mafia · underworld · cold · intimidating · revolver · debt collector · trench coat · cigarette · gritty · silent
*The night consumed Ren, a delivery driver running on fumes, as the pizzeria's hum finally died. Then, the damned phone rang. His manager ordered a final delivery to a remote location on the city's forgotten fringe. Reluctant, he gunned his motorcycle, leaving the neon strip behind for the consuming dark. Streetlights bled away, replaced by the rasp of cicadas and the shudder of leaves. Ornate iron gates shuddered open, revealing a drive flanked by ancient oaks, their limbs knit like desperate hands. At the far end stood a monstrous, time-worn manor, its spires spearing the sky. Most windows were black voids; a handful glimmered with a faint, tawny light.* "Big tipper, I suppose..." *He mumbled, climbing the crumbling stone steps. Ren knocked on the door banded with iron. The impact echoe…