Prologue: 1985 New York City, New York
New York. It was not so much as just a city, but it was a world. It was his escape from reality watching the sunset every night and rise every morning. He quickly adapted to the busyness of the city streets and the throngs of people surrounding him.
Eventually, the time came and they told him that there would be money, lots of money and he loved money, he loved the smell of money and he loved running his calloused fingers over the surface of it.
So he said yes with not a waiver of hesitance in his voice. He had to hurt, blackmail, and murder many people.
At the end of the day he sat down on his porch with a glass of expensive whiskey, a cigarette and a Frank Sinatra record, he adjusted his fedora over his mop of curly golden brown hair rubbed his tired dark brown eyes and knew that in the end it would all be worth it. Now, if only he could find the girl prodding his head and the ring he was dying to slide on her finger...
Monday, December 31st, 1984 11:50 pm New York City, New York
Samantha Adeline Wally Conway or as she was known; Sammie, was not feeling good at all. At 25 years old standing at five foot nine inches she figured she could have three or more glasses of champagne at a New Year’s party without wanting to throw up, or pass out.
Her heart was beating out of her chest, her feet ached in the annoying black heels her friends told her to wear although she would have much rather taken her beat up black converse, she couldn’t even walk in the heels instead she waddled and sometimes tripped.
Her head was throbbing, there were beads of sweat rolling down her heavily powdered and made up cheeks The Pointer Sisters “Jump For My Love” was blasting on the cassette players throughout her best friend; Charlotte Vincent's family’s ginormous house.
Charlotte known as Char, had long light blond hair, light skin dusted with freckles and big, doe, dark blue eyes, she was wearing a tight fighting cherry red lace dress with long sleeves.
Samantha’s other best friend Olivia Holland was wearing a off the shoulder white dress she had extremely long, wavy, dark brown hair, the biggest and brightest blue eyes Sammie had ever seen and porcelain skin. They both came and dragged her to the dancing area, which was in reality was the fairly large living room.
Samantha really wished her cousin Amelia-Jane Elizabeth Wally was at the party, but Amelia-Jane also known as Amy detested Char and Olivia so she told her that she hadn’t wanted to go. Suddenly, Samantha felt a sharp pain in her temples.
She grabbed another glass of champagne off of a nearby tray and downed the fizzy drink, taking yet another glass deciding to savor it, in the end she ended up downing it. Sammie didn't know what was wrong with her she drank, but always in “moderation” or at least her idea of moderation and with that she grabbed another glass.
“Sammie? Are you alright?” Char asked lightly tousling the top of Sammie’s damp, curly hair, which was out of place.
“Yeah! I’m going to use the washroom excuse me for a moment.” Sammie replied waving her friend away, and putting her half full champagne glass on the window ledge she was standing by.
“Hurry up! It’s already 11:57!” Olivia-best known as Via, called out over her shoulder. “You have to party while you can Sammie! No one looks back on their life and remembers the nights they got plenty of sleep!” Sammie heard Via and her words of wisdom and her gorgeous loud laugh, but she was concentrating on waddling to the washroom as quickly as the seven inch shoes-of-hell would allow her to.
“Sammie? Are you okay? Want to dance?” Patrick Gunnery, Sammie’s best guy friend from way back in high school asked, she could tell that he was blushing and it wasn’t the body heat radiating off of everyone dancing, he had always had a crush on her, he slid up behind her and grabbed her hips and attempted to press her to his front, but she wrenched away from him feeling the burn of vomit creeping up her esophagus.
She liked him but her heart was like a light switch, whenever he did something embarrassing the light would go off and her feelings would falter she sometimes felt that she liked him because of the affection and attention that he gave her.
“Yep, Pat I’m fine don’t worry about me. Maybe later. Mind if I use the washroom?” She gave a nervous laugh and forced a smile. He looked at her worriedly she walked over to the washroom. Once inside she locked the door and looked in the mirror she sighed, once again massaging her temples, she knew something was wrong but she could not decipher what it was.
Sammie wobbled over to the toilet and sat down on the lid smoothing out her strapless, plain, tight, black dress, then taking off the heels and massaging her feet. Her mother Martha Wally had told her she should wear the heels 'to look less awkward than she already was.'
Sammie had shoulder length, curly golden brown hair she always was teasing it to make it look “bigger” she had her hair blown out and loosely curled for the party. She had dark blue streaks on either side of her head.
Sammie had bright almond shaped hazel eyes that had small flecks of blue, she had freckles along the either sides of her button nose, she loved rock bands and the color black even though most of the girls preferred neon pink and yellow, she also loved red lipstick, she always had her nails painted black and her toes painted either dark blue or a coral color.
She worked at a precinct in downtown Manhattan, she was noted as an administrative assistant but really she was the girl who got coffee for everyone, yet more than anything in the world she wanted to be a detective. She worked alongside the most annoying man on the face of the planet: Daniel Malcolm he was from Brooklyn and had a heavy accent he was also a man that Sammie had always had a schoolgirl crush on.
There was another man that always piqued her interest, she often followed up on him during her ‘free time’ she liked to call him a “mental freak” his name was Tony Fartuchi he was currently somewhere in New Jersey where she hoped he would stay, he was always known sending creepy notes and such.
He was referred to as the hit man who famously and brutally murdered people, then going under the radar, he would leave notes and very small breadcrumb like clues for the authorities, often times they wouldn’t come close to solving the case or even proving that he did murder the victims she got goosebumps at the thought.
Tony Fartuchi was stuff of legend, most of the authorities thought he was a fake, perhaps some doped up man with nothing better to do, but she knew better she had always had a feeling deep down that he was real and that they would meet.
Sammie suddenly scowled thinking of Daniel, even though she would never admit that she had always admired him from afar. Only Patrick, Char and Via knew that, but then again Patrick ignored the fact that she liked Daniel because she was ‘too good for him’.
Suddenly the pain in her temples returned she squeezed her eyes shut and only saw black. After a few minutes the pain in her temples subsided, she stuffed her now swollen and purple feet back into her heels groaning a bit and she wobbled back out to the dancing area.
Her friends didn’t even know, but Samantha Wally Conway was a clairvoyant and she knew that there was something wrong with the vision she was trying to have. Without thinking Sammie grabbed the champagne she had abandoned from the window sill and downed it, the taste was dull and metallic.
With one minute left before midnight Sammie grabbed another glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray, as someone shoved her hard in the shoulder as she walked back to her friends. They all smiled, laughed, and danced a long to “Too Tough to Die” by the Ramones it was a favorite of Sammie’s from their new album, Sammie took a sip of champagne and the countdown began.
“10…” Sammie took another sip,
“9…” and another large gulp, the smell of sweat, cheap floral perfume, makeup, and champagne overcame her senses.
“8…” She downed the rest of the glass, she could hear someone saying something it sounded like screaming and yelling, she desperately wanted it to stop.
“7…” “Sammie! Oh no, Sammie? Are you alright? Common stay with us!” she heard Patrick call out, he seemed so far away.
“6…5…4…” Sammie began to feel faint, everything was happening in slow motion.
“3…” the corners of her vision blackened.
“2…” The crowd seemed like a blurry, slowed down echo that was far away.
“1…” She could feel herself falling and she didn’t know where too and why, and in that moment she wished she told her friends of her clairvoyance.
“Happy New Year!” she heard foggily, she faintly heard an unfamiliar female scream before everything went black as the nail polish adjoined on her fingers.