My mother changed my name from Shamus to Micha as per my grandfather’s wishes. Half Italian, half Irish descent meant I was power. But I was young, filled with hate and angered by blood.
He saw the promise, the fire and the courage.
He wanted me to feed on the hate.
So, he trained me.
Conditioned me.
Taught me how to feed the bloodlust.
How to face the demons and use them to destroy all that come within my line of sight.
My cousin hated that. He thought because he was from the son of my grandfather, and not the son of a dead man whose name I no longer have, that I shouldn’t have a single thing.
Difference between him and I is I am smart. He’s a ball bag who will get himself killed.
I’m on a mission.
I remember everything.
I feel everything.
I don’t forget, as much as I would love to forget a lot of moments, I can’t. My brain doesn’t allow it.
All I can do is numb it all with blood, death and the echoes of their screams.
The creator of the infamous North side gang inside the high-ranking Gallo family was still unfound by me though.
I had found out his name and just how powerful he had become after taking my family from the world.
Brutal and merciless.
They that I meet say this of this man.
Oh, believe me I know this.
He killed all I loved and destroyed my mother. She hasn’t been the same ever since that fateful day.
I spent hours seeking out the man with the scar that would have been left from my brother’s blade and the man wearing the midnight blue suit that took my father from me.
Hours and hours.
My grandfather preaches to me to be patient.
Wait.
Watch.
Listen.
I do this and its lead me to many men who work for him.
Slowly I am taking them all out.
Two out of the six men that came into our home, my mother’s safe place, that day I have found and killed already.
“He is soulless,” my grandfather says to me after I walk in, bloodied with hate in my eyes and a pain inside my heart.He is making you soulless too, my son.
