Castor, Virginia, USA
There was one city, seven territories, and twenty-two neighborhoods. A city, a world of its own, comprised of 389,717 people. Everyone lived by different laws, but we all followed the same two. You don’t ask questions. You don’t give answers. That is our reality.
There was a time it wasn't like that; A time before my family immigrated. You see, it all started in the mid-1700s. After another bloody war between the Scots and the English, a bunch of Scots immigrated to America. They settled in the colonies and even created some of their own. One such colony became known as New Aberdeen. Not long afterward, some Dutch moved next door and founded First Ward. Some more people would come into the area, but Castor was not a city until the 1850s. Then, all of a sudden, Russians, Hungarians, Greeks, Italians, Englishmen, Welsh, and all sorts of Hispanics moved into the area.
See, but these weren't normal people. They all seemed a little different. The Scottish could heal just about anybody, and the Hungarians seemed to be nocturnal and had an odd amount of murderers or hospital workers. They were the nicest people though, always doing blood drives.
It was a haven for magical creatures and people. People say magic used to hum in the air. There were rivalries between groups over the years, but it never involved the persecution of magic.
Then, my grandfather came to town.
He was a Welshman who came to live with his second cousin. No one even took notice as he arrived from Ellis Island up north.
Twenty years later, he ran the streets. His second in command was mayor. His best friend was the chief of police. Through fear, the city was his. People stopped asking the question. The idiots who still asked? They never got answers.
You think the Italian Mafia was a story? You haven't heard anything yet.