07 Mar Let Them All Burn

I proceeded down the dark, abandoned street on a cold autumn night, my hands in the pockets of my trench coat as I desperately tried to stay warm. The pavements I tread were already covered in a thin layer of frost, and the first flakes of snow were beginning to fall from the dark, starless skies above.

All in all, it was a bitterly cold night, and I would have preferred to be at home in bed, but duty called. I had an unpleasant job to do this evening, and the cold weather worked to my advantage, as there were few people on the streets…which meant fewer potential witnesses.

Using my mental map, I walked down Palmero Street in the Little Italy district and was pleased to find the block abandoned, with not a soul to be seen on either side of the road. So far, so good, I thought. As always, I’d done my due diligence in preparation for this job, and I knew there wasn’t any functional CCTV on the block.

Nevertheless, I wore my fedora hat low and had a scarf covering most of my face. I knew from bitter experience not to take any chances. My target that night was Scalini’s Restaurant, a legitimate business with very illegitimate owners. Scalini’s was a front for the Luciano crime family, used for money laundering, amongst other illegal activities.

Right now, the restaurant was closed for the night—its shutters down and doors firmly locked. I stood for a moment on the icy pavement as snowflakes fell on my head, ignoring the cold and looking past the sealed door and windows to see what lay inside.

This is part of my special power, you see—the ability to see through walls and barriers, navigating hidden and secret places with my mind, even when my physical body was unable to enter. In my mind’s eye, I saw the restaurant’s interior with chairs neatly stacked upon tables and bottles sitting atop shelves behind the bar.

For a moment, I considered starting the conflagration at the bar but realized this could lead to unwanted questions from the police and insurers, not to mention the Luciano family enforcers. And so my avatar moved on, leaving the main restaurant and entering the kitchen, where I found a wealth of opportunities.

Picking my target, I focused all my mental strength on the gas oven, drawing the hidden energy out from the cold air and using my mind to shape invisible atoms into sparks. The fire took root inside of the oven, small at first, but soon growing into a powerful inferno that consumed everything in its path.

Soon, the entire kitchen was burning, and the rest of the establishment would shortly follow. I exited my trance state at this point, my mind returning to my body as I no longer needed to observe and control events through my avatar. Because now, I could see the flames behind the windows and smell the smoke rising from the building’s roof.

The restaurant’s fire alarms were blaring, and I could hear the distant sound of sirens. The firefighters were en route, but it was already too late. My work here was done, and I didn’t want to be around when the authorities arrived, so I turned my back on the quickly burning structure and retreated into the shadows and back streets, making good my escape.

I arrived home shortly before dawn, remaining as quiet as possible as I threw my clothes into the washer. I didn’t think there was a risk of forensic evidence. I hadn’t entered the building after all, and there was no smoke or cinders on my clothing. Nevertheless, this was my post-job ritual. I guess I just felt unclean after doing the mob’s dirty work.

One step closer, that’s what I kept telling myself. This attack brought me closer to being free from my obligation to Don Barzini. A few more arson jobs and my debt would be cleared, and finally, I could move on with my life and become a decent father to my child.

With my ritual completed, I quietly ascended the staircase and gently opened my daughter’s bedroom door. I watched for a moment as she slept, noting how her tiny body twitched under the covers, and she murmured whilst suffering from yet another nightmare.

Watching my little girl suffer broke my heart, and all I could do was approach her bed, tuck my child in, and kiss her gently on the forehead in an attempt at reassurance. With this small act of fatherly love completed, I exited my daughter’s room and went to my own bed, laying on the hard mattress and staring up at the ceiling.

I knew I wouldn’t sleep during what little remained of that night, guilt and anxiety eating away at me as I once again questioned why God had cursed me with this so-called “gift.”

There’s no support group for the affliction I suffer from. I can’t turn up to the back room of a church and announce, ‘Hey, my name is Paulo. And I’m a pyromancer.’

I don’t know where I got this power from. Is it hereditary? Could my father do the same things I can? Unfortunately, he didn’t stick around long enough for me to find out.

And will this curse be passed onto my daughter? Will she inherit my powers once she comes of age? I pray every night that this won’t be the case. I wouldn’t wish this “gift” on my worst enemy, let alone the most important person in my life. More than anything, I just want my little girl to have a normal, safe, and happy life–especially after everything I’ve put her through.

What can I say about my own upbringing? I haven’t had an easy life. That’s not an excuse for all the crap I’ve done, but it’s the truth nonetheless. My father wasn’t around, and my mother was a drunk. She had a series of abusive boyfriends, and I was a troubled kid who had taken a lot of beatings.

Oddly, I can’t remember the first time I created fire using nothing but the power of my mind. I know it started shortly after puberty and was initially closely linked to my emotions. When I felt angry or sad, I burned things, taking small comfort from the flames.

I had no real control over my powers back then, and the reckless fires I started burned fiercely, destroying property and sometimes causing severe injuries. It was only later that I honed my skills, controlling both my emotions and the fires as my attacks became more targeted.

I eventually realized I didn’t even need to be in the same room or building to unleash a fiery inferno. I could leave my body in the moment, becoming an avatar who could move through walls and conjure flames from thin air. I’d like to say that I always used my powers for good, but sadly, this wasn’t the case.

I was a troubled kid in desperate need of money and sold my powers to the highest bidder, which eventually brought me into contact with the criminal underworld. So many arson attacks followed…too many to remember. In time, they all merge into one horrendous inferno in my memory.

I became sickened by the violence and turned to alcohol and drugs, realizing that my powers were dulled whilst I was intoxicated. It was around this time that I fathered a child, but I wasn’t there for her and her mother in the early years.

My life spiraled out of control, and ultimately, I ended up in prison. This was a turning point for me. I got clean and kept my powers in check, becoming a new man by the time I got released. In a sad twist of fate, my ex-girlfriend died suddenly, and I was forced to become a full-time parent to my daughter—a girl of ten who’d lived her short life without knowing her father.

It wasn’t easy taking her in, but this was the best thing to ever happen to me. I wanted so badly to be a good father and law-abiding citizen. But sadly, I couldn’t escape from my past.

My years of addiction had devastated my finances, and I still owed a substantial debt to my former employers, the notorious Barzini crime family. Threats were made, and I reluctantly agreed to pay off my debt the only way I knew how: by committing untraceable arson attacks and burning rival businesses like Scalini’s to the ground.

And so, this is the unfortunate situation I was in when my story began. I was walking a tightrope whilst trying to keep my two lives separate, but of course, it couldn’t last.

I met Silvio Barzini the next day in a mob-affiliated bar on the outskirts of Little Italy, arriving at lunchtime when the place would be quiet. I found Silvio sitting in a corner booth nursing a small glass of red wine and noted the finely tailored suit he wore. The mobster’s appearance was always immaculate.

Silvio didn’t rise from his chair as I approached, instead smiling thinly as he watched me closely with his dark, predatory eyes. He motioned for me to take a seat in the booth, which I reluctantly did.

Silvio was the Don’s nephew and a rising star in the crime family. He was also my handler and assigned me arson jobs, so I had no choice but to deal with the gangster. I knew Silvio Barzini’s reputation for violence and didn’t wish to get on his wrong side.

He offered me a drink, which I politely refused, as I wanted to get straight to business.

“Was the boss happy with the job last night?” I asked cautiously.

Silvio nodded and took another sip of wine before replying. “He was content. A small job in the grand scheme of things, but useful nonetheless.”

I paused for a moment, struggling to ask my next question.

“How many more?” I finally uttered, “How many more jobs until my debt is cleared?”

I didn’t know how Silvio would react to my pressing question. I feared he might become angry, and so I was surprised to see him smile like a crocodile as he met my eye.

“Funny you should mention it, my friend. We have a big job for you…very important for the family’s future. If you succeed, all debts will be cleared and your obligation to us fulfilled. However, if you fail, there will be serious consequences.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing and struggled to comprehend what I’d been told. One big job and I would be free, but Silvio had also delivered a thinly veiled threat, and so I realized the stakes were high. Nevertheless, the prospect of my debt being fully cleared was just too enticing, and so I took the bait.

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” I asked.

Silvio’s menacing grin didn’t falter as he carefully reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small, folded sheet of paper.

“A former associate of ours has unwisely decided to cooperate with the federal government.” he explained in a hushed voice, “This traitor is in protective custody, but we have discovered his location.”

He slid the paper across the table towards me. Glancing down, I saw an address written on it.

“Needless to say, this rat must not be allowed to testify. We are trusting you with this important task, Paulo. Don’t let us down.”

I felt a cold chill creeping up my spine as I looked into the mobster’s cool, soulless eyes. The implication was clear. The Barzini family was asking me to carry out a murder…the only crime I’d never previously committed. I’d burned down buildings, torched cars, and put people in the hospital.

But I’d never killed anyone before. This wasn’t a line I wished to cross—but what choice did I have? Silvio had made it clear that failure wasn’t an option, and this one last act of violence would finally permit my daughter and me to live in peace.

So, to my internal shame, I pocketed the address and meekly nodded my head, agreeing to kill a man in exchange for my freedom.

What can I say about my final job for the Barzinis? I spent several sleepless nights going over it in my head, desperately trying to find some way out of the heinous task. But in the end, I could think of no alternative…and so I made my way to the address scribbled on that piece of paper.

The safe house was outside of the city and located at the end of a long and lonely rural road. I parked about a mile away from the house and completed the last leg of my journey on foot. It was a cold night for a walk, but I didn’t want to pull up in my car and alert the target.

The informant was holed up in a literal cabin in the woods, and I was able to hide behind the darkened trees and observe the goings-on inside.

My target was sitting in the living room in front of a roaring fire, half asleep as he nursed a glass of brandy. The job would be so easy, I thought. Just one spark from the fireplace and the whole wooden structure would go up in smoke. The feds would be suspicious, of course, but they wouldn’t be able to prove it wasn’t an accident.

It was a simple thing for me to start the fire, and yet I hesitated—and thank God I did so. Because a moment later, a second figure entered the living room—a young girl with long, flowing dark hair that jumped onto her father’s lap, waking him from his semi-slumber.

I watched the father and daughter interact for a time and saw the love between them. And, of course, I couldn’t do the job. I would not burn a girl the same age as my daughter; there was just no way. And so I abandoned my mission of murder and left the family in peace, retreating through the forest and returning to my car.

I knew there would be repercussions for my failure to complete the job, but I didn’t expect them to be so sudden and so violent. I was driving my daughter to school the next morning. She was sullen and uncommunicative, sitting in the back seat whilst scrolling on her tablet.

My daughter was prone to dark moods and angry outbursts, but I gave my little girl a good deal of slack. She’d been through so much, after all, having lost her mother at such a young age. It was my job to protect her, but my chaotic lifestyle was inadvertently putting her at risk.

I was still thinking of what to do as we made our morning commute. Maybe I could still make good with the Barzini’s. I could tell Silvio that I couldn’t do the hit but would continue to work for the family, carrying out small arson attacks until my debt was paid off. It might work, but this seemed unlikely, given the warning I’d already received.

I reckoned we’d have to run. I would need to take my daughter and get the hell out of dodge. In fact, I considered just putting my foot down on the accelerator and driving straight out of town…but events interceded.

We stopped at a red light, and I didn’t notice the dark Cadillac pulling up beside me—not until it was too late.

It all happened so fast. I spotted the dark-tinted window lowering and caught a glimpse of the gunman in the back seat. My instincts burst into action as I shouted a warning to my daughter and dove into the back seat to protect her.

Simultaneously, the gunman opened fire, unleashing a stream of deadly bullets that tore through my car, shattering the windows and penetrating the interior.

I heard my girl’s scream of terror over the thunderous din of gunfire as I grabbed hold of her tiny body. The attack ended as quickly as it began, as the black car sped off through the lights, leaving a scene of devastation behind them.

Pulling myself up, I soon realized that I hadn’t been shot. But my daughter wasn’t so lucky. To my horror, I looked down and saw my girl’s wide eyes full of terror and pain. A bullet had torn into her right shoulder, and she was bleeding heavily.

I fought hard to control my panic as I applied pressure on the wound, reassuring my daughter as I screamed at a passer-by to call an ambulance.

Two days later, I was back on the streets…back on my old stomping grounds in Little Italy. My little girl had survived the shooting, but only just. The surgeons had removed the bullet from her shoulder, and she was in recovery; her condition was serious but stable. If the bullet had struck an inch to the left, she’d be dead.

I should have been with her in the hospital, but instead, I had one last job to do. The fear I had about my daughter’s condition was soon replaced by raging anger, unlike anything I’d previously experienced. I knew she would never be safe as long as the Barzinis lived, and I wanted revenge on the bastards who’d done this to her.

And so, I found myself standing on the pavement opposite the member’s club that served as the Barzini’s headquarters, trying to funnel my seething anger into a targeted attack upon my enemies.

I used the full extent of my powers, leaving my physical body as my avatar passed through the walls of the building and secretly observed the scene inside.

I counted seven men in the back room of the clubhouse, including Don Barzini, the grey-haired, overweight boss of the crime family who sat sipping red wine whilst taking counsel from his men. Silvio was there, of course, speaking in hushed tones to his don about the family’s nefarious business.

Two other men sat around the table, well-dressed mobsters who I believed were capos in the Barzini organization. Meanwhile, three younger men in tracksuits sat at a separate table on the far side of the room, drinking beers and playing cards. I guessed they were associates or bodyguards. It didn’t matter to me, however. All the men in the clubhouse were gangsters and fair game in my eyes.

I put all doubt to the back of my mind, focusing all my attention and power on a single point in the room as I was determined to unleash the deadliest and most destructive fire I’d ever created.

The fire started at the associate’s side table, their cards suddenly bursting into flames as the astonished trio jumped up from their chairs and cried out in dismay. It took a moment for the don and his captains to recognize the imminent threat. By the time they did, it was already too late, as the flames spread so quickly.

I took a grim satisfaction as I watched the gangsters fight for their lives, struggling to escape the growing inferno but instead being consumed one by one. I particularly enjoyed seeing Silvio betray his beloved Don, refusing to help the old man as he clambered over him in a desperate attempt to save his own skin.

As it happened, Silvio made it further than any of the others, escaping the back room and even making his way out onto the street, even though the flames had consumed his body. The doomed man screamed in agony as he burst through the door, and I no longer needed my avatar to see the bastard, as he was standing and burning on the street opposite me.

I’m glad I was the last face Silvio saw before his demise, because he knew I was the one who’d killed him. The gangster cried out as he tried to reach for his gun, but his body was burned beyond repair, and he collapsed down to the pavement as bystanders screamed and sirens blared in the distance.

I smiled grimly, taking one last look at the raging inferno and charred bodies before I calmly fled from the scene.

It didn’t take long for the doubts to enter my head as I drove from the scene of the crime, still seeing the rising smoke and flashing lights in my rear-view mirror. Honestly, I didn’t regret killing those men in such a horrific manner. I thought I’d find it more difficult to take seven human lives, but I could have killed seven hundred or even seven thousand, if it meant protecting my only child. And besides, those bastards had it coming.

Still, I knew this wouldn’t be the end of it. I wasn’t worried about the cops. Even if they did link me to the crime, there would be no forensic evidence. The mob was another matter, however. Don Barzini and his top lieutenants were dead, but there were many other soldiers in the family who would surely seek revenge. And then there was the Commission. The other families might be happy to see Barzini gone, but they couldn’t let such a brazen attack upon their organization slide.

I knew I would never be safe from this day onwards. But what should I do? I fully intended to spend every hour and day at the hospital until my girl recovered…and then we’d run. The two of us would start up somewhere new under an assumed identity. Maybe it would work out, but I’d always be looking over my shoulder.

I felt sick with worry as I walked down the hospital corridor and entered my daughter’s room, seeing her asleep in bed, her shoulder wound bandaged and an IV drip hooked into her arm. It broke my heart to see her like this, and I was so distracted that I almost missed the mysterious figure sitting in the corner of the room.

“She was awake earlier,” announced the intruder. “Still weak, of course, but the girl is strong and resilient. I believe she’s well on the way to recovery.”

I turned defensively to face the newcomer, seeing a smart and handsome man dressed in a black polo neck that shot me a charming smile and met my gaze with sharp, focused eyes.

I was understandably on edge and viewed the stranger as a threat, snarling at him as I narrowed my eyes.

“Who the hell are you?” I demanded.

The intruder shot me a disarming smile as he slowly rose from his seat and held out his hand in an apparent show of friendship.

“Forgive me, Paulo.” he said, “I apologize for the direct approach, but I just had to meet with you. My name is Mandrake, and I have a proposition for you. One which I think you’ll be very interested to hear.”

I clenched my teeth and refused to shake his hand. Something about this guy wasn’t right, and I remained highly suspicious. Honestly, my first instinct was to unleash violence. But this Mandrake character had me in a difficult position. I couldn’t summon the flames in this small hospital room without putting my daughter at risk. Besides, Mandrake could easily draw a weapon and take me out before I could use my special power. Whoever this guy was, he was smart and held all the cards.

“Are you one of Barzini’s men?” I asked defensively.

Mandrake let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head dismissively before responding.

“Good Lord, no. I’m no gangster, Paulo. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m not your enemy. Actually, I hope to be a good friend to you.”

He paused, motioning to the second chair at the opposite side of the room.

“Please, Paulo. Please take a seat so we can talk.”

I didn’t like this situation but couldn’t see that I had any choice, so I grabbed the chair and sat down opposite to him.

“What is it you want from me?” I asked suspiciously.

Mandrake’s friendly smile didn’t falter as he explained his intentions.

“Well, Paulo, I know you and understand your situation. I also know what you did today, and I fully support your actions. Frankly, you’ve done our city a great service by eliminating the leadership of the Barzini crime family. You have a great power in your hands, Paulo. In the past, you’ve used these special skills for the benefit of criminals and gangsters. But no more, my new friend. I want you to work for me.”

I scoffed in contempt before replying. “So, you want me to burn people for your gang? To condemn more innocents to suffer and die?”

Mandrake’s grin faded ever so slightly as he spoke in a harsher tone.

“I told you, Paulo, I’m not a gangster. In fact, I head up an organization of remarkable individuals like yourself who are fighting to end the reign of crime and terror that has plagued this city for too long. I believe you’ll make a fine addition to our association.”

I shook my head, intrigued but not convinced.

“No, I can’t do this anymore,” I replied. “I just want to keep my daughter safe.”

Mandrake nodded his head in apparent understanding, glancing over at my little girl, sleeping soundly in her bed.

“I get it,” Mandrake responded. “You’re a loving and devoted father. That much is obvious. The Barzini crew deserved to die for what they did to her. But what about the other soldiers? The other families? As powerful as you are, Paulo, you and your daughter will never be safe from mob retaliation. But my organization can offer you both full protection. All I ask in return is loyalty… Now, my friend, what do you say?”

The charming vigilante held out his hand once again. I stared at his outstretched hand for a long moment, thinking over his proposal. I wanted to walk away from all this chaos and violence but already knew it wasn’t so simple. The mob was a threat I couldn’t face alone, and a partnership with Mandrake might be the only way to keep my little girl safe.

I glanced over at my sleeping daughter again, seeing how vulnerable she looked in that hospital bed, and feeling an intense guilt over how I’d let her down.

And then I turned back towards Mandrake, accepting his hand of friendship and shaking firmly.

The wide grin returned to Mandrake’s face as his eyes lit up.

“Good man,” he said enthusiastically. “Now, let’s put you to work.”

And so that’s how I joined the Supernatural Vigilante Association—an underground paramilitary organization of special individuals using our powers to punish the criminals, predators, and corrupters who stalk our city’s streets.

Now I burn down buildings and incinerate wicked people for Mandrake. Does this make me one of the good guys? Honestly, I don’t know anymore.

But I’m no longer afraid of the mob. The only man I fear is Mandrake. Still, I must do his bidding to keep my little girl safe. I’ll do whatever’s necessary in the hope that one day we’ll find a way out.