[i]	[h2]Valentino Ricci[/h2][/i]


	Valentino looked out the window as rain droplets trailed back, converging like a river. As the train began its deceleration some of the locals looked up due to the mild squeal of metal on metal. It was strange, their eyes seemed locked onto his car, throwing daggers at him. Something about this town really gave him the heebie jeebies, the overcast skies dampened the mood making everything around have a touch of malevolence. The train halts to a stop and the conductor hurries everyone off the train. Val gets shoulder checked by some miscreant, briefly he thinks to give that unkind gentleman the what for. Yet he just grits his teeth, [i]"Probably best to not rock the boat"[/i] he thinks as he grabs his hat. 

	The wind chill hit Val like a brick, it's cold back in Chicago, but something about this place seems to have an extra nip in the air. He reaches into his overcoat and beside the Berreta was the folded up letter, "Alright 1111 South Curlew Drive, time to get ankling." Eyes continued to drill into the back of Val's head as he began walking looking for a street sign. At the next corner a scrawny kid, who couldn't be much older than ten, was yelling at the corner that he has newspaper for sale. Val approaches, his hat cocked sideways, "Hey kid how much for a newspaper?" 

	"That'll be two cents sir!" Despite the smile, his eyes seemed to tell a different story. They were big and surrounded by dark bags, yet something about them seemed off. Grabbing a dime from his pocket Val asks, 
	
	"Maybe you know where 1111 South Curlew drive is?" He flashes the Mercury headed coin and tosses it over before the newspaper boy hesitantly looks around. 

	" Go down three streets and take a right, you won't miss it." Val starts to walk forward when he felt a small, tight grip on his wrist. " Don't go looking for trouble around here." Something about the kid seemed serious, [i]"Maybe I should stay on guard."[/i] Val pondered for a split second, 

"I can take care of myself kid." The boy released his grip and began his newspaper spiel again. Val walks on, sliding his hand into his jacket for his pack of smokes and a match. With a fluid motion he lights his cigarette and drops the match, the smoke filling his lungs helped calm him. [i]"What kind of place has some kid warning me?"[/i] he wonders to himself as he reaches the third street and takes the right. Around the corner a man is in front of the house, the door looking to be in poor shape. [i]"This debt was already getting interesting." [/i] He thought as he approached the man, moving his gun to his outer pocket.