LUCCAZ MADE MEN ~unedited & subject to change Prologue The Return of the Boogieman Lucca dropped the white paper bag. covered in grease stains, letting it slip through his fingers. The second it hit the cold concrete floor, you could hear the crashing of harsh chains as the dirty creature crawled from where it had been hiding in the darkened corner and into the glow of light. Taking the metal chair from the wall, Lucca unfolded it and placed it in front of the ravenous being before he sat down. There were two feet ofcold floor separating them: the first foot was for safety, but the second was for his nose, because not even the strong scent coming from the bag could mask that stench. The thing before him had once been human, even though his name, Lucifer, said otherwise, and while he had lived up to his name with his once wicked ways, he was still human, nonetheless. Now Lucifer Luciano, the former mob boss of the Luciano family, was closer to being animal than a man. It was fitting, Lucca supposed, he always thought made men were just animals hiding beneath their expensive Italian suits. He knew it because He was one, too. Known as the Boogieman of Kansas City, there was no one left to rival his cruel reputation as his enemy now sat in chains. He figured, in another universe, the roles could be reversed. It might have been Lucca shoving the burger and fries down his throat as ifhe was a dog eating his last meal while Lucifer stood above him. Thankfully, however, in this world, that wasn’t the case.There wasn’t much that could turn Lucca’s stomach, but slowly watching the outside of Lucifer match the inside had been something else entirely. The transformation seemed to even resonate with a part of Lucea’s own sick brain because ... What lived in Lucifer lived dormant in him. The sickness that lurked just below the surface only stayed there because he had taught himself control; letting it only seep out during opportune times, if it could bring him closer to his ultimate goal. Lucifer’s, however, didn’t ever live underneath the surface; his sickness cocooned him, only getting thicker with age. But now the hard shell had been cracked with Lucifer’s loss of power, as Lucca forced him out, blooming the disgustingly helpless creature into its final form. The sight of it all should turn his stomach, knowing he, too, could have ended up just like Lucifer ... but then he would remember why Lucifer had ended up here in the first place, and suddenly the rotten smell of flesh would become satisfying enough for him to move his chair a foot closer. At the movement, Lucifer coward mid-bite, only going back to his ravenous ways when his captor didn’t make another move.Lucca didn’t have to do anything else. Having him cower before him was enough to satiate the thoughts that went through his head. It was the scars carved into a young girl that had brought them both here, in this concrete room. Unluckily enough for Lucifer, the carvings that he had cut into a young girl’s porcelain skin many years ago had become the scars that Lucca had fallen in love with at first sight. That scarred girl was also the reason that he wouldn't be the one on the cold, hard floor, because she alone kept the monster within. With the last bite, Lucifer licked his fingers, getting any grease left behind, along with any crumbs left under his nails. Like a starved animal, once his hunger was satiated, Lucca could see the old Lucifer slightly return in his black orbs. “What's the occasion?” “The occasion?” Lucca asked, not knowing what Lucifer meant while carefully noting the hint of the old voice of his prisoner had returned, as well.“The suit.” Lucifer dropped his eyes to his all-black, custom-made garment. “I’ve only seen you wear it a handful of times ... when the Boogieman has business to attend to.” A sly smile began to touch Lucea’s lips. “So, what’s happened to grace us with the return of the Boogieman?” Lucifer asked again with a hopefulness in his voice. Ah... Now L understand. Lucifer was right, there was no hiding the monster underneath when he was dressed to kill. When the black suit was on, the Boogieman came out to play. Lucca reached into his pocket, taking out a pack of cigarettes. He gave the bottom a hard hit before he removed a stick and placed it between his sneering lips. “Today isn’t the day you die, Lucifer.” The old Lucifer vanished, and in its place, the creature returned. “When?” it wailed as it began begging at Lucca’s feet. “When are you going to finally fucking kill me?”“Your body might belong to me,” Lucca said, lighting the end of the cigarette, the glow from the flame dancing over his handsome face, “but your soul isn’t mine to take.” Lucifer hadn’t been a fearful man before he'd entered this cell, but that was all that remained inside of the man he’d once been. Now, fear dripped out of his every crevice, because if Lucca was saving him for someone else, then that was a person he didn’t want the misfortune of meeting. Giving up. the prisoner’s chains rattled as he flung his back to the ground and lay there, helplessly wishing for death. That was just no fun for Lucca. Rising from his chair, he placed it back against the far wall, in its place. Lucifer turned his head from where he mindlessly stared up at the concrete ceiling to the leaving back of his captor. “You didn’t tell me the special occasion,” he commented curiously, glaring back at the suit. Even though Lucifer Luciano was a piece that had been wiped from the board in the mafia world, he was always going to want to know if he had been a part of the winning or losing side.Inhaling deep on his cigarette, Lucca spun on his heel. Then, as a smoky cloud escaped with each word, he said, “That’s right. You haven’t been able to hear the good news.” It wasn’t the creature that waited on bated breath for Lucca’s next words, but the once Luciano mob boss. “Kansas City has a new king ... and you’re looking right at him.”