Name: The Story of Sin
Author: Nikita Kazantsev

<div class="preview-fragment">The Story Of Sin
The Story of a Boy, who tried to run away with his sister, but lost everything and became a mafioso — hitman seeking vengeance.
Chapter I
Tough Beginnings
It all began 50 years ago in the 1980’s, in Western Ireland, in a robust commune beside the sea, seated next to the neighboring valleys, of which there are many in the area.
In a rich, but old and decrepit house, inherited and owned by a family of four.
The father was a very earthly figure. Full of sin. He was an alcoholic chain smoker, a member of the irish mob. Badly mannered and stained even more by his occupation. Ugly, with a fat belly and that unnecessary charisma that doesn’t help but gives him the charm he thinks he has but doesn’t in fact.
The mother — a housewife from a well-off family from the east. The daughter — Saoirse — a pretty young girl. The very average of her age.
The son, Mike, is the hero of our story. He will become a man of action and stubborn bravery. But for now, all he can do is run away, because there is fight going on in the house. The father, being the usual bastard that he is, drank too much and is beating his wife over nothing. Really.
“Let’s go. I’ve had enough of this!” Said Mike to Saoirse.
“But where will we go? It’s dark outside.” Saoirse nervously replied.
“I don’t care we’ll go. I’ve had enough from this family. To the forest we shall run without looking back!” Mike almost poetically stated.
So the pair went- covered by the noise of the argument in the kitchen, they slipped out the front door and made a run for it. Into the dark not so distant future. A mistake?
We don’t know.
It was January. Snowing and cold. Mike and Saoirse had barely any clothes on as they were going. The cold burning sensation of footwear getting wet from running in the snow.
“This is wonderful!” Mike exclaimed.
“We’re going to start a new life, we are free” Mike hastily added, sounding out of breath from running while holding Saoirse’s hand.
They were running into the forest.
Minutes felt like hours. However before they could realize it they found an old abandoned shack — Hoover’s end — it said on a sign next to it. It was deep in the forest.
But out back was a cliff, from which a distant frozen river could be seen.
“Let’s hide here!” Saoirse yelled, out of breath.
“Okay…” Mike cautiously agreed, his eyes suspiciously looking up and down the building.
They went inside. It was a one room space. The spruce wood’s color made it cozy, layering out some of the rot and decay that had set in from the passage of time.
“Damn! It’s cold!” Saoirse added.
“We need to make a fire, to get warm,” Mike voiced his idea.
Upon further investigation, it turned out even though this shack was indeed abandoned, it was used as a hunter’s recluse from time to time. Canned beans and other dry food were in the counters and an old burnt out campfire decorated the corner of the room. They looked around some more and started to collect whatever they could find and use:
“Food!” Saoirse said, while suddenly jerking up from behind the counter.
“Great! That’s good to hear. Im quite hungry.” — Mike replied.
In a sprout of silence and the winter wind felt behind the walls, Saoirse voiced her concerns:
“What if they come looking for us?” said Saoirse.
“Who?” a confused Mike responded.
“Dad…” Saoirse said in a weak and afraid voice.
“I don’t know, don’t want to think about it…” Mike calmly and cold heartedly responded.
They had enough time to relax. After some tinkering, Mike managed to make a campfire from some old newspapers and wood he found laying around the place.
They couldn’t stay in the shack for too long. They lacked the survival skills to do so and were afraid of being found. They had to think of a plan, and quickly. Panic was setting in. Their only option was to go east — towards the city of West Port.
“West Port is a few ways east from here.” Mike perked up.
“What will we do in West Port?” Saoirse questioned.
“We get help. Anything we can do — we must.” Mike desperately exhaled.
They agreed to make their move onto West Port. It was a few miles away. Hope was raised akin to an old world flag, and the lights of destiny lit their path.
It seemed Mike held the flag, and the lights guided him and him alone as we were about to find out.
A small flicker of light fell onto the window seal. It only took Mike a few seconds to figure out that they were found!
It was a moment of silence before a great storm. What happened is their father, the tyrant that he was, gave chase after the duo with his men that worked for him in his life in the “underworld” so to speak. Aggression numbed their compassion. They smelled blood!
For now Mike and Saoirse could only see the far away beams of flashlights between distant tree branches. Danger grows, and it grows fast! Right now metaphysical and physical are only a four letter difference. More or less.
And so Mike and Saoirse headed off. They ran for their lives, as a matter of fact. They forgot themselves in the moment, as the adrenaline rushed through their veins. One could feel a snowflake touch one’s cheek and the pine tree smell of the winter forest was vibrant in the cold and piercing air.
The forest was big. It went on and on without end. After thinking they lost their pursuers, they ran into a small inclosure in the middle of two cliffs. Within there was a rocky space with what seemed like an exit ahead. If you looked up, you could see the night sky which was decorated with stars and nebulas. Destiny played its fiddle that day. Two ants were about to become one in the sandbox of the galaxy.
One of the father’s brutes jumped down from the open space above! “How did he?! Monster!” Mike yelled! They were surrounded and cornered. Though the other thugs coming from behind were still far away, they were surely closing in. The brute grabbed Saoirse without hesitation. Mike felt something he had never felt before — an unbridled rage knighted him straight into action. He then slammed himself into the thug, throwing him off of Saoirse. Mike grasped for a rock laying next to him, jumped on the assailant and started beating him repeatedly, smashing his face. The assailant was killed. Mike felt cold and horrible. The blood on his hands signified the power over life and death. A grave thing not without cost, however.
After regaining his composure, he stood up, grabbed Saoirse and they were about to leave when, all of a sudden, a sound of a very loud bang filled the cave!
“BANG!” And it echoed through the now familiar cliffside.
Without realizing what had happened he felt warmth on Saoirse’s back as he was holding her. Red warm blood was rushing down Saoirse and she fell. Dead. Mike felt nothing in that moment. There was not enough strength to feel anything. He snapped himself back into action and quickly ducked down to avoid sharing the same fate. He turned around in shock and fear of other incoming bullets. To his surprise, he didn’t see anybody, he only heard their voices, now not too far behind. Mike couldn’t carry Saoirse’s body with him, he would be too slow and would get caught anyway. So he laid her down and ran, he ran into destiny! Into his new life in the Underworld.
Chapter II
A Mob Life
It’s been 2 years since that awful night. Mike managed to escape and hide in Westport. He was poor — no work, no money and no food. He scraped in any way he could until he was picked up by two very friendly looking men. The men earned his trust. Mike, you see, wounded by the death of his sister and hungry from the street life became like a rabid dog — cautious and sharp on the bite. But the two men took a liking to Mike. They needed a new finger on the black hand. One they could raise from an early age. Without a backstory, without a past. A finger they could shape however they wanted — a pawn to use and dispose of when needed. A rare thing to come by.
“Hey there! Boy!” One of the men beckoned while smoking a cigarette.
“Yeah, over here, friend.” The second man chipped in.
Mike hesitantly walked over;
“Whaddaya want?!” Mike muttered. Desperately hiding the fear in his eyes.
“Here, have this.” One of them handed Mike some money.
Mike looked at the bill and his eyes lit up.
“For… for what?” Mike stumbled to find the right words to say.
“Think of it as an… investment.” One of the men curiously explained.
“Yeah, and there’s more where that came from.” The second one added, while leaning over to his friend.
“Come with us; To our place” They said.
Mike knew in the back of his mind, that this was something that was not of law and order. A villainous aura ominously hovered over the two men, like in a storybook. But Mike was desperate, having had nothing at that point. He knew that he would have died on the street. He accepted their offer. The three of them then went to a bar called “The Saint Maria,” it was down the street. “The Saint Maria” was a quiet little “hole in the wall” bar. West Port was small as it is already, no attention comes to a bar in a rural town. A perfect setup for a criminal operation.
It wasn’t a big group of people. There were five at the time — a sleeper cell with a minimal budget. Then, finally, the two guys at the door, that led Mike here, introduced themselves:
“My names Patrick; And my names Craig.” Said the two men of the night.
“What’s your name?” They asked our hero.
“I’m Mike.”
“Welcome to the Saint Maria.” Happily yelled Patrick as he walked away from them over to the bar counter, for a nice cold one.
“Patrick runs things around here. He’ll make sure you’re treated alright.” Craig whispered in Mike’s ear. He then continued on after Patrick, to the counter.
Patrick was the head of the operation from what Mike had gathered up until that point. He ran the place. Who he answered to was none of anyone’s business from what Mike knew about the mob life. Craig seemed like Patrick’s second-in-command, his “Right hand” so to speak. He was always right by his side.
They seemed like a simple bunch, but the thought of them conducting criminal acts was still very poisonous to our hero’s mind. The thought of mobsters being the good guys is a legend heard all around. That they’ll stand with you against the government, or any enemy at that, is very heartwarming combined with the romantic lifestyle of a gangster. Mike snapped out of his thoughts as another man walked over to him.
“Here.” He handed Mike a sandwich.
It was Dean, he was quiet. They got along.</div>

The Story of a Boy, who tried to run away with his sister, but lost everything and became a mafioso – hitman seeking vengeance.

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The Story of Sin

A sinful tale

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