"He rarely sleeps, when I knew him he would sleep for one hour in the safest place he could think of."
"Because when he was a boy, he killed his father, the person that trusted him the most, in his sleep. He expects the same to happen to him one day so takes every precaution against that."
Mustaro sat back in his chair, cradling his phone in his hand. He had been on the phone nearly all night, to Garson these calls seemed a success. Mustaro was a large man, with thick grey hair and a plump, almost generous face. He wore a serious expression now, straining to remember what Zelos had told him when he was a boy.
"He was utterly unstoppable, entirely mad. He had been put through the ringer when he was a boy. When I found him crawling through the city, on the run from wherever he came from he had that look in his eye. He was drenched in blood and craving more. So naturally I put him in the bloodbox."
Garson listened intently, he wasn't as interested in the story as hoping to find a weakness that could be exploited. He turned and checked on the sleeping figure of Vince. Garson sympathised with the poor kid, starts the day any regular boy, ends it on the run and having shot someone.
"Why did he choose here?"
Mustaro checked out the window, he had been routinely doing this every half hour all night. The moon, tired again of watching the horrors of the city was giving way to the sun. He slowly walked and sat back down, rolled some very dry tobacco into any piece of paper he could find and lit it.
"Remember the exodus ten years ago?"
Garson strained to think, he knew what Mustaro meant although he was in no way involved. A mass of the Bloodbox combatants just decided to leave the city, Garson seemed to remember they fled south. Although that was hardly important. He looked up at Mustaro and nodded.
"They ended up where Zelos used to live, on his wedding day. Needless to say they caused trouble and his new bride..." Mustaro stopped there, Garson gathered what happened. After an awkward silence Garson pressed on.
"What happened next?"
"He finally lost it, he told me he killed everyone. I mean everyone. He met me still vowing revenge for causing this city the pain it caused him."
"And he acheived it."
Mustaro laughed, a hearty yet sarcastic laugh. The chuckle turned into a serious scowl.
"Not by a long shot, he wants nothing less than to bring the city to its knees."
There was a knock on the door. Both men sat bolt upright, instinctively drawing their weapons. Garson crept over to his sleeping son and ushered him into a new hiding place as Mustaro walked towards the door, shotgun in hand. Garson held Vince tight and shut his eyes. He could feel the sweat dripping from his head, was this it?
"Ah thank God its you Henry, you brought the boys with you? Excellent!" Mustaro said with loud joy. Garson sighed with relief, it wasn't over after all, in fact it was just beginning.