Dancing With The Devil

By John Henry Hardy

What makes "Dancing With The Devil" a unique story is that it depicts the evils that have ensnared human beings throughout history. Particularly, the atrocities committed by the souls of those who hold the power of life and death over others, as well as the sins of ordinary people. Mankind never seems to learn, and throu

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Henry Hardy
• Release date: Sep 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088033739

Book preview

DANCING WITH THE DEVIL

  John Henry Hardy

Special thanks to Mr. Al Pennise, Deacon at Saint Catherine Drexel Church, Burlington, New Jersey for his advice and encouragement during the writing of this book.

Foreword

Who or what is the Devil? Does the name conjure up an image of a florescent, red skinned creature with eyes as black as coal, and brandishing a set of horns that mimic those of a mountain goat? Or perhaps it is his rippling, spear-tipped tail and cloven hooves that entice you, or possibly it is his evil come-hither look that is luring your vulnerable soul into temptation?

Is our belief that Adam and Eve committed the original sin when they ate the forbidden fruit an unadulterated way of saying, it was really the pair under the tree that caused the demise of mankind? When they were driven from the Garden of Eden, did the Lord banish their progeny to the seas, masquerading them as limbless creatures fiercely killing and devouring one another for food in order to survive? Did this legacy give rise to the Theory of Evolution and was it designed to again test mankind’s faith in God, and present humanity with an opportunity to make amends for Adam and Eve’s original sin?

Perhaps, He sanctioned some of their offspring to evolve into a number of different sea and land dwelling species to perpetuate the chaos, but mercifully permitted one female and one male to regenerate the human race over millions of years (science has recently proven that the entire human race originated from one common ancestry).

When that born-again species formed into clans, did they retain that food chain mentality, the survival of the fittest, in their genetic makeup? Does this trait drive mankind’s malicious quest to control other human beings, other nations, and the lower genera, and are the evils of lying, cheating, greed, stealing, murdering, raping, dominating, and

enslaving our fellow man fostered by such a gene? Does choosing a life of love, understanding and forgiveness, suppress such a gene’s tendencies as perhaps the Lord meant it to be, but does not prevail in those that choose the aforementioned evils?

Is this latent DNA really the true source of mankind’s temptations that we believe are fostered by a devil? Perhaps then, the concept of the Devil is merely a smidgen of deoxyribonucleic acid that has been nurtured by mankind’s quest to survive over the eons, and is therefore nestled in the chromosomes of every human being that is or ever was.

If not, then why has no one ever seen the Devil? Why are there no pictures, videos, or credible eye witness accounts to prove Satan’s existence? Must we merely rely upon the frightened minds of hysterical spectators, who believe they have witnessed a demonic event? Are those ethereal happenings mere allegations of Satan’s reality? If Heaven and Hell do not exist, and if our soul is what gives us life, when we take our last breath does it die too?

However, if Heaven and Hell are real, and as our body transmutes back into the particles of dust from whence it came, do the billions of souls that did not attain eternal salvation degenerate into spectral atoms that vainly roam the universe for all eternity? Do their souls comprise the billions of explosive and high velocity galaxies that are forever drifting away from our Garden of Eden at supersonic speed? Are these bursts of cosmological fire the flames of Hell that mankind so feverishly fears? Are those ghostly appearances in the night sky meant to remind us that Hell is never being in the presence of the Lord? Is being in His presence the ultimate reward for those souls that have been saved?

Only death can truly answer all of these questions, and allay your doubts and fears as your soul peacefully ascends into everlasting salvation. Or will the Devil be laughing with delight as your terrified soul ostensibly descends into the depths of Hell? Only time will tell, but wherever we spend eternity depends upon the choices a soul makes by utilizing the free will He granted to all of humanity.

This tale reiterates the worst evils that mankind has perpetuated upon itself over the eons of time, and proves that mankind never heeds the lessons of history and thus repeats its mistakes over and over again much to the demise of millions of innocent souls. The characters in this story are fictitious, but the historical facts of mankind’s the atrocities are true.

This story also speculates about what might occur if you believe the Devil is merely an aspect of our genetic makeup or our imagination and choose a life of evil, and what could possibly happen to your soul after death if you believe in God, and obey His commandments. In either case, my friend, you and I won’t know the truth of these possibilities until after our soul departs from our body.

The questions boil down to this; are you 202willing to gamble your eternal fate as merely comprising those fiery, spectral atoms composing the cosmos, as the first case may dictate even though you realize you could be wrong and perhaps be condemned to Hell? Or would you choose the second option, and live your life trusting in God and believing that your soul is immortal, and all the while hoping and praying that you will never end up DANCING WITH THE DEVIL?

Chapter 1

Robert Dray looked at his watch. It was eight PM on a Friday night and the 40 year old criminal defense attorney knew Bo Jo’s Swinging Singles Night Club would be at full throttle. The place was owned by his twin friends, Bob and Joey Kent, and was a great place for picking up hot and lonely chicks, or gay men or lesbian women, depending on your gender preference.

It had been a long day, and Robert was bored and dead tired as he sat at his desk, and he laid his head on his arms to rest for a few moments. As he relaxed, the thoughts about who might be waiting for someone like him at Bo Jo’s began impinging on his reverie. Bo Jo’s is a den of iniquity, he thought at first, but then scoffed at such a foolish idea to ease his conscience about living the sinful life style he had chosen. What beautiful and sexy she-devil might be there waiting to hook-up with a man like me? he thought! "I am willing to shell out enough bucks to get us both stoned and quench our insatiable sexual desires and have a lot of fun while doing so!

Drugs, alcohol, and sex diminish the stress of our unhappy work world for a few hours, he mused, and sex with a marriage partner can fall into a boring routine over time. Or perhaps this woman, who is waiting there for me, needs a respite from the wrath of a cruel or cheating spouse, and she’s seeking revenge. What could possibly be wrong with that? That situation had worked for him many times in the past, and he had no qualms about cheating on his wife, Monica, since to his way of thinking he was performing a service to another needy and lonely woman. He smirked at the thought!

These salacious thoughts kept encroaching on his daydreams and soon invigorated him. In what seemed like but a few minutes, he handed the keys to his new Lincoln Continental to the valet, and cautioned the kid as he patted him on the shoulder with one hand and slipped him a twenty dollar bill with the other, Take good care of my pride and joy; no nicks or scratches-even tiny ones.

No Sir, the youth replied as he crumbled the tip in his hand, no nicks or scratches-even tiny ones, and soon he and the Lincoln Continental disappeared into the multistoried parking garage, while Robert gleefully strolled through the door of the swinging singles club.

The dance floor was jam-packed, and he slowly wended his way through the throng of straights and LGBTQ couples, who sporadically stopped dancing to hug and kiss, and then continued to seductively mesh their hips and chests against their partner of choice. Some of the dancers brazenly turned about, enticing their partner by bending over at the waist, and brushing their derrières ever so lightly against a likely stranger, while still adroitly swaying in rhythm with the blaring tune. It’s a typical Friday night at Bo Jo’s, Robert thought as he nodded or smiled while weaving his way between the dancers, and therefore just about anything goes.

The crowd also included swinging married couples some of whom were just sitting at a table watching the revelers, while others were dancing and enjoying the festivities with someone other than their spouse. In addition to the alcohol, other recreational drugs such as GHB, Rohypnol and Ketamine-the date rape drugs-were also not unknown here. Sometimes these illegal drugs were discarded on the floor during police raids so the perps could not be identified and arrested. The police were called a number of times, since there were allegations of sexual assault after a couple hooked up and left the premises. However, no arrests were ever made as such allegations were never proven, and the regular patrons are well aware of the risks you take when you patronized a place such as Bo Jo’s.

When he got to the bar, Robert recognized several attorneys from the rival law firm of Hayden and Associates, and they glowered at him, but he ignored them. There was no love lost between them. His firm, Dray Law, had once again garnered the favor of Alessandro The Hammer Gigliano, the head of the Gigliano crime syndicate that called the streets of Manhattan its own. He had earned that sobriquet because the New York Police Department and the general public knew of the vicious and inhumane manner in which he dealt with his rivals, or anyone inside the gang who he felt did something disloyal to the mob. However, law enforcement could never garner enough hard evidence or any witnesses to charge and arrest him or any of his gang members.

Only his most trusted friends and family were allowed to affectionately call him Alex or The Boss; to everyone else he was The Hammer, a nickname he learned to love. It had earned him the undying respect of everyone who knew him, or did shady business deals with him, since his mob was involved in drug dealing, illegal alcohol sales, prostitution, gambling, and human trafficking.

The Hammer’s son, Leo, had been recently indicted for murder, and it caused a great deal of alarm in the Gigliano household. It was during that trying period that he hired the vaunted Hayden Law firm to defend his son. It was the first time a member of his immediate family had been charged with a crime, and The Hammer was upset with the Hayden Firm, since they didn’t succeed in getting Leo freed on bail, and he therefore remained incarcerated on Rikers Island awaiting trial.

Thus, the mobster then summoned Robert Dray, his old and trusted friend, whom he had used in the past to keep himself and members of his gang out of prison, and soon the criminal defense attorney showed up at their designated meeting place. The Hammer had been irked at Robert Dray in the immediate past, but the criminal defense attorney didn’t know why and he wasn’t about to ask. However, Robert was visibly shaken and was greatly relieved, when several weeks passed and he was still alive and he had not been beaten by The Hammer’s goons. That meant Robert’s wife was not in danger either. Whatever he did that angered the head mobster, it didn’t rate his usual revenge tactics.

Over the years, Robert pretended to ignore what sometimes went on during his meetings with the crime boss, and on this occasion he was still greatly agitated by his son’s continued incarceration. Thus, he was in a very bad mood. Robert was frisked by one of the hoods as he entered the deserted warehouse even though he was supposedly a trusted friend. He saw a man securely tied to a chair and anxiously looked at the man’s bloodied face and wondered what he did that pissed The Hammer off. Robert shuddered at the sight.

Your security payment is now one hundred fifty dollars per week, The Hammer was shouting at the hapless butcher, and you are fined five thousand dollars for pissing me off! My boys will be around tomorrow to pick up the cash. You got it? The frightened man readily nodded in agreement.

Next time you refuse to pay your protection money, The Hammer continued, we’ll torch your god damned butcher shop and burn your house down in the middle of the night with you and your family in it; Capeesh?

The victim knew The Hammer was dead serious about his threat to kill him and his family, and Robert saw more red droplets stain the man’s white butcher shop apparel as he bobbed his head up and down in surrender. An instant later, The Hammer punched him in the face so viciously that a faint sound echoed across the empty room, and a trail of blood droplets spewed through the air for several feet before splattering on the concrete floor. The man screamed in agony at the severity of the blow. It broke his jaw and it took several painful moments before he was able to move his head straight forward again.

The Hammer sneered at his pain, but the threats and the blow he landed did not abate the anger he was still feeling about his son’s continued incarceration. Then he merely nodded to several of his thugs, and a moment later they untied their victim, but kept him blind folded as they ushered him into the backseat of a black sedan, and as soon as one of the overhead doors opened the car roared out of the deserted warehouse.

As he and the crime boss passed through a more remote part of the storage area, Robert was shocked to see saw a young, long-haired youth clad in jeans and a tee shirt, dangling by his feet from a rafter. His legs were spread apart, his hands were tied behind his back, and his mouth was tapped shut.

We’ll deal with you in a few minutes, The Hammer mumbled as they approached the hapless kid, and the crime boss raised his clenched fist and walloped the youth with a hammer-like blow to his crotch! The youth violently shuddered in pain, and Robert could hear his muffled screams as his body convulsed, causing a slight swaying motion as it hung from the ropes. Then they resumed walking, and The Hammer turned his head back toward the hapless victim and shouted another threat, You’ll be enjoying a lot more of that in a few minutes, you bastard!

He turned toward Robert and continued his blather, He thought he could knock-up a Gigliano girl, and then just walk away. When I’m finished with Romeo there, he won’t be fucking anyone ever again. Robert smirked and pretended he wasn’t shocked by shrugging his shoulders, but his mind and soul knotted in fear at the frightening sight and hearing the hatred in the boss’ angry threat.

Once inside the warehouse office, The Hammer nodded to one of his henchman and he handed Robert a package. There’s thirty thousand bucks in that bundle, The Hammer remarked, and you know I will never again hand over that kind of dough to anyone in the Hayden firm! Twenty thousand is the retainer fee for you, since you will now be handling Leo’s case, and ten thousand is for Judge Bennett. If this extra ten grand isn’t enough to sway him to grant Leo bail, I will deal with him in a more forceful manner. He’s waiting for the dough, so drop it off at his place on your way home. I want you to understand Robert that I want my boy out of that rat hole, and I mean pronto.

Right Boss, Robert answered.

As they left the office and entered the main hub of the empty warehouse again, Robert saw that the kid was still hanging by his feet. The crime boss stopped a few feet from the unfortunate youth, and the two gloved mobsters standing next to the victim looked over at their boss, awaiting his further orders. Robert also stopped. The criminal attorney learned a long time ago that whatever The Hammer did you mirrored, regardless of what was about to transpire. Robert could tell by his attitude that The Hammer was still a little ticked off at him, and that the mobster wanted to refresh Robert’s memory as to what happened to anyone, who might be tempted to cross him, or do anything else that might piss him off. It was a very effective way of retaining someone’s loyalty!

The Hammer nodded, and the goon with the knife proceeded to cut away the cloth from around the boy’s crotch, exposing his testicles and penis that haplessly bobbed up and down as the terrorized prisoner thrashed about desperately trying to try to free himself from the horror he knew was about to befall him.

Take the tape off his mouth, The Hammer scowled as he spoke, I want to hear him scream! The other hoodlum, who wasn’t clutching a knife, ripped the tape off the hapless victim’s mouth.

Please, Sir, the youth pleaded, I’ll marry her. I’ll... Until an hour ago, the eighteen year old high school senior had no inkling of just how far the Gigliano family would go to extract its ultimate revenge. Part of The Hammer’s anger was that he learned the kid had bragged at school that he was screwing the head mobster’s niece, much to the high-fiving delight of his circle of friends. They envied his in with the famous Gigliano mob.

You knocked up my sixteen year old niece and you knew it, the mobster screeched, but never proposed to her!

I’ll marry her! the youth pleaded and screeched again, I’ll marry her!

His trepidation could not be explained in the words of any language, and his pounding heart kept pulsating in his throat in terror as he hung there, pleading, crying, and helplessly twisting, and bending his body, and all while the two goons administering his punishment, snickered as he barely swung to and fro on the hemp ropes.

You waited too fucking long you filthy scumbag, the mob boss angrily retorted. The prisoner stopped screaming for a moment as he intently listened to what the mob boss had to say, vainly hoping to hear a word of compassion.

You tried to disgrace my family’s name, The Hammer yelled, and worsened the situation by bragging to your asshole buddies at school that you knocked up your Gigliano girlfriend, and you thought you could get away with it, huh?’ The crime boss had student informants at several of the local high schools and colleges on his payroll, and knew that once this kid’s body was found none of his punk friends would ever again snicker or mumble another word about his dastardly deed!

Your bastard kid had to be aborted on the sly and that cost me a lot of bucks, The Hammer angrily shouted, and kicked the youth in the face, breaking his nose and splitting his lips open. Blood gushed down into his eyes, and the hapless victim closed them tightly as he endured this new wave of suffering, and his nonstop screaming ceased only briefly between his intermittent pleas for mercy.

But the fate of his son, Leo, had put the crime boss in a very ugly mood, and he paid no heed to his prey’s pleas for clemency as his fists pummeled his victim’s manhood, and his vengeful kicks continued to batter his face and head. The kid’s pathetic screams were like music to the criminal’s ears, and he began to feel a sense of satisfaction and relief from the intense frustration he harbored over the kid’s evil deed and his son’s impending plight.

Sneering, the mob boss then nodded to the goon wielding the knife, and he seized the youth’s exposed scrotum and squeezed as hard as he could! Ear-piercing screams again echoed off the barren walls of the vacant warehouse and red bubbles spewed out from the victim’s lips from the blood flowing over his eyes and forehead before pooling on the cement floor. However, the kid’s pitiful screams soon began to further assuage the crime boss’ anxieties, and once again he felt an alluring sense of power and satisfaction. The Hammer relished his moment of relief and then nodded to the knife wielding thug, and in two swipes of the honed blade the gangster castrated the dangling youth!

The victim was so horrified he couldn’t scream anymore; his life was over and he knew it! With each beat of his heart, the arterial blood went gushing down from the mortal wound and flowed over his stomach and chest, and puddled with his facial blood dripping on to the concrete floor. As the victim was taking his final labored breaths, an eerie silence pervaded the empty warehouse as the dying teenager now limply hung there, resembling a side of bloody beef dangling from a meat hook in a commercial slaughterhouse.

The sight made The Hammer feel even better, but the silence and the sight of the dangling youth was not alleviating all his frustrations, and he looked over at his trusted cronies and barked in a sonorous voice, Finish the job! Still grasping the severed organ, the gloved mobster replied, Yes Boss. The Hammer gave the man a thumb’s up at his response, and the knife wielding goon severed one of the ropes, and for a moment the dying youth dangled by one leg. Then the mobster cut the other rope and the dupe landed on