, and I'm sure it'll be the death of her." The woman suddenly sounded worried. "Get my little girl to come home, leave that bafoon, and I'll consider your offer." She promised, her lips quivering.
"Oh, we'll have her home for Sunday Mass." Grabel smiled sinisterly. "His name's Daniel, correct? Have any idea where we could find him?"
A/N: first time writing for Hollywood Undead, kinda wondering how I did, kinda don't give a fuck. This is a completely self indulgent fic with I guess kind of like a vampiric! Danny or something??? Idk what exactly to call him, but the point that needed to get across was that Danny isn't normal, so if you got that, kudos I guess. If you got the reference this is from, I love you. I love the Dead Bite video with all of my soul for several reasons, and the idea of the Wishing Well is a fun concept to mess with to me. Votes and comments would be cool I guess if you're into that
