Vito #3

The streets of New York were quieter than usual, the city's usual hustle and bustle replaced by an eerie stillness. I clutched the bag filled with food and water close to my chest, each step taking me closer to my temporary refuge in the construction site. Keeping a low profile was essential; the fewer people who noticed me, the better.

Most people walked past, their minds occupied with their own lives, barely sparing a glance in my direction. That was good. That was how it needed to be. But one man, leaning casually against a wall, caught my attention. He was reading a newspaper—an oddity at this late hour. The dim light from a nearby streetlamp cast a shadow over his face, but his eyes were locked onto me.

I tried to ignore the unease creeping up my spine, but my instincts screamed at me to take notice. A tattoo peeked from under his sleeve, a small but distinctive mark that triggered alarm bells in my mind. His clothes were heavy, too heavy for such a warm night, and his boots were practical and inelegant, favoring mobility over comfort, clearly out of place with his formal attire.

'How am I noticing all this?' I wondered, my brain cataloging details faster than I could process them. 'And why do these things stand out?'

Suddenly, a voice snapped me back to reality. "Stop thinking and run," it commanded, relaxed and strangely familiar.

I spun around, searching for the source of the voice. My eyes landed on a man in a black suit and a fedora hat, grinning at me from the shadow of a dark alley. Like his voice, his face seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.

"Who are you?" I blurted out, my heart racing.

"Doesn't matter," he replied, his grin widening. "But you need to hurry up." He nodded towards the man with the newspaper, who was now picking up his phone, dialing quickly.

Panic surged through me as the realization hit. The man with the newspaper was a mobster, and he had just made me. My mind raced, weighing my options.

The man in the fedora gestured nonchalantly. "The longer you delay the lesser your chance of getting away."

Without another thought, I bolted in the opposite direction, my bag of supplies bouncing against my side. The sound of my footsteps echoed in the empty streets, mingling with the pounding of my heart. I didn't dare look back, trusting the voice and the urgency it carried.

...

The construction site felt like a desolate sanctuary, a skeletal structure looming against the night sky. I leaned against a cold, unfinished wall, peering down at the street below where gangsters scoured the area, their searchlights cutting through the darkness.

Sliding down the wall, I pulled out a bottle of water, my hands trembling slightly. As the cool liquid soothed my parched throat, my racing heart began to calm. I let out a shaky breath, my thoughts returning to the man in the fedora. 'Who was he? Why did he seem so familiar? And how did he know what I was thinking?'

As if in response to my thoughts, the same familiar voice echoed in the area. "It's because I'm in your head."

Startled, I jerked to the side and nearly dropped my water bottle. There he was, sitting on the ground beside me, the same fedora, the same suit, the same infuriating grin.

I scrambled to my feet, pulling out my gun and pointing it at him. "Who are you? What do you want?" I demanded, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

He didn't flinch. Instead, he chuckled softly. "You already know."

His words threw me off. I frowned, keeping the gun trained on him. "What do you mean I know?"

"Think, John," he said, his grin fading into a more serious expression. "Look closer. You know me. You just haven't realized it yet."

I stared at him, my mind racing. The more I looked, the more familiar he seemed, but I couldn't place him. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. His eyes, his voice, the way he moved—it was like looking in a mirror.

"You're... Vito?" I whispered, lowering the gun slightly. "How is that possible? What the hell are you?"

The man in the fedora—original Vito—shrugged, his grin widening. "Who knows? I might be the ghost of Christmas past, or maybe just a figment of your imagination born out of stress."

I grumbled, feeling a headache coming on. "So now I'm losing my mind. Just great." I sighed, letting the frustration seep out with my breath. "Alright, Vito. What do you want?"

Vito's grin faded into something more serious. "I want my body back," he said, then chuckled. "But that's probably impossible, so I'll settle for helping you survive and become Vito."

I scowled in disgust. "Becoming Vito is the last thing I'd want." I glared at him, still trying to process the absurdity of the situation. "And why would you want to help the guy who took over your body anyway?"

Vito's expression turned a bit darker, his eyes narrowing. "Because, John, I can't stand how badly you've messed up my plans since you took over. Watching you struggle so pathetically is more than I can take."

I scoffed, feeling a mix of anger and disbelief. "Are you talking about the same plans that got you hunted by two gangs and the entire police department?" I shook my head, letting out a bitter laugh. "Waking up in your body is the single biggest misfortune of my life. I wouldn't even be surprised if you told me you have erectile dysfunction."

Vito gave John a strange grin, "Actually..."

My expression instantly went white as I glanced down at my crotch, dread pooling in my stomach. Before I could start to panic, Vito interrupted, chuckling. "Relax, it was just a joke. You're actually quite blessed in that particular area."

Frustration flared in me, and I glared at him. "Very funny. Now hurry up and tell me what you want and fuck off quickly."

Vito's grin softened into something more serious. "I simply want you to think. You know things about this world, things you shouldn't have any right knowing. You can use that knowledge to not only survive but thrive."

I paused, considering his words for a moment. "How the hell am I supposed to do that when almost everyone in the city wants me dead?"

Vito sighed, clearly exasperated. "You can't survive on your own. You need to enlist someone's help."

I gave him a blank look, feeling more lost than ever. "Who would even give me the time of the day without putting a bullet in my head?"

Vito rolled his eyes. "That's something you need to figure out on your own..."

Before I could reply, the sound of footsteps echoed up the stairwell.

Vito's grin returned. "Seems the gangsters have found you again. You know what to do, don't you?"

My heart pounded as I turned toward the stairs on the other side of the floor, the adrenaline surging back through my veins. I grabbed my bag and bolted for another set of stairs, only to freeze at the sound of more footsteps heading toward me.

Panic tightened its grip on me as I realized I was trapped. Again.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, scanning my surroundings for any possible escape route. The unfinished construction site offered little in the way of hiding spots or exits. I was cornered, and the gangsters were closing in.

Desperation fueled my movements as I sprinted toward the highest floor, hoping against hope that I could find some way out. The gangsters were relentless, their shouts and footsteps growing louder behind me.

I reached the top floor, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The city sprawled out below me, a dizzying drop that offered no salvation. I turned to face the gangsters, who were now only a few feet away, their guns drawn and eyes filled with murderous intent.

"End of the line, Vito," one of them sneered, raising his weapon.

I backed up until I was pressed against the edge of the building, my mind racing for any possible way out.

Vito appeared beside me, looking down at the ground "End of the line indeed. Unless you grew a pair of wings after taking over my body, I don't see you running away this time."

My eyes darted to the pistol hidden in my jacket, but Vito's voice made me reconsider. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. The best you could hope for is to kill one or two before they gun you down... might as well surrender."

I reached the top floor, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The city sprawled out below me, a dizzying drop that offered no salvation. I turned to face the gangsters, who were now only a few feet away, their guns drawn and eyes filled with murderous intent.

"End of the line, Vito," one of them sneered, raising his weapon.

I backed up until I was pressed against the edge of the building, my mind racing for any possible way out. Panic surged through me, clouding my thoughts.

Vito appeared beside me, looking down at the ground with a grim expression. "End of the line indeed. Unless you grew a pair of wings after taking over my body, I don't see you making a clean escape this time."

My eyes darted to the pistol hidden in my jacket. Maybe I could take a few of them with me, but Vito's voice interrupted my thoughts. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. The best you could hope for is to kill one or two before they gun you down... might as well surrender."

I glanced at the gangsters, their smirks growing wider as they closed in. Surrendering meant torture, a slow death, or being drowned in some river with my feet encased in a cement block. A quick death seemed like a better option.

I've already lived once, and although this second life of mine was rather short, death didn't seem all that frightening to me, having experienced it once. I just hoped that if there was a next time, I wouldn't have to be stuck in some lunatic's body again.

"Fuck this," I muttered, and without another thought, I jumped.

As I fell, my eyes were suddenly blinded by a brilliant white light. It enveloped me, obliterating the city below and the sensation of falling. The world around me disappeared into that blinding whiteness, a void of pure light that consumed everything. I felt weightless, as if suspended in time, my senses overwhelmed by the brightness. I braced for impact, expecting the crushing pain of hitting the ground, but instead, a strange calmness washed over me.

The light began to fade, gradually softening from blinding white to a warm, gentle glow. The roaring wind in my ears ceased, replaced by an almost tangible silence.

I opened my eyes, squinting against the lingering brightness, and found myself standing on solid ground. The transition was so abrupt, so surreal, that I could hardly comprehend it.

The light dissipated, revealing a vast green plateau stretching out before me, dotted by ruins of ancient buildings. The grass was soft under my feet, a stark contrast to the hard concrete I had expected to meet.

The air was fresh and clean, carrying the sweet scent of wildflowers and a faint hint of earth. The sky above was a perfect, cloudless blue, the sun casting a gentle, golden light over the landscape.

I looked around, stunned and disoriented. The city, the gangsters, the construction site—all of it was gone, replaced by this serene, almost dreamlike setting. It was as if I had been transported to an entirely different world.

"What the hell...?" I whispered, my heart still pounding from the fall. The adrenaline still coursed through my veins, leaving me shaky and breathless.

...

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