Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - When Two Kids Kill A Mafia Boss, Even Death Can’t Stop His Revenge | Part 1

Episode Date: November 5, 2025

Listen to the full story TODAY with a free trial of Dr. NoSleep Premium. Cancel anytime. No commitment. Start your 7-day free trial:⁠⁠⁠ ⁠patreon.com/drnosleep⁠⁠⁠ Decades after sealing a brutal gangster and his enforcer inside a hidden arcade vault, a group of aging friends return to reclaim the rumored fortune—only to awaken the vengeful curse of the monsters they thought they’d buried alive. Author: Jake Bible For more terrifying stories from this author, check out his latest release – All The Monsters: Ten NoSleep Stories, Volume One: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FY438TSV * * * CONTENT DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content not limited to intense themes, strong language, and depictions of violence intended for adults. Parental guidance is strongly advised for children under the age of 18. Listener discretion is advised.  #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

If you crave more, Patreon is calling. Unlock ad-free episodes, early drops, and over 80 bonus tales too dark for the main feed. Link in the description below. The sound of unfolding paper cracks like branches during a thunderstorm. And the noise echoes off the slimy walls of the narrow alleyway. We sure about this? Johnny Wings asks, no one in particular. Each member of the group steals a look at Johnny Wings,

then focuses back on the piece of paper, and the crudely drawn map it holds, except for one man. His eyes don't leave the piece of paper. I'm sure, Sal Tumo replies. He's the one holding the map. He's also the one who can answer for all of them. I've been waiting for this since I was a kid. Jesus, Sal, get a life.

Kirk McHenry laughs. The corner of Sal's mouth twitches, and Kirk frowns. Sorry, Sal, I didn't mean nothing by it. You meant something, or you weren't. Wouldn't have said it. Eyes still on the map. Sal just stands there while the others shuffled their feet. Jesus Christ, are we doing this or what?

Roger Dodger knew, sparks. Even with this damn map, we could be in there a while. Dodger turns and studies the shorter of the two buildings, framing the alleyway. It may only be two stories, but the damn thing takes up most of the block. He shakes his head. They should have knocked this pile of crap down years ago. But it's a damn good thing they did. Sal says, finally folding the map and slipping it inside his jacket.

Because what's in this pile of crap is more valuable than you can imagine. Oh, I like the sound of that, Sal. Kirk says, clapping his hands. The noise reverberates up and down the alleyway. He cringes at the glares he gets from the rest of the crew. Fuck, sorry. Knock off that shit and let's get to work. Sal says as he bends at the knee and picks up the black duffel bag at his feet.

The others bend and pick up their own bags, except for Dodger. He produces a long, thick crowbar and steps to the boarded over back door. He jams the bar's wide teeth under a loose and warped board, then looks back at Sal. We doing this? He asks. We're doing this, Sal says. You sure, Sal? Johnny Wings asks.

We don't have to, you know? Yeah, Johnny, we do. Sal nods to Dodger. Dodger puts all his weight against the crowbar and begins to wrench the board away from the building. The arcade sounds assault, 11-year-old Sal's ears the moment he walks into the arcade. Oh shit! They got mortal combat! Johnny Wings yells and races away from Sal's side. Sal watches his best friend, sprint over to a game surrounded by teenagers, and worm his way through the crowd. Sal doesn't follow. He knows how he will end. The same way it always does,

In seconds, Johnny Wings is being roughly handled from teenager to teenager as he is forcefully ejected from the video game viewing scrum. Let me go! You're a bunch of fucking assholes! Johnny Wings shouts. He tries to throw punches at his manhandlers, but he hasn't hit any sort of growth spurt yet. So his 11-year-old frame is still well under five feet. His punches land on air. I'll fucking kill you, assholes! The teenagers laugh as they toss them in a little. side like a sack of soiled laundry. Then they return their attention to the new, brutally violent video game that has the nation either enraptured or up in arms. Unlike Johnny Wings, Sal hit his growth spurred early. He stands at almost five foot seven, all gangly arms and spindly legs, making him look like a scarecrow that could topple over with only a strong

puff from a slight breeze. But there's power in those gangly arms and spindly legs, which is a good thing for Johnny Wings. Sal sighs and walks toward the crowd, just as Johnny leaps onto the back of one of the shorter teens, and sinks his teeth into the kid's earlobe, tearing it off in one head whipping pull. For a moment, the teen screams of surprise and agony are ignored as the crowd thinks they are just extra sound effects coming from the game they're watching. But when the teen who no longer has matching ears spins around, desperate to get his attacker off of him, One of Johnny Wings' feet clocks a tall teen in the back, knocking the boy into the one in front of him, who then hits the next. Acne-cheeked Domino's Fall.

Hey! One of the crowd shouts, then pauses. What the fuck am I looking at here? One by one, the entire group stops watching the video game and turns to stare at the whirly gig of Johnny Wings and his unfortunate target. As Johnny Wings is being spun and spun and spun, and as the crowd watches, mesmerized by the best of the bestirized by the bizarre scene. Sal casually walks up to the biggest of the teen crowd and punches him solidly in the balls without hesitation. The teen drops to his knees, his hands, cupping his crotch and weezes. Sal pops him in the nose before shoving him over as he turns to the next closest teen and sends

a one-two jab combo into the boy's belly. When that boy doubles over, Sal brings his knee up and smashes the kid's nose into a mushy mess. Out of the corner of his eye, Sal's sees Johnny Wings go flying as his victim manages to dislodge the smaller boy's arms and toss him across the arcade's aisle into a dig-dug game cabinet. But Sal can't focus on Johnny Wings' fate. His attention is on the more than half a dozen angry teenagers coming for him. He gets his fists up like an old-time pugilist, the fighting style his grandfather taught him, and sets his feet ready for the violence coming his way.

What in the holy Christ is going on out here? The voice roars, nearly drowning out the arcade's constant cacophony. The teens freeze for a beat, then scatter his cries of, Oh shit, fucking go! Move, move, move! Usher from their panicked mouths. You too! The voice bellows, as Sal turns to see a mountain of a man holding a baseball bat,

storming toward him and Johnny Wings, who has just picked himself up off the floor while wiping blood from his chin. Sal isn't sure if the blood is Johnny Wings' or the poor kid who's missing a near lobe. We should run, Johnny Wing says. Too late, Sal says. The giant man stomps up to the two 11-year-olds and looms over them. Even with his own height, Sal has to crane his neck to look the man in the face. Oh, you too again, the man says. Hey, Nugie, Sal tries to keep his voice even and calm. How's it going? The baseball bat jabs Sal in the middle of his chest, sending him stumbling back a couple of steps. How's it going? Not so good, kid.

Nuggy Charles says, For you that is, what I tell you do the last time you were in here? No more trouble or else, Johnny Wings replies. Yeah, that. I said that. And guess what? Nuggy leans down and gets right in Johnny Wings' face. Looks like we're at, or else. He must have ate at Rickies. Johnny Wings, waves a hand in front of his nose.

I can smell the garlic mashed potatoes on you. Nuggy grabs Johnny Wings by the front of his shirt and lifts him off his feet. One of his shoes slides off, having come loose during the twirling attack. Sal watches the shoe bounce off the floor. With Johnny Wings dangling a good two feet off the ground, Nuggy turns and looks down at Sal. You gonna be a problem, Salvatore Tumo? Noggi asks, tucking the baseball bat under his arm. Because I got a free hand here.

And I have no problem carrying both of you back to my office. like a couple of babies. Sal glances around the arcade. While no one is looking directly at them, because that'd be pretty stupid, what with Nugie so enraged, the few kids remaining in the arcade are definitely paying close attention to what's going on. Not going to be a problem, Sal says. Nugie eyes him for a moment and then nods. Good. He focuses back on Johnny Wings. What about you, Jonathan Wingham? You gonna be a problem? I might. Johnny Wings replies, smirking.

He gets a headbut for his remark and goes completely slack. Nugie tosses him over his shoulder, then points with the bat to a barely visible door set into the far back wall over by the pinball machines. In my fucking office, no. Sal nods and heads for the door. The men each turn on their heavy-duty flashlights and shine them around the space. The inside of the building is filled with a scent of wet-fifference. fire, drenched timbers, and scorched plastic. But hovering close under that are the smells of mildew and rotten nostalgia.

Sal stares at the burnt-out husks of old arcade games and pinball machines. Look at this place, Kirk says. You all remember when we... Shut it. Sal says. Kirk slouches. Jesus, Sal, Sal. I was just reminiscing...

About what? Sal asks. His voice colder than the alleyway they just left. This fucking place. Plead a lot of games here back in the day. Dodger says and points to the far corner, where an air hockey table is turned on its side and broken in half. My brother could hold his spot for hours on that table.

He'd beat everyone who came for him until Nugie kicked him off the table, so the rest of the kids didn't have to lose to my brother all day. Fucking Nugie. Johnny Wings grumbles under his breath. I hope he's rotting in his grave. Sal gives Johnny Wings a hard stare. What? You know what.

Sal walks off deeper into the old arcade. Come on. The rest look at each other before following. Johnny Wings lags behind, his eyes studying the dark, dank space. Movement catches his attention, and he swings his flashlight toward the far left corner. Three rats scurry out of the light and disappear inside a large hole at the base of the wall. A hole way too big for just rats. J.W.

Move ass, Dodger shouts. Johnny Wings jogs up to the rest of them and nods his head back at the corner. Rats, big ones. There's probably nests all over this place, Kirk says. Yeah, there are, Sal says. Now shut up about the rats. Sal navigates his way around a crushed Space Invaders game cabinet,

a thoroughly toasted joust, and a half-melted super off-road. He sees a collapsed wall where the office door, should be, and he's glad his memory was good enough for him to make the map, because there's no easy way into where he needs to go. He tucks his flashlight under his arm, takes out the map, studies it for a moment, then points at the wall a few feet away. This should be it.

Great, Sal, good to know, Dodger says. Care to tell us exactly what it is? I already did. No, you didn't. All you said was you had a job for us, and it'd be worth the muscle we have to put into it. it, Kirk says. He also said there'd be something more valuable than we can imagine. Johnny Wings rolls his eyes.

Knock off the second guessing you guys. Sal knows what he's talking about. If he says this is a great score, then it's a great score. Yeah, but why wait until now? Kirk asks. If it's such a great score, why haven't we hit this place before? I mean, come on, Sal, I could have used some dough a couple months back when my old lady got laid off. Damn corporations, Dodger growls.

Dodger growls. Bullshit is what that is. And the DA comes after us instead of after those fucking ghouls and those high rises? Complete bullshit. Johnny Wings leans in close to Sal. This is a great score, right, Sal? Because if it ain't, I'd like to get the fuck out of here. ASA fucking P.

Don't exactly have great memories of this place. You hear me? A clatter from the opposite side of the arcade has everyone except for Sal, whirling around, shining their flashlights this way and that way. Sal stays focused on the spot on the wall as he folds the map again and places it back inside his jacket. He picks his duffel up and carries it over to the wall where he sets it down, unzips it, and pulls out a good-sized sledgehammer.

Then he snags a face mask with dual rebreathers and slips that over his mouth and nose. Behind him, Kirk asks, you sure we're alone in here? It's just rats, Dodger replied. Right, J.W.? Probably, Johnny Wings says. Sal ignores their chatter and lifts the sledgehammer. Then he brings it down against the spot on the wall, and a cloud of burnt plaster and drywall mixed with a trillion mold spores explodes into the air.

Everyone else scrambles to get their face masks out of their duffles too. Johnny Wings, with his own sledgehammer in hand and face mask firmly in place, joins Sal and starts in on the wall. The rest are close behind. Picture this. It's late at night. You're scrolling, and suddenly you find exactly what you've been looking for.

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See less cards go abandoned and more sales go with Shopify and their shop pay button. Sign up for your $1 per month trial today at Shopify.com slash DNS. Go to Shopify.com slash DNS. That's Shopify.com slash DNS. The clanging of the pinball machines filters through the wall, down the corridor and into Nugie's office, where he stares at the two boys he's made sit on the ratty couch across from his desk.

He rolls the baseball bat back and full. forth across the desk over and over, not saying a word. Johnny Wings, rubs his forehead, and the giant goose egg forming there. He blinks a few times and his eyes focus on the huge man. Noog! Johnny Wings starts to say, but shuts up when Sal punches his leg. Smart choice, Nuggy says, stealing the bouts rolling as he stares directly at Sal. But you're the bright one in your crowd, ain't you?

Salvatore Tumo. Brighter than this tiny shit squirt here, that's for sure. And who else do you hang around with? I've seen you with the McHenry Kid. Oh, and that one they called Dodger, because he's their shit pickpocket. How many times has he been nipped by the gops? Six, seven. Kid hasn't even grown as dark and curleys, and he's seen more time than I have.

Sal doesn't say anything. Nugie grins. You two haven't been de Juvie. yet have you? Nugie asks. Johnny Wings shakes his head, then groans. Sal nods. Which is it? You have or you haven't? Go ahead and say it. I can't tell your answers from those spastic headbobs. No, sir. Johnny Wings says quietly. Not yet. Sal says. Not yet? Not yet, he says. Nugie laughs hard. Listen to this fucking kid. Not yet. Jesus. There's a knock at the office door.

Yeah? Nugie calls out. The door opens, and a man almost as wide as Nugie is tall, waddles into the room. You won't believe what I just got off of. We got guests, Georgie. Nuggy interrupts and nods at the couch. Georgie swivels awkwardly and glars down at the two boys. What we got here?

Thieves? Nah, not thieves. Just a couple of brawlers. Nugie responds. These two? I can tell you. see the tall, skinny one baby. But the little guy? Who's he brawling with? One of them stuffed penguins in the claw machine? I can take your fat ass any day, Lardo. Johnny Wings snaps.

Sal sighs and looks down at his shoes. Oh shit. The mouth on this little fuck. Georgeie laughs. Better watch out, you fucking tiny turd. Or your ass is going to get acquainted with my fucking foot. What you got for me, Georgie? Nugie asks. Oh right. Yeah. Georgie pulls a thick envelope out of his back pocket, then a second fat envelope from a pocket inside his jacket. He tosses both onto Nugie's desk. Nugie's eyes go wide as he picks up one envelope, thumbs through the cash inside, picks up the second, thumbs those bills as well, then leans back in his chair. The Dominican? He never saw me coming. George sneers at Johnny Wings.

Just like your ass will never see my foot coming. Coming. Leave the kid alone, Georgie. You scare him too much. And he's likely to piss on my couch. Wouldn't be the worst bodily fluid on that couch. I'm just saying. You can just say your fat ass out of here. Aw, don't be like that, Nugues. Nugie grimaces the nods. You done good, Georgie. He holds up the baseball bat before Georgie can respond. As long as we don't get no blowback from the Dominicans. Can't see why we would. replies. His eyes on the bat as Nuggy waves it in the air. No one saw me, I swear. They're gonna go looking. Yeah, well, let them look. They ain't gonna find

nothing. I threw the body in the dumpster and called our friend. The bat stops waving. Nugie closes his eyes. Shit, Nugues, sorry, Georgie says, then glances at the boys. Ain't me you should be saying sorry to. Nugie responds before aiming the baseball bat at the boys. It's those two who are going to pay the price. Say sorry to them. We didn't hear a fucking thing, Sal says. No, sir, we didn't hear shit. Johnny Wings adds. Shut up, Johnny. Sal orders. Johnny nods and goes quiet.

Here's the problem, boys. Nuggy stands up, bat still in hand. You say you won't say shit. But how can you know that? You're just kids. Youngsters. You have no idea what you will or won't do. especially under pressure. I ain't no snitch, Sal looks over at Georgie. I know how to keep my mouth shut.

What's that mean, you little fuck? Georgie snaps and takes a step towards Sal. No, Georgie, back off. I'll handle these two myself. You sure? I got a mostly free afternoon. Our guy is probably still at the dump. Wouldn't take but 45 minutes.

What wouldn't take 45 minutes? Johnny Wings asks, his voice filling with panic. Killing us? Dumping our bodies? Georgie shrugs. Johnny Wings grabs Sal's arm. Oh, fuck, Sal. Tell them we won't talk. Tell them how we're neighborhood kids and how it all works.

Come on, Sal, tell them. Tell them. You just did. Sal plucks Johnny Wings his fingers from their grip around his bicep. And I don't think they care. I sure as fuck don't. Georgie pulls out a switchblade. I'll cut you right here, right now.

And fuck up my beautiful couch. Noogie sighs. I got this, Georgie. But do me a favor, will you? You bet, Nuggs. Tell that nephew of mine running the front out there to give last call and kick everyone out in the next 30 minutes.

Which one is your nephew again? The kid with all the piercings and dyed black hair. That one? He's your nephew? No offense, Nuggs. But the kid makes me want to kick his ass every time I see him. Same, Georgie. But he's my younger sister's boy.

So what you're going to do? I suppose. Georgie glares at the boys on the couch. See what fighting gets you? Should have kept your hands to yourselves. And you should have kept your trap shut. Sal snaps. So thanks for that asshole.

Georgie lunges at the boy. Georgie, knock it the fuck off. Nugie shouts and points at the office door. Get the fuck out. Tell my nephew to close the place down. Shit, Nugues, sorry. Georgie says as he backs off and slowly folds. his switchblade, stuffing the knife in his front pocket.

You want me to stick around? Did I ask you to stick around? You got two of them here. Maybe you need an extra guy. He told you to get the fuck out, Sal says. So get the fuck out. I swear to Christ on a cracker, I'm gonna. Georgie starts.

But the loud whack of the baseball bat on the desk shuts him right up. Go, Georgie. I'll call you later. Yeah, sure. Okay, Nugues. Talk to you later. Georgie glares at Sal as he leaves the office. Once he's gone, Nugie stretches, making sure the boys can see the pistol tucked into his waistband.

He points the bat at the door. Let's go for a walk, boys. I'd rather go home, Sal says. Yeah, me too. Johnny Wings agrees. Shit, Nugie, we're a real sorry. The fucking sorriest. We promise no more fighting, and we'll keep our mouths shut about any extra business we may have heard.

Nugie shakes his head. I sure am sorry it's come to this, boys. I wish there was a way out for you, too. But there's only one way to make sure you keep your mouths shut. Oh, fuck! Johnny Wings bursts into tears. Jesus Christ, Nugie says and glars at Sal. You're going to bawl like a baby Salvatore?

Or you're going to take this like a man? I ain't dying today, Nugie, Sal states. Nugie raises an eyebrow. That's so. You think you can take me? Because if you try and fail, I'll fucking not only kill you two little shit, but I'll have some guys pay a visit to each of you's houses, and maybe those guys will get a little friendly with your moms

before they slash their throats. How's that sound? Sounds like you can't do the dirty work yourself. Nugie blinks at the boy for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. Fucking hell, kid. You are something. I'd put you on the fucking. fucking payroll if you still had a future.

His laughing stops. But you don't. Now, get your fucking asses up and let's go. Where are we going? What do you fucking care? Do you really give a shit where this all ends up? Just curious. Damn, you are something, Salvatore, Tumo.

He points the bat at the still crying Johnny Wings. Not like this blubbering sissy. Sal stands up and grabs Johnny Wings by the arm. I ain't dying today, Saul repeats. Jesus Christ, kid. You really got balls on you for an 11-year-old. This pains me to do as much as it'll pain your parents when they wonder where you are.

What's to stop us from running? You can't control both of us, Snooky. You aren't using your head. I know where you live, kid. I know where the crybaby lives. Yeah, maybe you do run. Maybe you do get away. Better idea than trying to fight me, I'll give you that.

But remember what I said about your mothers if you do try to take you. take me on. I'll make sure every single member of your family and extended family is cut up into little pieces while they're still fucking alive. You want that? You want to watch as I chop your ma up? You want to watch while I chop your little sister up? That would you want, kid? I want to go home. Jogh-fucking shit. Nugie smacks the bat against his leg, making both boys jump. Now stand up like men and let's go. I don't have all fucking day. The manager breaks through the wall first, and the men all set their sledgehammers aside to peer in through the large hole. Shit, is that like a secret passageway?

Kirk asks. Something like that, Sal says. He shines his flashlight into the long corridor behind the wall. One way, the corridor stretches the entire length of the arcade's wall, ending in a pile of rubble. The other way is a vault door, closed and locked. Fuck. We're short a few feet. A clang and rattle from behind makes everyone except for Sal spin around.

Sal, I don't like this, Johnny Wings says. We shouldn't be here. I need it to stop, Johnny, Sal says. It has to stop. Stop. What has to stop? Johnny Wings asks. Guys, I don't think we're alone, Dodger says. Something's in here with us, and it ain't just rats?

Sal, answer me. Johnny Wings says. grabbing his friend by the shoulder. What has to stop? The nightmares, the deaths, the curse. Oh, fuck. This isn't about the money. No, it's about the money.

Bullshit, Sal. This is about what Nugie said that day, isn't it? I'm right, yeah? Johnny Wings puts both hands on top of his head and turns slowly in a circle. Fuck, Sal. People say all kinds of things when they're desperate. You know that.

It came true, Johnny. You know it did. Fuck, man, that's all just coincidence. Shitty, awful coincidence. But still, hey guys, this shit ain't cool, Kirk says. Dodger's right. There's something in here with us. Yeah, I know, Sal says. What?

Dodger asks, turning his flashlight on Sal. Get that the fuck out of my face. Dodger aims the beam to the side, but keeps his eyes on Sal. What the fuck do you mean, you know? Know what? What the fuck is in here with us? Not what? Who? Okay.

Who the fuck is in here with us? Could you think? Sal sneers. Fucking Nugie Charles. God damn it! Johnny Wings whispers. Once they leave the office, instead of walking back out into the arcade,

Nugie steers the boys to the left to an almost imperceptible door. I gotta drop off these envelopes. Then we'll head out back and take care of business, Nugie says, tossing a set of keys to Sal. Open it. Use the key with the blue plastic on it. Sal finds the keys and unlocks the door.

In you go. Nugi gives us still crying Johnny Wings a hard shove in the back with the baseball bat. Fucking move, Sissy. Come on. Sal says and takes Johnny Wings by the arm, walking him through the door and into a long corridor. We can do this. I don't want to fucking die, Sal.

Johnny Wings, sobs. I want to be a shock, Jock, DJ. when I grow up. I got plans, Sal. Bucking shut up and move. Nugie jams the baseball bat between Sal's shoulder blades. You want me to make a call and have someone visit your mom's today? Fuck off. Sal drags Johnny wings by the arm down the corridor.

He can't walk as fast. His legs are shorter. Damn, kid. You calling your best friend a shorty on the last day of his life? That's cold. Sal doesn't respond. Just keeps himself. and Johnny Wings moving. On the opposite side of the wall, the arcades bleeps and boops and dings and

rings and groans and explosions and bells and whistles start to quiet down. Georgie did his fucking ass, Nugie says. Well, miracles never cease. He's going to turn on you, Sal says. You can see it in his beady fucking eyes. You think I don't know that kid? Nugie laughs. That fat fuck has been skimming off me for years. As soon as he gets a chance, he'll take his shot. I know that. Then why keep him around? Because he fucking earns. I can deal with his duplicitous bullshit, as long as he brings me fat envelopes like he did today. All that money won't do you any good if you're dead. George, you might try to take me out, but he'll fail. The guy may earn, but he's a fucking idiot. I ain't worried about him putting two in

the back of my head. As much as I'm worried he'll get nicked and turn rat. Then let me take care of him. Nugie stops. Hold the fuck up. What'd you just say? Sal stops and turns around. I said I'll take care of him. You let us go.

And I promise I'll be the one to put two in the back of his head when the time is right. He'll never see me coming. Fucking hell. Nugie shakes his head. The youth these days. Listen to you in your tough guy mouth. You? An 11-year-old kid?

You'll take out Georgie. Bigmits? Like I said before, you got some balls. What can I say? I'm an early bloomer. Johnny Wings, sniffles as he stands behind Sal. Nugie points the bat at him. I wish I could, kid. You got a lot of promise, and I hate to waste it. But your friend here will crack by Sunday, and then I'll have to go to all that trouble of killing both of your families. It just doesn't make sense. Too bad, really. I tried, Sal shrugs. He turns around and gives Johnny Wings a shove. Keep going, Johnny. Let's get this over with.

I don't want to get this over with Sal. I want to fucking go home. That ain't happening, Johnny. Sorry. Listen to your friend, cry baby, sissy boy. No way out of this for you. Johnny Wings sucks back a few sobs, then nods. He turns and lets Sal push him down the corridor. When they reach the vault door, Nugie shoves them aside. Stand against that wall there. Move a fucking inch, and I'll bash one of your brains in.

Then make the ones still alive eat that shit. You fucking hear me. We're staying put. Sal drags Johnny Wings with him, so their backs are against the wall next to the vault. The arcade noises can still be heard, and Sal stares at the wall opposite him and Johnny Wings. Strange place for a vault, Sal says. Shut the fuck up, Nugie snaps, tucking the baby.

tucking the baseball bat under his arm as he works the vault's huge dial back and forth. I need to concentrate. Nugie doesn't even bother to block the boys from seeing the combination. It's not that there's any expectation they can ever use it. Sal leans his head back against the wall, but watches closely. Damn thing, Nugie mutters. Johnny Wings bumps Sal with his elbow and looks down the way they just came. Georgie Bigmits is walking slowly toward them.

He smiles at the kids as he pulls a pistol from out of his jacket. There we fucking go, Nugie says as he finishes with the combination and spins the large wheel on the vault door. He yanks hard, and the door slowly swings open. Pulling the two envelopes of cash out of his jacket pocket, he grins over at the boys. The secret I learned is to never share the combination with no one. All it takes is one person shooting off their mouth,

and the next thing you know, everything you've worked for. Four's gone. Fuck that. The door swings wide, and Sal gets a good long look at the walls of shelving, holding nothing but bundled cash. In the middle of the vault is a stainless steel table with tray after tray of gold and jewels and luxury watches. Newgy shakes the envelopes at the boys. You too good a had a future. Too bad Georgie fucked it all up for you. Too bad you're such a selfish, greedy fuck Nugues, Georgie says, raising the pistol. You ain't got the split right since the day you took over, taking it all for yourself.

Gonna fix that right now. What the fuck, Georgie? You on drugs or something? What that fucking? The gunshot is deafening in the enclosed space, and Johnny Wings slaps his hands to his ears as he and Sal drop and crouch on the floor. Nugie stands there, staring at Georgie. Then he slowly looks down at his belly and the red bloom spreading across his shirt.

You motherfucker! Nugie drops the envelopes from his hands and grabs the baseball bat, still tucked under his arm. Another shot rings out just as Nugie throws the bat at Georgie's head. The fat man easily dodges out of the way and hurries toward Nugie as fast as his heavy legs can carry him. You think I don't know you'll come for me tonight, Nugues? Nugie falls to his knees. I fucked up, and everyone knows that Nugie Charles don't forgive fuck-ups. You stupid fucking.

Moron. Nugie says between gasps as blood runs from the wound in his belly, as well as a wound in his left thigh and one in his right shoulder. I wasn't gonna do shit. Yet, Sal says. Nugie's eyes flare red. You shut the fuck up. Yet? Yeah, I thought so, Georgie says, getting closer to Nugie and the boys. So, maybe not tonight, but you'll come for me soon. Nugie groans. Kid, you get me out of this shit, and I'll set you up for life. Won't do me any good if I'm dead, Sal replies. That's what I'm fucking saying, Nugie gasps and shudders. He pulls a pistol out of his waistband, but his hand is shaking so hard that he fumbles and drops it.

Nugie, stares hard at Sal. Take this and do what has to be done, and you and your sissy friend live. He won't let you live, Georgie says. He stops in front of Nugie and places the pistol to the man's forehead. Only way to live is for this motherfucker to... With a primal scream nearly ripping his throat apart, Johnny Wings lunges at Nugie's fallen pistol, grabbing it up in both hands as he collides with the huge man's side.

Bang! Georgie stumbles back a foot or two. You little shit! He says, seeing his own blood bloom across his chest. You fucking little shit! Sal jumps to his feet, Races to the throne baseball bat, picks it up, and sprints straight for Georgie as the fat man aims his pistol at Johnny Wings his head. Fuck you!

Sal roars, swinging the bat with all of his gangly strength. The thick, wet thud is almost as loud as the previous gunshot. Georgie drops to his knees. His face, only a few inches from Nugge's. You are such a fuck up, Nugie says. Sal swings again, clocking Georgie and the temple, sending the fat man. man falling onto his side. Sal lifts the bat over his head, then brings it down again and again until Georgie's head is nothing but pulp.

Fucking hell, kid! Great job! Nugie gasps. Now, help me up and get me back to my office. I can call a doctor and... It sounds like a coconut cracking open when the bat slams into the top of Nugie's skull. The man's eyes roll up into his head and he collapses, his torso draping over Georgie's corpse. Give me the gun, Johnny. Sal holds out his hand. Come on, you'll fucking shoot yourself or me with that damn thing.

With no hesitation, Johnny Wings gives Sal the gun. Sal tosses it inside the vault. Then he retrieves Georgie's gun and tosses that in too, followed by the baseball bat. Come on, help me drag them inside, Sal says.

He snaps his fingers when Johnny Wings doesn't move. Johnny, fucking help me! Johnny Wings, his eyes locked onto the blood pooling around both of the men, finally meets Sal's eye. Why? Because if they are found here, then people way more dangerous than Nugie will start asking questions. If they disappear, there'll still be questions, but no bodies. Eventually, it'll all go away. Won't someone come look in the vault? Nugie said, only he knows the combo. Do you believe that? Do you mean, do I believe that Nugie didn't trust any of his guys with his fortune?

Yeah, I believe that. Good point. Johnny Wings stares at the bodies. Fuck! Grab Nugie's arm. We'll pull him off, Georgie, and drag him inside. Johnny Wings nods, grabs an arm, and the two boys awkwardly managed to get Nugie's body into the vault.

Fuck me! Johnny Wings says. Look at all of this cash! Don't fucking touch anything, Sal snaps. We don't know where this cash came from. So? So? It could be from a bank robbery.

They log the serial numbers. You take that and spend it, and we'll have feds on us in no time. Sal, we could take care of our families for life with this shit. Or we can get them killed or thrown in prison. Damn it. Let's get Georgie in here, too. The boys leave the vault and wrangle Georgie's body inside, setting it next to Nugis. Now what?

Johnny Wings asks. Now we get the fuck out of here and never talk about. this ever. How do we not talk about something like this? We killed two men and you're locking them in a fucking vault, Sal. One. Nugie whispers. Killed. Johnny Wings exclaims. What do we do? Take it. Nuggy mumbles as he tries to sit up. He fails and takes a few breaths before saying, fuck off, Sal says, and walks out of the vault, dragging Johnny Wings with him. Kid, come back. Nugie tries to shout.

He ends up coughing and coughing his blood, sprays from between his lips. No, Sal says and grabs onto the edge of the vault door. Then fucking kill me. Don't leave me here to die. No, Sal says again. Johnny, help me with this door. I swear to fucking God

that if you leave me in here, I'll fucking haunt you until you die. I'll haunt your fucking. fucking family. Only thing you'll be haunting is this vault, Sal says. Johnny Wings grabs the vault's door too, and the boys managed to get it swinging shut.

I fucking curse you, you little fucking cock sucker. I fucking curse you. The vault door slams closed, and Nugie's screams are cut off instantly. Jesus Christ, Sal, what'd we just do? Survive.