The fog parted with the badger's footsteps as he moved from the doorway to the luxury car parked near the warehouse. The smaller gennet beside him smiled obsequiously. "Don't be too concerned, Mr. Maranzano. The ship was delayed in the fog tonight but everything has arrived. We'll have a count for you in a few hours, and we can get it out to the associates starting tomorrow."
Pausing nearly mid-step, the stocky badger turned and fixed the smaller fur with a withering stare. "Make sure everything is correct. This is a new venture for us, but since the end of prohibition, we've not been making the money we want. I will not tolerate anyone thinking they can skim off the top. If anything is missing, find the problem and deal with it. Quickly."
With a nervous chuckle, the gennet acquiesced. He could feel the weight of the pistol concealed in his jacket seem to grow with the command. Of course, Valachi didn't fear having to use it on some new punk who didn't know any better. What he feared was having to report that anything was missing at all to Don Maranzano.
Continuing on, the two finished the short journey, and the gennet opened the door to the new Imperial luxury automobile. After getting in, the badger paused the gennet from closing the door. "Chuckie, this is important. See this through, and bigger opportunities will be coming. But if you screw this up..." Leaving the threat unfinished, the mafia don settled back into the car, leaving his associate to close the door.
Valachi swallowed heavily as the auto's headlights sprang to life, and it quickly purred away into the foggy night. Relax, he told himself, not like anything could go wrong. Shipment was an hour late, big deal. Cops are bought and paid for, and there's soldato all over the docks to keep people from getting too nosy.
Figuring his bet was to head back inside and get the men organized he headed back to the door. One of the guys opened it as he got near it, throwing a rectangle of light and warmth out onto the foggy night. Shivering, he stepped inside and closed the door, leaning back against it. Meeting with the boss was always a nerve wracking ordeal, but tonight it was the chill that had him. Cold - damn cold - tonight.
Pushing himself off from the door, he moved out towards the middle of the lit up warehouse. "Alright you guys, get over here for a minute." At the sound of his raised voice, his men lined up quickly, if somewhat disorderly. "The don wants all this stuff inventoried so we know that some ship rat with sticky paws didn't take a cut of the family's stuff. We're gonna start on the eastside, and move to the west. Take the crates past me, read off the number on the side, and take it to the table and weigh the contents. It's gotta be thirty pounds per crate, or heads will roll. I wanna know the exact counts, 'cause I got the manifest that says how much each one weighs, so don't fuck around!"
At the end of his commands, he gestured and the furs moved to start grabbing crates. Meanwhile, he picked up a clipboard and pen, getting to work on his own work. In the short lulls between numbers being shouted back at him, he let his mind wander. Tonight seemed like the kinda night they had in them made up horror movies. Valachi hadn't seen too many of them, but still it was amazing what technology could do these days. He heard tell that since they'd managed sound so well on movies, they were working on color now.
An hour crawled by, and then another, interspersed with time for the guys or himself to grab coffee or a cigarette. So far, everything was in order. He was about to double check a crate number on the manifest when the lights flickered and went out. "God damnit. Joey, get the fuck out there and check the fuses. Dave, get out the damn flashlights just in case. I don't care if the whole damn city goes dark, I ain't disappointing the don." One man grabbed flashlights and handed them out while the other one headed outside, leaving the door open in his haste. Valachi waited with his four associates inside the warehouse, listening to them chat about girls and booze before the lights flickered back to life.
Marching through the door, Joey closed the door quickly. "Yeah, just a fuse. Burned out pretty bad too." The deer shivered, hugging his arms to himself. "Fuck me it's cold out. And damnit, the fog's gotten in." Snickering Valachi gestured for him to get back to work. "Your own damn fault for leaving the door open, idiota."
Sure enough, a thin layer of fog covered the floor, though it would start to dissipate quickly. The autumn's chill had entered worse than before though and Valachi had to force himself to not shiver like the other men. But it never hurt to keep an appearance of strength, and in times... There was a loud crack from across the room and he left the thought unfinished as he whipped around to see what it was. One of his men, a large boar had tossed down a crate from the stack and pointing over to a stack of crates nearby. "The hell is that?!"
"The fuck are you scared of now, Vincent..." Following the boar's pointing hand, he looked up to a stack of other crates in the warehouse. On top of the crates was little more than fog. But then it started to move.
Out of the mist congealed a figure, but Valachi was frozen solid by the apparently glowing blue eyes near the figure's covered face. Taking advantage of the surprise, the figure lept and ran across some of the boxes, leaping down with a quickness Valachi didn't believe possible. Smashing into the boar, there was a sickening crunch and groan as Vincent hit the pavement, driven face first by the mysterious figure who quickly stood up.
With surprise wearing off, Valachi was able to get a better idea of what he was looking at. And it didn't impress once the shock wore off. His men quickly started advancing on the strange fur, pulling out knives and brass knuckles. short, and covered head to toe in gray, the figure resembled nothing so much as a piece of fog that had decided to detach itself from the surrounding night. Only the glowing blue eyes gave Valachi pause.
Leaping towards the figure, a fox was the next to taste concrete. As the fox flew in for tackle, the foggy figure ducked low under his charge, instead lifting him up and unceremoniously dumping him on his head seconds later. Another sickening crack, and another groan. The remaining three men watched the figure carefully, but did not yet make any movements toward him.
Valachi growled, and strode forward. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you have any idea what kinda shit you're in now, pal? I'll do you a favor and spare you the trouble of dealing with the don, and kill you quickly." The figure's face seemed canine, but Valachi couldn't be entirely sure. What he did notice was the complete lack of emotion on the face. Not a word said, not a single heavy breath. Instead, the figure whipped out a collapsible baton from somewhere inside the heavy cape it wore and dove at the large panther to his left.
Beau whipped his heavy black fist at the figure's head, but even as fast as the strike had seemed to Valachi, the other fighter was long gone before it connected. Silently the mysterious fur buried a fist into panther's gut, doubling him over. Then the baton came whistling around in high arc, smashing into the back of the panther's skull behind his ear, whipping his head forward and down. He sank to the floor without making another sound.
Finally a mistake was made as the figure continued to focus on the disabled cat, planting a savage kick into the unconscious thug's ribs. Leaping over the unconscious Vincent Joey closed the gap to the caped fur quickly, knife in hand. Meanwhile Virgilio moved the other direction and grabbed a tommy gun off the table and cocked it.
With a quick swat, Joey knocked the baton away with his knife hand, making it skitter away under some crates. He buried his other fist into the gut of the caped one, driving him back with a muffled grunt. It pleased Valachi to know now that at least whoever it was, they were mortal. For a minute, he'd actually been worried.
His panic returned quickly though as Joey slashed down at the ghostly figure. Somehow, the figure turned to avoid most of the blow, but simply caught the blade dead on it's left forearm. To no effect, as if the blade had met a brick wall. Joey had enough time to start to curse before the ghost swung it's right arm around in a wide arc, smashing it down into the back of his head. This time there were two sickening cracks. One as the figure's arm smashed and broke Joey's antlers, and another as the still fast moving forearm smashed into his skull.
As the deer collapsed into a moaning heap, the figure straightened and turned to the two remaining mafiaosos. Feeling the burning taste of bile in his throat, Valachi scremed in terror. "Virgilio, ventilate the damn stugot!"
The bear was aiming at the ghostly figure, and yet, whether due to terror or some preternatural speed the figure possessed, he didn't act first. Raising up a short snub-nosed pistol of it's own, the figure fired first, a small soft pop audible in the air. It didn't stop Virigilio from clamping a finger down onto the trigger of his own tommy gun. Instead of burping death however, the barrel of the tommy gun exploded with a bang, laying the bear on his back, unconscious and bleeding from the shrapnel. And maybe a bullet fired by the figure, but the gennet wasn't sticking around to find out.
With the echo of the gun's explosion still ringing in his ears, he dove for the door, falling to all fours before recovering and crashing through the door and out into the fog. "What the hell was that thing... It ain't real, can't be real...gotta be a dream." Running through the docks, Valachi pulled his pistol out of his jacket, taking turns at random until finally even he wasn't sure where he was because of the fog anymore. Collapsing against a building, he stopped to rest, his breath heaving.
It took a moment for him to realize he was being watched, a pair of softly glowing blue pinpricks showing the location of a ghast in the fog. Valachi brought up his pistol quickly, the gun icy cold and heavy as fate in his hand. Even as he started to squeeze the trigger he heard that small pop again. As his gun went off, it misfired spectacularly, launching the slide back towards him, grazing his cheek just enough to leave a bloody line through his fur. Tossing away his gun and clutching his hand in pain, he fell to his knees.
Nearby, the shattered and steaming remains of his pistol mocked him, the barrel blocked by a glob of some sort of greyish material. So that's how the stranger had mad virgilio's tommy gun his own worst enemy. Without time for any further thought, Valachi was slammed onto his stomach, with a massive weight sitting on his back. "Charles Valachi, Chuckie....caporegime for the Maranzano family," whispered a soft, rime laden voice in his ear.
"Don't kill me, please!" he pleaded, "I'll go straight, I'll join the seminary, I'll do anything, just don't kill me!" Gloved paws clamped over his muzzle. "I am going to burn your warehouse to the ground, and leave your friends for the police to find," the voice whispered. Valachi could practically feel their lips against his ear, felt every soft puff of breath, and yet the voice seemed so distant and sepulchral. "But you will deliver a message for me."
One of the grey gloved hands set a envelope down where he could see it, and guided his hand over it. "You will not read it, or turn it over to anyone other than Don Maranzano... Or I will find you... again..."
Valachi nodded and groaned with the pain of it. "Of course, of course!" He might have said more, but he heard a soft snap and smelled, for the smallest of seconds, something foul, before his vision blurred and he collapsed into unconsciousness.

Charles Valachi had no idea how long he was unconscious. When he came to, he was in an alley, leaned against a dumpster. The first thing his brain was able to identify was a flaming warehouse in the short distance, firefighters moving quickly to try and stop the flames from spreading. The police were there to, taking statements. Looking down at his hand, he saw a very nicely lettered envelope in his hand.
"From the Gray Ghost" it said.