Mystic Messenger Mafia AU
Word Count: 1,473
The small general store was quiet except for the sound of a young man’s broom sweeping across the floor and the faint echo of a radio playing from a backroom. The only customer was a tall man whom had been lurking a far aisle, his eyes scanning the various cans on the slightly dusty shelf while his left hand gripped his briefcase.
The sweeping ceased at the sound of the bell above the door. The young man stood by the counter and watched as the man walked through the aisles, pausing to smile and handle random cans with a laugh. His finger swiped a shelf and he inspected the dust with a disappointed face. He wore an all black suit. A blood red kerchief was tied around his neck and his hat tipped on his head just enough to look sinister.
“Go get your grandpa, kid,” he commanded and leaned an elbow on the shop counter while waiting, nodding once to the customer across the way.
The boy dropped the broom and scrambled to the backroom to retrieve the old man. His slumped frame, followed closely by his grandson, walked slowly to the other side of the counter.
“You don’t mind, right?” the man in black spoke it as more of a statement than a question. He reached over to a jar of suckers, unwrapping one and popping it in his mouth while flicking the wrapper onto the floor. “I’m very worried. I don’t see any money in your hands, and I gave you very clear instructions,” he explained.
The old man’s face remained calm, but his grandson’s fists were balled at his sides. For a moment all three stood there staring at one another with only the faint but familiar jazz tune from the radio filling the space.
“We are under the protection of Don V, we won’t be giving you any money,” the old man was stern, but he took an anxious breath to calm his nerves.
The man in black pulled the candy from his mouth and let out a comical laugh for a moment, then his face became quite serious.
“You’re making a big mistake, pops,” he pointed the sucker in the old mans face.
“Hey! You can’t threaten my gran-“ the boy started, but the old man placed a hand on the boys shoulder to stop him from talking.
“Whoah, whoah! Hey, it’s okay, kid…pops,” he nodded to them both, “I won’t be coming back. I get the message.”
The man reached over to pinch and smack the boys cheek, then with a smirk he straightened the old mans collar and brushed off his apron before patting him on the chest.
He tilted his hat to the customer before leaving. The man, after nodding back, set the briefcase on the shelf, making sure to click the lock before walking out empty-handed and entering the backseat of a black car that had been waiting for him.
“What a fool,” the blonde woman driving said when she heard him close the door of the car.
“Eh, place was a dump anyway,” the man in black said from the passengers seat with a sigh, “we’d never get any dough from that joint,” he sat back in the seat and lowered the hat over his eyes.
“That’s not the point, Saeran,” she snapped, smacking the hat from his head before hitting the gas.
“Hey, watch it,” he groaned and picked his hat back up, “I hate this city.”
“Well, get over it. We’ll be running it, soon,” she replied.
The man in the back turned to look out of the window as they drove away.
“Should be any moment now,” he spoke, but neither of them in the front payed any mind to what he was saying.
The explosion in the distance paired with the sound of shattering glass and rubble elicited screams from the people on the streets. They watched women, children, and men as they began to run in hopes of seeing what had happened.
“Look at them, flocking like vultures to see the carnage,” Saeran hissed in disgust.
“Let them look. I want them to see what happens when they don’t pay up,” she laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. Can we stop somewhere? I’m fuckin’ starving, here,” he replied.
“Christ,” Saeyoung’s face hardened as he heard the news.
“Frank is waiting at the scene,” one of the soldiers explained before being waved off.
He had been overseeing Jaehee’s team as they unloaded another shipment of bootleg into a warehouse. He leaned back on the car and pinched the bridge of his nose in silent thought and frustration.
“Lucky, Kitty!” he called out, sounding harsher than intended.
“Yes, boss?” Yoosung approached, winded but smiling, with you right beside him.
“Frank’s waiting down by first street. Don’t ask questions, just go meet him. Report back to me right after, got that?” he ruffled Yoosung’s cap.
“Got it!” he took off.
You began to follow but Saeyoung tugged at your arm and pulled you back, causing you to stumble a bit on the pavement.
“Lucky’s lucky, but, keep your eyes open…you’ll understand why when you get there. Be careful,” he warned.
“I’m always careful,” you insisted.
“Attagirl,” he let go, flashing a bit of a smile as you walked away.
Yoosung had waited for you to catch up, and as you walked you wondered who Frank could be. And what was going on. You were both oddly quiet. Normally, you couldn’t get Yoosung to shut up. He still had that smile on his face, but the whole way there he only spoke to point out puddles, so you wouldn’t step in them.
From far away, the damage seemed extensive. It only got worse as you approached, and anyone could see it was the work of a bomb. Aside from a few kids out to take a look at the wreckage, there weren’t many people in sight. Most had probably shut themselves at home in fear, you guessed.
Down a nearby alley you saw the figure of a man in uniform waiting. His face became familiar the closer you got. His large belly, bulbous nose and reddish stubble on his face more apparent with the closing distance. You paused, your heart racing and your palms sweating. Frank…
“Don’t worry! He’s on our payroll. That’s Lieutenant Frank,” Yoosung said when he noticed your hesitancy.
You knew very well who it was. But did he know you? Would he recognize your face? You had always thought this son of a bitch was crooked. Damn, who else from the force would you come in contact with…this was way deeper than you had anticipated. You couldn’t wait to expose him for the scum he was.
“Lucky! My boy, how’s the family?” he asked in a chipper tone.
“Mom’s doing a little better. She actually got out of bed yesterday, started pointing out all the things that needed cleaning,” Yoosung smiled.
“I bet your old man loved that,” he laughed, “glad to hear it. And…you seem familiar? When did we meet? I can’t quite remember your name,” his eyes narrowed in on you.
“I’m going to go ask around, see if anyone saw anything,” you said through a lump in your throat before running off.
You were careful of the glass that littered the street. It looked like they hadn’t been able to clean everything up yet. You kicked a few pieces of brick and wood shards, your heart sinking as you peeked into the empty space to survey the damage. It was littered with burned and exploded cans, a remnant of a broom close to your feet.
“Hey, you,” you grabbed a young boy by the collar as he came running passed you, “did you see what happened here?”
“Well, there was a car and-“
“Louie!” a window flew open a few stories up on an adjacent building and cut him off, “come home, now!” she waved her rag in anger at him as she scolded.
The boy ran home without another word and Yoosung appeared only a moment later, his face was white and his smile non-existent. For a moment you held your breath, waiting for him to say something. Say that he knew all about you, that he was going to tell the Mad Hatter.
“What is it, Yoosung?” you tried to hide the quiver in your tone, “what did he say?”
“He said they don’t know much about what happened. Everyone around here is too scared to talk. And…” he trailed off.
“And what?” you pressed him.
“Well. He doesn’t know who the guy is, but he says he is pretty sure. It’s really hushed over there and he is trying to find out more. He says…someone from the police force has worked their way into the family. He says we have a rat.”