The Kansas King


1. Family, Pies and Mafia Guys

November 2, 1983 some son of a bitch made their way into my house, the place me and my family rest our heads, where I eat, watch over my brother. They came in the dead of night, my father drunk and asleep in the living room the tv on. They left him alone, they weren't interested in him, they wanted him to hurt, to feel pain but not what they were gonna dish out, they wanted him to feel something much worse. They made their way past my bedroom, they could've killed me hurt me but they never even glanced my way. They made it past my mother's room but cracked the door open ever so slightly so she could get there quickly, like a first responder. Pictures on the walls made no difference to these sick bastards they didn't care that they were about to ruin my family, ruin me and my brother's lives. they had a job to do and they were gonna see it through, they had no fucking emotions, feelings of guilt or regret.


One held a torch, another held gas, another held a knife. They entered my six month old brothers room closing the door ever so lightly, the one with the knife went over to my brothers bed and touched my brother, put his filthy hands on his forehead and hushed him rocking the crib. The one with the gas began to pour it on the walls, in the corners, under the crib. The one with the torch stood by, as the help, as the grip. Something I don't know what made my mother wake up.


She called out my father's name she looked next to her where my father should have been instead of sitting down stairs drowning out the sound of intruders with the baseball game and two cases of Corona. She sighed and got out of bed, her golden blonde hair falling down her shoulders and her white nightgown fluttering behind her. I loved my mother, she was beautiful and her smile was radiant.

She saw a figure in Sam's nursery so she assumed it was John, "John, does Sammy need to be fed?"

The figure shook his head and hushed her, she closed the door. Unaware that two more figures wait behind the door in the shadows. She went downstairs yawning. She saw the Tv on, confused, she bent over and looked and saw my father sitting there drunk, passed out. I dont know what was going through her head but she bolted up the stairs, threw open the door as the man with the gas jumped out the window, two stories. "SAM!" My mother yelled, she lunged for her baby, her second born, the light in her life. The man with the torch took Sammy from the bastard with the knife and charged my mother, knife at the ready.

My father finally was drawn out of that drunken slumber jumped up from his reclined palace of stains and regret and booze.

"Mary?! Honey?!" Silence.

He bolted up the stairs and into the only open door in the house. He's a fucking genius, only door open why not just barge right in. 

My mother was on the floor bleeding out, my little brother on the floor crying for his mother and for me, his big brother. The man with knife jumped out the window taking the  murder weapon with him the man with the torch lit it and dropped it jumping out the window.

Within seconds the nursery was consumed with flames. My mother was already dead. By that time I had awoken. I stood in the hallway and watched the flames consume her body and my father grab Sam and thrust him in my arms yelling at me.

"Take Sammy and run! RUN!"

Guess what I did?

I ran.

November 2, 1983. A date that will forever be seared into my brain. How do I know all this shit you might ask, well as it turns out I just found out all the missing pieces today, because I have those three sons of bitches kneeling in front of me beaten bloody.

Yea, kneeling. I rule the state of Kansas. Some people call me Big D, Your Majesty, Green Eyes, Lady Killer. Tons of others that I have no interest listing.

The only name that matters is the one that strikes fear into people's hearts.

Heh, they are begging for mercy.

Should I give it to them?

Na they deserve to suffer, feel the emotion dread and fear.

They deserve hell, No wait that would be too good for them.

i know exactly what they deserve.

"Take them out back in the shed cut off their legs and take their eyes. I want them to suffer in eternal motherfucking darkness.

I love the sound of their screams. The smell of hard scotch pulled me out of my angered trance. I put the cold glass to my lips and the icy refreshing liquid made a feeling of calmness wash over me, I closed my eyes .

"Yo King of Kansas!"

I cracked a smirk.

"Yes, Garth?"

King of Kansas leader of the Kansas Kings.

The biggest, baddest, mafia gang in Kansas.

Thats the name that matters.

"Sam is in trouble again." I wiped my face. "LPD is on scene, Sam is the leading detective but this one isn't good Dean."

Sighing, I got up grabbing my hat and stepped down from my throne-it's a legit throne-and walked to the door patting Garth on the shoulder.

"Thanks Garth your payment is on the counter" I gestured to the two kilos of cocaine on the counter. He nodded his thanks and like a rat he scurried to grab his cheese and bolted.

"Come on boys we got a homicide to solve!" Laughing I opened the doors of my Pie shop and walked out.

Thats right, Lawrence's Pies is mine and everyone knows it, it's the best damn pie shop in all of Kansas. Free Pie's for me. Makes any man happy. I got into my black 1967 chevy impala and sat there for a minute smelling the old car smells a smile grew on my face. I started baby up. My men got into their giant black durangos behind me. I preferred to drive alone.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, what have you gotten yourself into this time."

I put it in drive and headed to where ever I heard the sirens.

My title is King of Kansas

My occupation is leader of the biggest Mafia gang in all of Kansas

My role is being a big brother to Sammy, Sam Winchester.

My name is Dean Winchester.

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