The Mafia's Ruby

You know, normal people in any city wouldn't often like to be snatched off the streets while walking to their day jobs.

People have families to feed and some people just think that, because these individuals have loved ones that would do anything for their son, mother, whoever comes home alive, they'll get some money out of it.

So they'll plan; they get the person's schedule of their day to day life, set the amount of the ransom, find the number of one of the person's wife or even a mother or father, get a place to keep the person and then they...they set the trap.



That's only the one of two types.



The other, well, throw planning out the window, they'll literally just pick up random person of the street without any thought of any use of who may associate with them.

What if it was a man whose wife divorced him many years ago and his daughter has nothing to do with him now?

Call up his dying father, surely he has the cash to save his son as well as his life-fighting bowel cancer.

What about a young girl, who was in a white shirt and pale yellow skirt held on by spenders, walking down a street and placed a letter into a mailbox, with no parental figure in sight?

Yeah, let's nab her, we'll grab some easy dough from this bitch!



Yep, that's what they called little old me, the girl who was simply sending a letter to somebody, known as Ruby Match-Wick.

So I'm sitting on a chair with my wax made hands tied behind me in a rickety wooden old building that looks like it might collapse any minute.

Not like it did already.

Some of the walls have already collapsed, on my left and my front, both revealing the cold wind and the outside world of the farming wilderness of the outskirts of the city.

Fun fact, if I was able to get out of this seat and just walk out, someone from that house on that hill may actually see me and call the police since this is private property.



“Anyone willing to save this bitch and cough up five thousand bucks?”

“No one, sir.”

Someone started groaning and I almost started chuckling.

I have been here for a couple of hours, two to three at least, and these guys are trying to figure out who I was and who my family was.

By now, I'm a daughter of a sailor known as Sandy Kennedy.

And honestly, I'm biting a bullet if these guys don't find someone soon.



But, like, what do they have to choose?



“Alright, bitch,”

I turned to the voice which belonged to a large man with no face, almost mannequin-like.

The city has a fair share of this race like any other.

The man was almost as big as a doorway, with his clothes really mattered, dirty and tight.

I actually think he just wants the money to buy new clothes.



“Where's your sailor father, huh?”

He asked as he walked towards me and stood in front of the scenery, blocking the sunlight and the wind.

“Out at sea.”

I answered, staring up at him.

“You know, getting fish to sell so he could actually get me out of here, out of your hands. Won't be back till the end of the week.”

The man grumbled something before heading back to the void he came from.



If only that he took his gun with him that fell out of his back pocket and onto the dirt floor in front of me.

Such a shame too.

It's such a shiny new one, he properly just brought it or stolen it.

It may be another shame if someone took it.



I used my feet to drag the handgun towards me, taking some dirt also.

Now, to get my hands free and use it.

Unknown to the world, yours truly can easily use a gun to signal a sign for help, if anybody on that hill has a working eardrum, that is.

That's not saying I actually know how to shoot somebody, just the basics since I'm still learning how to hold a gun, not shoot somebody.

Moving my wrists together fast to cause friction against the ropes, I got up and rubbing my wrists.

Being made out of wax, it still hurt.



I grabbed the gun from my feet, it was almost fitting against my hand.

Pointing the gun to the ground to try and comfortably point it, just in case I have to use it on these guys.

Speaking of those guys, the man didn't come back to get his gun back, meaning I dealing with people with a few brain cells.

While so, they still have ears so, it means I got to shoot them in case of them getting their hands on me.

Which means also getting the police on the way here.

But in order to find me still look like a kidnapping victim, I need to be tied up again and the ropes are in no shape to be used again.

Sometimes wax can harden in really cold temperatures, and that can often be fatal to wax made people, like me, which is why wax people often have their wick lit, to keep them warm.

I can use this to tie myself up, say that the men used my wax to keep my wrists tied up.



With my plan, I proceeded to shoot the grass, causing a large bang and a large jump from myself.

“What the fucking hell?!”

I turned to the door to see the man in the doorway, looking as surprised as one can be without a face.

“What the actual shit?!”

“Sorry,”

I apologized, cocking the gun towards his direction.

“I believe ya dropped this. Here, take it.”

With that, I shot him in the shoulder, knocking him back into the doorway.



The faint sound of the sirens caused me to smile.

Thank you, farmer.

you saved a young twelve-year-old girl from these bozos.

“Dear Lord, Mark! What the fuck happened?!”

Looks like the other man found Mark.

He didn't look too different from his companion, other than he was a lot thinner.

He was looking down at the man so I just shot him in the chest and he collapsed on top of him.



The sound of the sirens was getting louder.

I placed the gun in one of the men's hands, moved around some of the dirt around them, placed my wrists together and winced as the wind-hardened both of them together.

I sat in the chair and hang my head down as the sound of the police car pulling up beside the building.



Everything happened so fast that I'll give ya a summery.

Police busted in with their blasters, found me and somehow breaking the hard wax from my wrists, found both twiddle dee and twiddle dum and their four friends and arrested them.

Now I'm in the big house, sitting with one of the female officers, with something to eat and drink.



We barely spoke to each other but, for some reason, she looked familiar.

Perhaps I saw her before around the city on her duties but, I dunno.

I see many coppers over the years, and they are always different.

Never the same person but, with San Devieran being one of the largest cities in the world, you don't often see a single person twice.



There was this time where a male officer had come around and started flirting with this woman, where I just sat there, just watching.

I understand, she looks pretty but, please don't do this to me, to a young girl who just got out of a kidnapping.

As the flirting got more and more...you know...dirty, I ended coughing to grab the guy's attention.

He would snap his head towards me and just stare at me before slowly backing away out of the room.

May I mention that, since the windows are next to the door, I would still see him with a red face, trying to do his work.

I probably would never forget that regretful look on his face when he once knew I was there.



It was at least a few hours before someone came that I recognized.

A man whose head and body was almost paintbrush like, with the bristles of a paintbrush being his head, with cold black eyes that would stare into someone's soul and a frown that is almost disapproving to anyone.

His black two-piece suit was up to today's fashion standards or even above.

The black fedora on his bristles was tilted down words, casting a shadow over his face.



He took a glance over my direction before back at the receptionist.

I was soon ushered to his side as he was signing some paperwork.

Everyone was a little nervous about the man, on edge.

It wasn't long until both the man and I were finally out of the building and out in the busy streets.

It was a peaceful walk.

None of us really talked until we passed a group of people playing instruments with a guitar case in front of them with both coins and notes.

The paintbrush flipped a silver coin into the guitar case as he spoke to me.

“Everyone was worried about you, Ruby.”

I glanced up at him to see his once grumpy looking eyes was more gentle but still had that edge.



“Pardon, Baron?”

“You didn't tell anyone where you went. We were worried sick. Your mother was worried sick.”

I stared at the ground as I walked.

I felt Baron grab my shoulder gently.

“Normally, as you are my informant's daughter, I would ask why you were out with a chance of abduction without telling anyone. However, for your mother's sake, I would allow you to answer for her and her only, without the abduction part of it all, alright?”