You know me... I am annoying, different, difficult, crazy in the best sense of the meaning and I love to write against all lore and canon accuracy. But my fantasy is MY fantasy and it's a construct with weird behaviors.
My newest yet one of the oldest hyperfixations is roaming my mind constantly and here is the first "breakout" (this fits disgustingly well - haha) of :
(Not Quiet) A Hero's Tale
Once again, two families had gotten into a fight. The small police station in Sewickley was running at full speed. The team was working overtime to sort things out.
Organized crime wasn’t limited to big cities - the problem had taken root here as well.
All in all, the citizens here had it good. There were schools, government offices, jobs, and places to live. And yet, nowhere was safe.
The team at the local police station provided the security necessary to ensure normal daily life. One of them was a middle-aged man, a family man who had lived in Sewickley with his loved ones for ages. They had built this little house piece by piece and expanded it time and again. They wanted their children to have space to live and learn. So far, only five people lived there. They had been waiting for another child for years now.
But they were happy and safe, and that is where our story begins…
It was summer vacation. Most of the kids were at summer camp or staying with relatives. The older kids were trying to earn a little money and were helping out wherever they were needed around town.
The streets were remarkably quiet. The police couldn’t complain. There were fewer petty crimes to report, and fights had dropped to a minimum.
Frank planned to take a day or two off to go fishing. His father was still along for the ride, and for the past two years, so had been the apple of his eye, his Melli. The girl was absolutely thrilled by the trips, even though she didn’t know much about fishing itself. Fish tasted good and was healthy. But why people liked to pull it out of the water with a rod and line was a mystery to her - though she liked mysteries, nature, and her family. And if it was a longer trip, that usually meant camping, and Melli loved camping.
The family had Italian ancestors on both sides. Raised strictly Catholic, they went to church, didn’t swear, and prayed before meals and before going to bed.
Everything was perfectly normal and orderly.
That was about to change…
“Sure, you can take two days off, Frank. You’ve got the most overtime anyway. And there’s nothing going on here right now. Go ahead and enjoy the next few days. And don’t let your Mel take advantage of you again.” Frank’s boss laughed over his desk.
“Can’t help it - my little one’s just a natural. Give her something to do and she’ll make something out of it… hahaha.”
Loud laughter echoed from the chief’s office.
What a great start to the upcoming weekend!
Then suddenly, everything changed in the blink of an eye. The phones started ringing. The fire station sounded its siren. Everything was in an uproar all of a sudden.
The two police officers stormed into the small headquarters.
“A shooting in one of the warehouses, over at the Leetsdale site. A patrol is already on the way. We’ve requested backup. The LaRoccas might be involved, sir,” said the young colleague before Frank and the Chief grabbed their things and drove to the industrial park with another colleague.
The Cosa Nostra was everywhere here in Pennsylvania, but usually only noticeable in the larger cities and districts. What was there here in Sewickley to set fires and bring firearms? Corruption and protection rackets were well-known, almost routine crimes here.
Frank himself knew a man who was constantly involved with the Cosa Nostra; after all, he was the father of one of Melli’s classmates.
The Kennedys were a small family - just three people, small fry, as they say. Every now and then, Mr. Kennedy had to show up at the police station to explain himself over minor infractions. Fines and warnings were all he had to worry about. He paid up, and things were fine for a while. Nothing could be pinned on the Cosa Nostra itself; the small fry paid for the violations.
When they arrived at the scene of the alleged crime, the chief and his colleagues finally saw the full extent of the disaster! Fire crews were doing their best to contain the fire raging from the warehouses to prevent it from spreading to other buildings. This was working surprisingly well.
But where were the shooters? Who had been firing out here? It was very late on a Friday night, already pitch dark. Could it have been just small explosions that had been mistaken for gunshots?
A colleague marches toward the chief.
“Chief, we found two bodies. It looks like someone executed them. Over there, sir.”
The colleagues ran quickly through the smoke that had spread across the area, though thanks to the firefighting efforts, it wasn’t too thick or dangerous.
“It’s the Kennedys, oh no!” Frank shouted.
One of the paramedics nodded at him.
“Why would someone drag these two out here, shoot them, and then set the warehouses on fire?” asked a young colleague, scratching the back of his neck in puzzlement.
“The ways of the Cosa Nostra are unfathomable!” replied the Chief.
“Amen!” the young colleague responded.
“You’d better not get yourself into trouble, son,” Frank said, startled.
“Are these the only people who were found dead?” the chief asked, looking around.
“So far, yes, sir. Aside from a few guards and the hall staff, no one else has been found here. Once the flames are out, we’ll know more and can assess the extent of the situation, sir.”
“What about their little son, oh dear.. no?” Frank blurted out, his eyes as big as wheels.
“Frank, you’re going straight to their house with one of the emergency doctors and two colleagues.”
The chief patted his colleague’s broad shoulder. He knew how important it was to protect children in such situations, and his best man on the team for that was Frank Romano.
They drove without lights or sirens to the Kennedys’ small house. No lights were visible from the outside.
The police officers took their places behind Frank, hands on their holsters. The emergency doctor remained in cover at a safe distance.
Frank ran ahead and, when he reached the door, rang the bell.
When there was no response from inside and no one heard anything, one of his colleagues ran around the house to the back door. The colleague reported over the radio.
“The door is locked, and even after knocking several times, there’s no answer, Frank.”
The house was narrow. A small front yard, two strips of greenery on the left and right; the backyard was used only as a storage area and had no fence or security measures.
Frank had a colleague stay at the front door and ran to one side of the house where he suspected there might be a bedroom with an open window.
(The Romanos were a well-liked family in Sewickley. Frank’s father had served in the military, Frank himself had had a good experience at the academy, and they had their pretty little white house with green accents here… everything was so nice here in Sewickley. Their little daughter Melissa was a ray of sunshine, and every now and then she was invited to birthday parties or hosted little get-togethers herself. But little Kennedy was never there, even though they were in the same class. Boys and girls don’t always get along, but Frank actually knew all of his daughter’s classmates personally; only little Kennedy was never with them or had ever invited his Melli over. What was the boy’s name again? Frank pondered; he knew the boy’s parents all too well—they’d been “invited” to the police station often enough. But what was his name…)
“Leon? Leon Kennedy? Are you there? This is Frank. Melissa’s dad. You know, that little pest from your class. Leon?” Frank’s gruff yet gentle voice drifted in from outside into one of the dark rooms.
He tried to make out something by the light of his flashlight.
(Pose for The Sims 4 by @simmireen )
