!!!ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!!!
Writer's Note:
THIS IS NOT A WEREWOLF STORY!!!!
THIS STORY DOES HOWEVER CONTAIN MANY WEREWOLF-LIKE REFERENCES!!!!
ALSO THIS IS RATED R FOR FOWL LANGUAGE!!!
ONE MORE THING TO YOUR RIGHT IS MICHAEL ROMEO (FICTIONAL CHARACTER)!!
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Ciro looked out across the crowded street to the dully lit bar in front of him, fadded neon lights flooded the thin sidewalks just outside the brewery in a dim ambiance. The small street corner was teaming with older gentlemen who all stood about laughing with each other talking animatedly about this grandaughter or that grandson.
Thick clouds of wispy gray smoke filled the air around them from their fat odorous cigars. The heady scent of the mens decades old aftershave combined with a small storm cloude of cigar smoke assulted Ciro's nose. He inhaled the heavy scent and wished for nothing more then to stop and join these men for some laidback conversation and a decent smoke. This sceane of old signores never changed from his memories as a child.
No matter where he went in his motherland, which town he stopped in, or cafe he dwelled in late at night for a biscut and espresso, in Italy there would always be those pure blooded Italian men loitering on shop corners doing nothing more than smoking and enjoying the company of each other. Ciro was as sure of this as he was of the air he breathed.
Ciro gazed at the large gathering of men a second longer before strolling up to them coming to the decision it would best be wise to start his search there. He was on the hunt tonight, a man hunt being the key missing word there for poor Ciro.
For Ciro this was unfortunatly a reoccurring event in his everyday life routine litterally it was wake up, go hunting, go home, get sleep, repeat until death. And seeing how the man he sought after couldnt contain himself to stay inert for long, this made it no simple task for Ciro to catch him... easily, for his own sanity.
Ciro gave a heaving sigh and reached the crowded gathering of balding vicchio (old men).
It was a warm night with a light breeze that still managed to be warm without being hot. Gently it stroked the sleeping city with soft caresses. Summers' inviting weather had been more then agreeable in Italy the last few days and tonight was no exception.
"Scusi gentiluomo!" Ciro said addressing nobody in particular within the gaggle of signore's that stood smoking and chatting in front of him.
"I'm sure you haven't seen a man with long blonde hair possibly surrounded by an entourage of beautiful women? He most likely had a molto carino donna (very pretty ladies) under both his arms... does this ring a bell?"
The signore's all seemed to nod their heads 'yes' at once in a silent agreement, puffs of pungent smoke wafted into Ciro's face and he felt his eyes sting from the harsh burn of the cruel smoke on his sensitive irises.
"Ci ci, Signore." One gentleman said shifting his weight to lean on a solidly built stonewall behind him. He casually pulled a drag from his stogie in no rush to divulge what he knew to Ciro.
The man was called Alberto Flora, a long time acquaintance of Ciro's whom had recognized the sly old man immediately upon sight. At the age of 82 Alberto looked more to be in his early 60's. Though Ciro had determined long ago his friend Alberto had one of those rare faces that made it difficult to put a proper age to it. Had it not been for his striking head of snow-white hair however to give away just how many Italian winters this old dog had lived through, many people, even close friends, would have still been fooled into thinking him younger.
Thick wiry hair that looked like a mane of bleached straw came down to Alberto's shoulders. His dress was simple, plain, and that of a healthy normal working gentleman.
Alberto was a simple flower shop owner. An honest man with a small, quite, business that he ran with his 42 year old daughter Aida. Alberto had lived in this small neighborhood of Italy all his life. He was basically a living map of the area. Alberto knew every local face in town along with every nook, cranny, and small fissure, located within his town's little 10 hundred ft radius.
Once upon a time in his spryer days he had been the kind of man who would long for adventures like those he'd read about in intricately woven adventure novels, but that time was over, come and gone like one of his many birthdays. And all Alberto had to show for his adventuring ways was a single move in his life... across the road from his childhood home where he had been raised with 10 other siblings. That was at age 39 he had decided to start his own business he had relocated himself, with a new daughter, and pretty wife, to a house located only 2 doors down from his dear mama's.
Alberto was simply put, a family man through-and-through.
Now with all his age and wisdom Alberto was a keen and observant man despite his old age. Nothing escaped his eyes and ears. Even the local town gossips got most of their information from him.
Alberto also had a knack for mischief and an acute memory for faces. In other words, he knew exactly whom his friend Ciro was talking about.
"Ciro, you just missed him, the young wolf was just here and you were right he seems to have taken fresh lady pray to the tavern across town." Alberto drawled with a slow creeping smile. He inhaled a large breath from his rolled cigar and finished it, throwing the still burning orange stub to the ground before soundly crushing it with the heel of his cork sandal. Some of the embers smoldered a bit before dying, they were soon swept away by the wind, disappearing into the night.
"Damn. Did you catch a name Alberto?" Ciro asked. If Alberto hadn't caught a name then Ciro would have to knock on every tavern door in Italy. He really needed to find his brother.
"Sega signore Ciro. I only caught a word of the name, it sounded something like Wolf. Ring a bell?" Alberto shoved of the wall he had been leaning against to take out a large rectangular leather case from his coat vest.
He popped open the leather case with a click and reached for another brown cigar.
"Ci, I know it." Ciro said thinking of the bar and nightclub called Il Predatore Sorriso, "The Predators Grin", that had recently opened.
Ciro remembered hearing this bar had a specialty for shady characters in dark corners and drinks that could knock you dead with a sip. Not the ideal place he would take girls out for a drink.
Ciro pulled out his phone and did a quick Google search on it. The little bar was only a couple of blocks away, down by the water front. Grunting a bit Ciro was only happy he did not have to look into every bar of Italy for his troublesome brother.
"Grazie signore Alberto," Ciro tipped his head in respect for his elder while backing away and turning on his heel to start walking towards the tavern he would find his brother in. "Say hello to Aida for me!" Ciro heard something like a 'yes' in the form of a simple grunt from Alberto and kept walking without looking back, his lean figure silently fading into the dark scenery of the night.
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So what do you guys think so far!? Made some SLIGHT changes, hope you dont mind! Thanks all y'all who are being so kind as to vote. *sending my love!*
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Predator's Desire
Romance"____" He said. Emerald blinked confused, she must have spaced out for a second, what did he say. "What?" She asked. "____" Emerald was sure this time, he had said the word. THE word! The four letter word that made her face flush with heat, her ha...
