BADDWOLF

Prologue: The School Of Hard Knocks

Prologue: The School Of Hard Knocks

Darkened Alley Way, Outside Leonetti's Restaurant, Temple City...

        Unyielding and merciless hunger pains ripped through the body of a small and incredibly thin lad with slick black hair down to his shoulders and crisp blue eyes as he attempted to make himself move through the dark black puddles on the rain-slick sidewalk as the cold and disorientation brought on by his slow starvation made it quite difficult for him to navigate the vast streets and winding alleyways before him. He was shirtless, one could see the thin build of his muscle tone and a bit of his ribcage from one glance when anyone bothered to look upon him. His legs were covered in torn and ill-fitting brown trousers that seemed to ride up his caves as he ran. His feet were bare, a mistake if ever there was one to be made given all the dirt and grime on the streets and sidewalks. They were covered in water and filth as he continued his long run zipping by establishment after establishment in fear for his young life and desperately trying to avoid being captured by infamous scalp hunters known collectively as The Boys In Black.

The Boys In Black were armed to the teeth with pistols of the old era and future high-tech gadgets that enabled their" retrieval jobs" all the easier for them when employed by certain government officials. The boy had been an escapee of sorts although, he had not begun his life in such conditions. He'd been born in the Irish Region Of Munster. His family had been quite poor like most people born after The Great Reset of the World that took place in the 2000's crime, starvation, and overall rage had been at an all-time high and the scumbags who fancied themselves in charge thought they could run an entire world full of unruly people by starving them, causing discontent, and gender confusion and separation. Needless to say, they poked the bear one too many times, and people who were around long enough to remember the old days sparked a new kind of revolution.

Tired of being corralled like cattle and treated lower than peasants, the people revolted massively on a grand scale causing the privileged to take refuge elsewhere while the angry people took over their left-behind mega cities where all the wealth and privilege had been splurged on for the sake of vacation spots for those thinking people were beneath them. The rage festered and the people took back what they would have had in the glory days. There was no government, no de facto leader but those with means eventually managed to conquer states like they were individual countries and territories of their own.

It was a time of utter chaos and rampant scientific experimentation that both advanced technology and broke all the rules when it came to human decency. The wealthy and powerful ended up creating a secondary race of genetically altered human beings that lived among the traditional race.  "Grafties", or the derogatory name "Giraffes" resulted in the second race being treated like the animals they were spliced with.

The lungs of the running boy were burning as he gasped for breath which only served to hurt his already aching lungs the more he took in. The dry heat had not been much in the way of assistance for him as he felt his muscles begin to stiffen and cramp due to how long he'd been running. Desperation had finally led him to an Italian restaurant on the corner of 4th and Hill Street, where he could see the flashing of the red neon and the darkened alleyway that he longed to slip into. Try as he might, he had not quite made it to the alley before his legs gave out and he found himself tripping over his own weary feet and tumbling into the grey garbage cans that were promptly lined up behind the restaurant and near the darkened alley.

The loud ruckus had gotten the attention of the gentlemen who had been doing business inside and they came out with guns blazing. The Boys In Black were pelted with bullets and were forced to take cover and return fire, but found they'd been out of their league and outmanned in the exchange. The owner of the establishment had not been much for government officials and rightly despised the twisted freaks who were rumored to go about kidnapping helpless people's children and carting them off to be experimented on and who knew what else.

"GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY NEIGHBORHOOD!" shouted the owner of the establishment enraged at their very presence. "YOU TWO BIT CHILD THIEVING ASSHOLES!"

His crew were also dressed in black suits with white pinstripes and shiny dress shoes with what had been known to have been fedora hats but had a more refined look than mysterious as they continued to fire off shot after shot of their high-powered weapons at the intruders to their neighborhood. They mirrored the gangsters of old like it was their own identity from way back when after coming across old footage of digital films and emulating the style to soot them in the so-called modern age.

Having no choice, the fiends backed off their pursuit believing the boy as good as dead with the normies about in the first place once they found out what he'd truly been. The crew had gone back inside as per the instruction of their leader, who had taken notice of the now unconscious boy amid his toppled trash cans.

"Pieces of shit have no decency," he muttered.

As it turned out, the man in charge of the restaurant and subsequent territory was none other than the infamous criminal organized crime soldier, Vincenzo Michael Leonetti. He'd been the more distinguished of all the hot-headed criminals in his era as well as Temple City, having more brains than the lot of them as well as brawn to back it up. He stood at an impressive six-two in height and weighed about 200 lbs soaking wet. He was known for his curly red hair and piercing blue eyes as well as his fierce temper when wronged as much as he was known for his cunning and tact when in a pinch. Vincenzo was a brute of a man any other time with a taste for chasing skirts no matter the season.

Yet, somewhere beneath the tough guy exterior, he had something of a heart and it was often soft in the presence of little children. Most women had said it was his only redeeming quality as he was still very much a murderer and a thief like any other in his chosen line of work.

Most people attributed his soft heart when it came to kids, to his upbringing in The New Bronx, and being an orphan in his own right, only he had the wits to make himself useful to any of the adults involved which served him well in the end. He eventually established the restaurant with his earnings investing in a downtrodden neighborhood not so unlike his own.

As he approached the downed boy, Vincenzo sighed lifting the sickly lad into his arms and carried him through the back exit and into his personal office.

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The Back Office, Leonetti's Restaurant, Temple City...

  When the sickly boy finally came to, he found that he'd been lying on a leather sofa in a warm place where an older man was sitting at a desk away from him but he'd sat out a plate of spaghetti and a large glass of milk before him. The confused boy looked at the food, feeling his stomach growl as loudly as it had before he passed out. He was slightly embarrassed by the loudness of the noise as his formerly pale cheeks turned red.

Vincenzo smiled at him knowing all too well what he must have been feeling.

"Go on and eat kid." he urged him. "No one's gonna take it from you."

Slowly, the boy dug into the food with his hands scarfing down his huge portion of food like a wild animal as he kept looking over at the older man who had come to his apparent rescue. He didn't know what to say to him, as the sickly boy had not spoken the same language or any language at all, but he was grateful to him.

He polished off the food in record time prompting the man to ask if he wanted more. The boy understood and nodded. Vincenzo gave him his fill of food, amazed that he ate so well for such a small lad, and turned his attention to the pressing matter of where to place the boy. He knew the kid was on the run and he didn't in the least wish to leave him to his own devices, the city would no doubt chew him up and spit him out faster than the twisted government agents did.

The older man made up his mind at that moment to look after the boy. A decision that ended up benefiting him greatly in the long run. Vincenzo had been of the school of hard knocks and as such recognized the look of one who had been put through its harsh lesson. Taking pity on the boy he knew he had made the right decision to keep him with him.

"Listen, kid, I don't know your name and you probably can't understand a word I'm saying but I think it's best you bunk with me for a while...see how things play out," said Vincenzo with a smile as he stood before the still eating boy with spaghetti sauce about his face.

The older man was grateful for the digital records of what people used to eat and how to make it even with limited ingredients being online as it was one of his staple meals at his restaurant. Authentic Italian Cuisine, whatever that meant despite people flocking to it with Black Pennies in hand.

The boy seemed to agree that it was safer to stay with Vincenzo and nodded after his efforts to explain via gesture, which wasn't difficult as he often spoke with his hands due to his Italian heritage.

"Since I don't know your name, I'll call you Francesco...Frankie after my little brother," he said more so to himself as The boy continued to eat his fill of spaghetti and finally drank down his milk, it was a processed beverage illegally imported from wild cows, but it was a delicacy when it came to kids. It did wonders for making adults stronger and kept their teeth longer as well.

The digital records had been helpful in instruction on how to procure "Milk" as well and Vincenzo took full advantage of it.

When they had finished up in the office, Vincenzo took Frankie to his home, a rather enormous apartment complex that rivaled even the most decadent of wealthy mansions.

The lad seemed content enough as Vincenzo had fed and protected him, something his former father had done back in his old home before the monsters in black suits shot him to death for daring to defy their order to seize him when their experimental drug given to help with his childhood sickness had mutated his genetic coding and they attempted to collect him as "property".

The boy had definitely thought of Vincenzo Leonetti, as a father figure despite him not having any children of his own.

SEVERAL YEARS LATER...