S-TWC-006
St. Valentine's Ledger
Patron: Nickels Costigan
Date: Aug 10th, 1923 – Gold Coast District
Location: St. Valentine's
Proprietor: Nickels
Mags danced like the whole damn stage belonged to her bones.
Spins so clean you’d think she rehearsed with the moon herself. Every step, every breath, a perfect beat. The crowd didn’t cheer when she finished. They exhaled. Like they’d forgotten they were allowed to. My goodness…
Of course, beauty like that always brings the ugly out of this city.
I was halfway through my drink when he sat down beside me. A man in a gold and black suit. Pinstripe. Pocket square that shimmered like an oil slick on holy water. Rings on every finger and a smile like polished teeth in someone else’s mouth.
Voice like silk wrapped around broken glass.
████████████████████████████.
"You see her, Canary? Of course you do. Like █████████████████, eh?" He said as he wrapped his arm around me. Tight. Suffocating.
“███████████████, ain’t it?”
He just smiled real wide and real wrong.
"I see how you look at her. And I want to ██████████████. ████████████. ███████████."
"What do you want?"
"Three things. Simple. All within reach of your pretty little voice."
He poured something dark into my glass. Not hooch. Not booze. Something thick and shiny like oil. I didn’t drink it.
"First: keep an eye on her. Mags,” he said her voice with such a sneer it almost made my heart skip a beat. “Listen when she speaks. Watch where she steps. There are precious few left who can get in my way, but her contractor? Let’s just say we’ve tangoed before. And I don’t like their steps. Slow, sluggish, but powerful. Second: I want you to sing for her. A real song. From the ribcage—” he shoved his finger right over my heart, and this time it did skip a beat. It pulsed like a spark for him. I hate that it does that. “The one I taught you long ago. You remember it, don’t you? █████████████████████████."
I did. God help me, I did.
"You think she’s lovely now? Wait till she hears that one. It unwinds the seams, Nickels. It shows the soul underneath. Let her see yours. Let her answer."
"And the third?"
He leaned in, close enough I could smell ██████████ and ██████████.
"Third: When the bridge rises—and it will—when the city wakes, you open the gate. You won’t need a key. Just your voice. That song is the key. And then, my Canary, we are done."
"Done?"
"Done. You will be free. I promise it. "
"What good are your promises?"
"Doesn’t matter, does it? You’re mine, Canary. And you’ll sing for me ‘til I’ve had my fill."
He tapped the table. Once. A sound like a final note at the end of a symphony.
Then he was gone.
Unsmudge the Ledger
"A cruel and loathly master."
Knowledge | 2 Words