Author Archive: Lordlamo

#1 Dirk De Luca

A word on Dirk from those close to him

Dirk’s, well Dirk. He’s a modern day Aladdin mate, diamond in the rough, but he’s from the midlands. I first met Dirk about 13 years back, he was about 14 then I think; aye there about. He’s a mob boy, born and raised, always been with the De Lucas. They attached him to the boss’s son, Mica, as sort of a little playmate at first but he eventually wanted to a bit for the family.

So somebody, its hazy on if it was Mica or his pops or Zappa; but one of them, tossed Dirk a knife one day and the lad all but fell in love with it. He looked at it as if somebody had given him a winning lottery ticket. He took to it like a bloody fish to water. He seemed to surround himself with all things sharp after that. It was a bit queer in all honesty, you would walk into a room and there would be little Dirk juggling kitchen knives as if it was like a normal thing to do.

The Boss, he saw a talent that needed to be polished, started talking to Dirk and seeing if he wanted like a future in the family, not that he wasn’t getting a future but it was more like a job interview. He figured he would just make Dirk into a bodyguard for Mica. The lads bloody loved the idea, the pair of them were inseparable and heck Mica thought turning Dirk into a bad ass would be grand.

Dirk went walkies.

Nobody heard anything from the boy for about years then he shows up on his 18th birthday looking like he’d been running from a pack of dogs for all of those 4 years. That old twinkle in his blue eyes was long gone, now he just seemed to stare at you, hell he bloody stares through you, with these cold dead eyes. He was still all smiles, pearliest of whites that lad. Somebody had shaved him bald too that was the second thing we all noticed after seeing his eyes. He used to have, like, this thick blond mop of hair that kept falling over his face.

So Dirk shows up again and everyone is happy as can be, Mica damn near broke him in half when he came through the door. That’s when he tells us the boss had sent him off to live with Serge, an old enforcer, and well the gruff old bugger went through some things with him.

Dirk wouldn’t tell us what he did those years but if Serge was involved, personally, I don’t want to know.

Now everybody is shuttled off to the pub to celebrate Dirks return and his 18^th, lads entitled to buy us all a round and that. We get there and everything’s fantastic for the first hour or so then it happens.

Some lad hops up and screams something about his brother being dumped in a river, or a compactor or a furnace, something like that. He jumps for Mica and everyone goes to stop him.

Dirk grabs the lad in mid air and slams him to the floor, snapping a table in two as he does. There’s cutlery all over the bloody shop and as it flies through the air, a single lithe limb darts among the silver and snaps back into place like it was a rubber band. We all hear this sound like a whistle going off and the lad starts gurgling.

Dirks just gone and slashed the blighters’ neck.

He leaves him there on the ground, staining his shoes, and he checks Micas alright. Soon as he says “He’s fine” Dirk laughs for a bit and returns to his pint. Then he spits out; can’t hold his liquor Dirk.

That’s him now. He looks after Mica better than an entire squad of lads. He just needs something sharp about him.

Don’t even need to be sharp sometimes. I saw him kill a bloke with a plastic knife from a kids party, slap the mans throat and when he opens up gasping for air Dirk jammed the thing in his throat and snapped it in two. Gave him another quick tap and he started chocking to death on his own vomit and a Scream knife.

Seen him off a bloke with a pair of knitting needles and a cufflink once, it was a [explicit] sight to behold. He’s a machine near about. He sits there idling away until he gets told to do something and then he does it.

He’s told to stop a train, he would stop that train. He gets told to kill a bloke, blokes dead.

The boss said “Anything that lad touches turns Vorpal.” I’ve no clue what vorpal means but I hazard that it means really bloody deadly.