In the dark undergrounds of New York, Rick Soledad whimpered as he was guided through a luxurious bar. Behind him, a goon walked near him, pressing a gun to his back. Rick was saying every prayer his mama had ever taught him, hoping there would be mercy. But if the tales were true, he would be sleeping with trees with the ravens packing at his corpse. The goon opened the door to a back room and ushered Rick inside. Rick hesitated but another poke in the back by the gun made him step inside.

"Here you are boss. We found him right where you told us," a rough voice said. Rick gulped as he noticed that aside from two burly men, he was face to face with the Don. The Godfather. The Ruler of New York. The man that united the five large families of New York in under a year. The head of the former Corleones family. No one aside from close aids and the consigliere knew what he looked like. However he went by the name Don Corvo Corleone. While his head was hidden in the shadows, Rick could see Corvo's glowing green eyes staring at him.

"Thank you Anthony. Now, Rick. I thought we had a very generous deal. I lend you twenty five big ones and you promised me at least a five grand return profit after you received your cut. However, when it came time to pay up, what did you do?"

Rick flinched as those glowing green eyes seemed to pierce his very soul. Rick trembled and began to sweat bullets out of every pore of his body.

"I gambled it away."

Don Corvo nodded. "Yes you did. A trusted soldato of mine watched and recorded your spending as it was my money. Tsk tsk. I'm very disappointed. Not even a fifth used to buy and sell like a business man. Why Rick? Why must you disappoint yourself like so? I offered you a chance but you gambled it away. Why do you do this?"

"I have a slight gambling problem sir. Please! Give me a little more time. I'll recover the money," Rick pleaded. He flinched as those green eyes narrowed.

"And how do you propose to do that? You know my policy. Peaceful business and investments shall be rewarded while blood on the streets will mean punishments by me. I abhor bloodshed from the innocents as you very well know," Corvo said smoothly. Rick nodded.

"Of course. You are by far merciful and great. But I know of a drug shipment coming in from the harbor by the Irish clans. McHennity sir," Rick said desperately. "Nearly five hundred in solid gold will be on board in the captain's quarters as well as around ten million in arms, drugs, and other things."

Rick's blood froze as chilling laughter filled the air.

"Rick my poor friend. We knew of this months ahead of time. You forget how far my wings spread Rick. Now Vitali, how long till the boat comes?"

"In a few hours sir. We already have the police to arrive an hour late. Plenty of time to remove anything of value," Vitali said in a heavy Russian accent.

"And Sonny, I assume everything is underway? Where the loot will be stored. The routes and the people managing them?"

"Yes Don Corleone. Everything is arranged," Sonny Capone. "All will be taken care of sir. I have my most trusted caporegimes responsible. You have nothing to worry about."

"Good good. I would hate to have to call the ravens again," Don Corvo said absently. Vitali and Sonny exchanged fearful looks. The ravens was the punishment of the highest kind. It was something that every person under Don Corvo feared above all else, even Vitali the Don's personal guard.

Corvo turned to Rick and smiled. "Well Rick considering I am in a happy mood, I will give you a gambling chance."

Thud.

Rick looked down to see a revolver.

"Don Corvo, please have mercy."

"I am Rick. It is a fifty-fifty chance. A mere flip of the coin or in this case, the twist of the revolver," Don Corvo said. "If you are alive, I will give you six months to recover the money. If not. Well, use your imagination."

Rick prayed to God as he twisted the chamber. He set the revolver against his temple and cocked the gun. Rick whispered one last prayer before closing his eyes.

"Amen." Rick pulled the trigger.

Click.

Rick opened his eyes to see that he was still alive. A relieved smile appeared on his face and he crawled to Corvo's feet and kissed it.

"Thank you Don Corleone. You won't regret this. Thank you for your mercy."

"Thank God for that. Keep that revolver on you to remember that next time, it will be loaded with six bullets."

Rick nodded hastily and rushed out of the room, thanking the fates that he survived. Once he settled the debt with Don Corvo, he swore to God that he would be on the straight and narrow. Head out west to open a small Italian diner in the middle of Nebraska. Far away from ravens.


Don Corvo turned to Sonny.

"I assume that our guests have been kept comfortable?"

"Yes sir, they've been brought to Washington Square Park," Sonny said. Corvo smiled.

"Good, let's not keep them waiting."

Sonny nodded and walked with Corvo to his limousine. They quickly arrived to Washington Park and met a couple of soldatos that escorted them to an area of the park. The small group headed to a tree known to the locals as Hangman's Elm. Corvo smiled. He'll make this name famous again.

Tied to the trunk of the tree was a elderly redheaded man, struggling to remove himself from his bonds. Corvo smiled evilly at the struggling Irishman and removed his gag.

"Evening to you Steven MacTarvish. Let's assume you were treated well and we have exchanged pleasantries."

Splat.

Corvo slowly wiped away the spit from his face. Corvo chuckled.

"Well MacTarvish, seeing as I'm pretty much going to recieve the same answer for anything I say, let's just start the ceremony," Corvo said. He turned to the soldatos that accompanied him and made a fist. MacTarvish was hauled up into the tree and handcuffed to several tree limbs, making him spread his arms out. A hook to his belt made sure that he was securely stuck to the tree. MacTarvish struggled fiercely but his bonds were too tight for him to loosen.

"You should have never murdered that messenger MacTarvish. Blood for blood, as the saying goes. You kill one of mine in treachery and I'll destroy everything you have. Your sons, your relatives, your clan. Everything including you," Corvo called.

Corvo reached into his suit and pulled out a whistle. Vitali and Sonny began praying for the poor man's soul as Corvo began to blow on the whistle.

A couple low ranking goons turned to the soldatos confused as to what was happening.

"Sir? What's going on?"

The soldato turned to them with a haunted look in his eyes. "He's summoning the ravens. Watch and never forget what will happen to traitors personally caught by Don Corvo."

Caw. Caw. Caw.

A black cloud descended upon the park, bringing thousands of crows and ravens. They perched on the trees surrounding the elm, staring hungrily at MacTarvish. MacTarvish began to struggle with every ounce of strength to escape. But it was too little, too late. Corvo held the whistle to his mouth again and blew.

Every crow and raven in the park began to peck and claw at MacTarvish, eating his flesh, ripping his clothes, shredding his skin. MacTarvish's gag was soon torn apart and his tortured screams were heard above the cawing and screeching of the thousands of ravens eating him alive. Several of the goons puked in disgust and horror as they watched the birds' frenzied eating. Only Corvo watched in grim satisfaction at the elimination of his last rival. The Irish mob were now under his control. The Chinese families were eliminated. The Russian underground now serve him. And the Five Italian families were his.

Screw Donald Trump. New York belonged to him and to him alone.

Don Corvo Corleone.

And he was only fifteen.