Mitz and Horen strode along the banks of Lake Erie as they made their rounds about the outer perimeters of the Endigo estate, in the outskirts of Toronto. The property was veiled by enough natural scenery to remain inconspicuous to authorities, and members of the Endigo gang monitored the premises diligently to ensure that their operations stayed undisturbed. Aside from the illegal liquor smuggling, the opalescent waters of the lake and frizzy fir trees provided a pleasant, serene atmosphere.

However, as the two men neared the cabins and buildings of the gang's operations, and to Altan Endigo's lodgings in particular, muffled screams filled the night air, becoming absorbed by the dense forest around them. They slowed their pace to relish the scenic view before reporting to their boss.

"Work, work, work! As nice as we're getting paid, what's the use of all this money if we never get time to enjoy our fortune?" bemoaned Mitz, a lean young man no older than twenty with freckles splattered across his apple cheeks. "With the crazy hours, I can't even find me a nice girl to play around with!"

The older, burly man marching beside him snorted. "Heh, you want a break, kid?"

"Oh, right. You've been around longest of all of us, Horen. Since the brothers started, yeah? Haven't you gotten a vacation in at least once or twice by now?"

The bearded man's gaze wandered to the glistening surface of the lake. "No time for rest when there's purpose to live. Those brothers have spent years getting to where they are, tirelessly toiling away to accomplish what they have. You'll do good to work hard while you're young and able, Mitzy boy."

The blonde man kicked stubbornly at the ground, throwing a tiny tantrum as the screams coming from the estate faded into birdsong.

"But I want girls, Horen! Girls!"

Horen ended the conversation by walking away from the kid, leading them towards Altan Endigo's expansive cabin. With no one to complain to about girls and the lack thereof, Mitz tagged close behind. They were mindful of the sprouting, blackberry bramble-ridden ground as they walked, lifting their knees to avoid stepping on the burgeoning bushes. Finally reaching the door, Horen knocked a coded rhythm onto the metal surface before letting themselves in, received by a blood-drenched man across the room, whose countenance was focused on the present company he had in his hands while two other men stood watch with their hands behind their backs.

With fistfuls of hair and the dismembered heads of a man and woman swinging back and forth about his knees, Altan Endigo scrutinized the puddles of blood they had caused at his feet with furrowed brows and shifted his polished Oxfords from the mess. Horen and Mitz maneuvered around earthenware jars to reach the man, some of which were large enough to fit a whole person inside if one ever wished to.

"I want her lungs and spleen fermenting with the juniper berry, clove and ginger root wine. Their thighs should go to the meat curer for the bar's September batch of salumi," instructed Altan to the two men with hands crossed behind their backs.

He turned to Mitz and Horen and threw the two severed heads to the newcomers. "Honey ginger whiskey for the gent and pineapple pepper bourbon for the broad. Shave all of their hair off before you throw them in to ferment. It'll be a three-day infusion for one of our clients at the Great Lakes island resort." He then pre-occupied himself with looking presentable, wiping off the sanguine liquid from his short, patterned hair and gray face with a rag.

Horen bemusedly offered the woman's head to Mitz. "You did say you wanted girls, right?"

Mitz shushed him, hastily going through with the trade. "I didn't mean dead girls!" he hissed, clinging to the severed head to ease his loneliness nonetheless. "Not to get ahead of myself here, but she's not exactly lively company," he whispered, but managed to catch Altan's attention anyway.

"Is there a problem, Mitz?"

Mitz squirmed under Altan's glare. "N-No sir!"

"Good. We'll be late to the docks tonight; send word to Yoni once you're done with your task, Horen. Let him know that we'll need enough manpower to help with the transport of our 'medicinal liquors.'"

∞        

See you around...

Art by Vishnu Prasad