Fanon:The Mafia - Story

(Note: this is a WIP, there is a lot to be filled in within sections and a lot more to be added.)

Chapter 1
Flintan sighed as the sun set, disappearing beneath the horizon. He couldn't sleep if he tried, exhausted from a long day. He tossed and turned in his covers as he struggled to get comfortable. It was September of 2023, when the leaves started to get a little colorful.

There was a reason that Flintan couldn't sleep, but he didn't know. He finally quit wiggling around and got out of bed. He turned on the light and grabbed his sketchbook, where he kept his doodles and writing pieces.

Flintan was a 13-year old boy, living in the town of Sly, Sable with his father. His father was rough on the outside, but soft on the inside. His mother had passed away, supposedly murdered, though no evidence was found whatsoever; it was possible that she hadn't even died.

Even her beautiful, pearl chain hadn't been found. Flintan knew absolutely nothing about his mother; he couldn't, after all, and his father refused to talk about his mother. Nothing, nothing. His father had raised Flintan, and gave Flintan his name. He said he had named Flintan a name of fire, and courage.

Flintan was that person. A little arrogant, but living a good life... so far. He lived in Sly, Sable, but Sable meant darkness. Flintan always got a little shiver out of the name, but eventually it only became a name to him.

Flintan suddenly stopped and sat up erect and straight, listening. Had he heard something? It sounded like a whisper, close to him, but nothing was in the range of his sight. Nervously glancing around and behind him, he went back to his drawing.

However, he still felt hairs stand up on his back, and once again, he glanced back, but still saw nothing. Weary and tired now, he went back to bed and tucked in deep, hoping that if there was anything out there, it would deal with itself and leave him alone.

Rise and shine, boy. Flintan rolled over and glanced up to see his father, prodding him in the shoulder.

What time is it? muttered Flintan, sitting up, shoulders slouched.

It's 7:00 in the morning, Flintan's father replied.

''You should probably get up now, and I've gotta go run some errands. I'll be back around 10.''

Flintan sighed. Alright. His father left, and Flintan sank back into bed. Suddenly, something white caught his eye; it was a slip of paper, as a hand pushed it beneath the door silently. Flintan listened as footsteps walked away from his apartment room's door.

He narrowed his eyes, confused. What could it say? Flintan waited impatiently for footsteps to completely fade before rising and, with a small sch noise, put on his slippers and leaned forward.

Flintan was still weary of the paper card as he took a tiptoe step forward. He felt as though something was prickling his neck, like something was not right; maybe it wasn't.

He took a couple more silent, soundless steps before picking the card up and climbing back into bed. After a few times of reading it, Flintan still could not comprehend what the paper meant. It said,

“Meet me at the secret hollow at 9:00 this evening for a necessary meeting.

Come or else,

Jair Thanatos”

Just reading it made Flintan a little scared. Was this even meant for his father? Or was it meant for... him, himself?

''“Come or else. Secret hollow,”'' murmured Flintan in his head. He was too afraid. Was it an illegal crime? This was obviously not voiced to all, as it was appearing as a secret message. His hands trembled. Too overwhelmed, Flintan tucked it in his backpack instead.

Throughout the day, Flintan gave it more thought. His father had arrived back at the room, and Flintan observed him with pure intensity. His father didn't express any unusual emotions, but Flintan still wondered whether he knew about this. Who was Jair Thanatos?

Flintan never knew one, and surely most people didn't either. Had he been in illegal conspiracies before? Flintan's father had talked a lot about his work before, mentioning all the people he worked with, but Flintan didn't recall ever being told about a Jair Thanatos.

It shook him to think that his father might be doing business not allowed. But then he tried to get himself to come to his senses. Why was he jumping to conclusions so quickly? It’s not like everything my father doesn’t tell me is something bad.

But at the end of the day, his mind was still partially on the note.

Counterfeiting? Illegal transactions? What if Flintan had to turn in his own father? He shivered; he would never do that... or would he? He shook his head. No use worrying about it, thought Flintan.

Back to work. Flintan didn't go to school; he taught himself, with help here and there from his father. He was an independent man. An introvert, with a lot to explore in his future. As he flipped the pages of a math textbook, he hesitated and let the book close again.

Flintan slapped himself in the face. Stop hallucinating and imagining, he yelled at no one but himself yet again. He opened it again, flipped to page 407.

He began studying and solving the problems listed on his page. “Excavation for a pool is being done in your backyard…” “...42F * 29F * 8F....” “...4.53F^3…” He was just about to give up when something else caught his eye.

A little something sticking out of the pages; literally, the tiniest of the tiny little something. Microscopic. He leaned closer and squinted, wondering if he was just being silly.

It was hard to tell, but there was for sure something there. Just what exactly, murmured Flintan out loud. As much as Flintan tried, he couldn't get it out. Every time he tried grabbing it, it slid farther into the page. He couldn't cut it, either; he tried.

All Flintan could do was stay quiet as his father came back. Flintan had done his best to clean all scraps up from the cutting, but his father, having eyes like those of an eagle's, noticed one last one.

Holding it up, he asked, What is this?

I'm not sure, maybe it's from the scrap paper bin, lied Flintan. His father looked at him suspiciously, but didn't say anything. Flintan bit his tongue hastily until his father walked out.

Then, he let out a sigh, still pondering what the message would say. Flintan then moved on to page 408, since 406 and 407 were now shredded.

After a tiring session of learning to calculate slope, Flintan flipped back to the page where the message was. Flintan stared. It wasn't there anymore.

Flintan had left the paper sticking out of the page, but now it was missing.