“Don't say I didn't warn you….” I push him out of my way and take steps away from him, making my point to him. And I am leaving his office.
My mind and body can't stand here and watch as he insults my mother. He knows he doesn't have any hold on me if he doesn't give me something tangible. And I am not one to stand by and watch him play games with me or waste my time.
“But yes,” He shouts out so loud at me and that announcement halts my movements. I stand frozen, not believing any of this yet.“I will help you.”
I take in a deep breath before turning back to see that he means what he is saying. I try to hide a smile on my face. I can't believe this is happening. I am finally going to be free from the Mafia life with nothing holding me back.
Setting me free from the Mafia world is not something my uncle was willing to do ever in his life. He has always made it his mission to gloom and turn me into him. Turn me into someone who would continue our family legacy.
Wait....There must be something beyond imagination behind all this for him to finally let me go. And with my uncle, nothing comes for free.
I can't stand the suspense, so I enquire to get a glimpse of what I am getting myself into. “What is the catch?” I question my uncle.
But instead of replying to my inquiries, he smiles broadly, saying nothing as he continues walking to his office. And I follow beside him.
Bringing myself back to the torturous journey. In the room beside me, dozens of dead women lay in heaps in the room we pass by with blood covering the whole room where they lay.
While unconsciously searching for Keirah among the corpses. I accidentally watched closely at their bodies. And noticed that more concentration of the blood that surrounds their bodies came from their private parts.
These didn't make it when they were exposed to Agra.
Agra is my uncle's sex drug that takes minds off anything and everything for all the time the drug is in their system.
All victims of this drug cannot help themselves during the time the drug is in their system. All they see and want at that moment is to have sex.
My uncle developed the drug to be used in his sex trade. Its extreme effect is that it attaches itself to the walls of the reproductive organs.
So that when the victim's bodies are not subjected to intensive sex, the reproductive blood vessels burst, causing death.
He feeds the drug to his prostitutes, and, within ten minutes of the consumption, the drug is already at its maximum activation. Within thirty minutes of no sex, the prostitutes die of hemorrhagic stroke.
I get mentally prepared for the coming rooms where my uncle's way of killing gets more disturbing.
With each follow-up room. I blink and push my eyes to focus on the long corridor, not the rooms.
But then more metallic blood scent hits my nose so much.
My mind makes me feel as if I am forced to taste the metallic smell of fresh blood on my tongue.
I know this.
I have been through this so many times. 'The walk to hell'.
It is a way my uncle uses to torture weak minds before he gets us into his office for special assignments.
With this kind of torture on me, he must be planning on something as bad as asking me to put a bullet through the US president.
I have seen people peeing their pants before they made it to my uncle's office.
No one has ever found the strength to say no to him, however evil the assignment was after this walk.
I pull myself together and walk past my uncle in quicker steps before walking past the last room to his office. The room always makes it impossible for me all the time.
Wearing a stone-cold expression as I try hard to keep the indifference covering the features of my face. But my mouth betrays me. As I try to take further steps, my body betrays me, too. I can't.
My body is frozen. I stand still as I spit saliva out of my mouth continuously. In the room beside me, mouth-taped pale, heavily pregnant dead women's bodies are tied to chairs.
He cut their stomachs open. Parts of the dead babies in their abdomen are being pulled out by my uncle's aggressive German shepherd dogs.
The dog's barking noise fills the room, and they keep on standby by the door, waiting for my uncle’s command to attack.
But that is not the scary and saddest part of it all. These dead women's children are tied in cages in front of their dead mother's corpses, and they all have watched everything from start to end.
Watching until their mothers struggle painfully to take their last breath. And now they are watching as their mother's dead bodies are getting violated.
All these kids are around the age of five to seven.
Traumatized children who make it out of these rooms become loyal dogs to my uncle. They end up doing the same thing to other kids who all become like them. A vicious cycle of broken children.
As usual, what is expected of me happens again.
I hate it when it happens, especially in front of my uncle.
My humanity takes over, and I forsake everything in my plan as I take a step toward the dogs. My mind won't let me walk away and leave these kids here. I need to save these kids. I see these kids in me and the ugly traumatized life he is setting for them.
I don't want the darkness and death to be the only thing they know. I need to free them.
“BULLET STOP…” my uncle shouts. Bringing me back from my trance to my reality. I stand shaking as my uncle pulls me back.
I want to pull out my gun and shove it in his mouth. If he did not have a mark on Zia and James. I swear he would have been dead by my hand by now.
I have not met an evil person who came close to what my uncle was capable of. Putting up a failed act, an emotionless act, at staring at the kids that stare back at me with no life in their eyes. Every feeling has been shut out of their senses.
I hold myself still so as not to choke and show the human side that I am trying to hide. Trying to hide those human feelings I can't suppress somehow when I arrive here.
But my uncle knows me too well. He can see through me all the time, even when I always don't want him to. Coming here is hell for me.
I don't want these feelings to resurface in me or crowd my judgment while I am still in a mafia world. They will be my biggest obstacle on my way out.
I drop my gaze to compose myself before I raise my eyes to my uncle. He shakes his head in disappointment as he speaks.“You are my biggest failure.”
“You both failed to train me well,” I answer him stubbornly. This answer, for him, is not pleasant. It means his brother, my father, did a bad job at raising me. This always works at triggering him.
When I speak of my father badly, my uncle's expression always turns dark. His goons surrounding us watch my uncle's face turn dark. And one of his goons standing guard at his office door turns around quickly.
And without wasting time, he does what his job entails. He aims a gun at my head.
No human stays alive after they have made my uncle angry. But no one aims a gun at me in this range and lives to see another day. A gun at me… I watch my uncle and laugh at him. My uncle angrily walks in quick steps and takes away the gun from the man holding it at me into his hands. He then speaks to me, watching me in the eyes with an intense, defensive look. “I am so sorry Bullet.” Without blurting an eye or turning around, he raises the gun in his hand abruptly. BOOM ... Shoots his goon, who was holding the gun at me in the head. The man drops dead, blood spattering all over, and neither of us turns a head at the dead guy as we keep up with a staring contest. I knew this was coming. There was no day I was here. And I didn't witness him kill anyone. My uncle shouts out aloud to all his goons surrounding us. “HEY, YOU ALL NEVER POINT A GUN AT MY NEPHEW UNLESS I ASK YOU. I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DO.” Then a faint sinister smile crosses his face before he continues walking into h
“What is it you want and why would you expect her to tell me anything?” “Well. You two wooed us with your dance yesterday.” I sigh in frustration, his answer is adding more questions to my head. If he sent her to me and she is one of his women. Why is she not giving in to what he wants me to help him with? Is there a possibility that he did not send her and she doesn't work for him? “Before that dance, I hadn't met her anywhere all my life. Is it because she accepted a dance with only me on the dance floor yesterday? That you think she will open to me on whatever it is you want from her?” My uncle smiles with a flatter. His smile is the one he wore yesterday. That is bringing back a memory of yesterday that irritates me. The smile is making me feel a purge of jealousy building in me nonstop. And I curse him so much in my head. Fuck him. Fuck the bastard… At the same time, I am reminded of yesterday's pain that I can't describe cutting through me. I am reminded of a memory of me st
I need to act now. But...But something is not adding up. I try to calm myself down before trying to speak in the most convincing tone to dig more into this. “And how do you expect me to make her give them up, Zio?” We both know I am very good at killing people who want me dead. I have never had time for a cheap chat or time to make small talk. This is his area of expertise. And I know he has the best men in here for that job. How is it that he needs me on this? He smiles before standing up from the table. “Well, let's see about that....” he stops speaking and continues smiling broadly again. Fuckin bastard…What is it that he knows that I don't know? Does he have more cards on his sleeve? He takes a seat back in his chair and lights his cigar again. As if speaking to himself, he continues to speak.“ Here is the deal. Here is why I called you to come in here. If you succeed in getting me the codes, I will fulfill your mother's wish for you. I will help you get out of all this unscrat
THIRD PERSON'S POV Twenty-four hours ago…. Luciano turned on his computer. Sat behind his car while his henchman turned to close brother named James. Drove him to his hotel. From afar, one would see him as a young man wearing a black ensemble with a half-on, half-off hoodie above his jumper and bomber jacket. The number of tattoos already penetrating each corner of his clothing would show him to be someone who had lost his way. And he could do better if he found a good company in a conservative society. But that was just a farfetched dream if you asked his opinion. He was 'the Bullet' in the world. He oversaw fifty deaths of the most well-protected, untouchable cartel leaders all around the world. Those were a few in the numbers known. The number of the unknown would be a hundred times more if he kept count. He did the mission of killing all the bosses in just two weeks. And he did all that killing alone. He was a one-man army. The most feared man in Italy, if not the entire
Her accent... It troubled him. She had the same accent as his. All his life he had heard no one speak his accent except for his late mother. “You are bleeding. Haven't you learned to bandage yourself until now?” She is a doctor. Not another doctor. Doctors recently were people he did not want around. “Why do you care? If you are a doctor wanting to pick your nose where it doesn't belong. Stay away from me,” he shouted as he turned around and tried to press the exit button to let her off. But she pulled him back before he could do anything. He turned around and held her by the neck, suffocating her as he pushed her to the wall of the elevator. “ARE YOU HERE TO KILL ME? DID SOMEONE SEND YOU HERE TO KILL ME? WHO SENT YOU AND WHAT DOES WHOEVER SENT YOU WANT FROM ME?” He yelled violently. Then…. The force she used to pull him back said otherwise to his thoughts. She was not any woman. This woman was from his mafia world. She held his two arms on her neck with just one hand and unt
“Mmmhhhh ...... Did you say home?” Luciano narrowed his eyes at her. Then he laughed sarcastically. Hiding her face from the elevator cameras. The woman raised her eyes to Luciano. “Make me understand something first. Where have you been for the past twenty-two years? What was my mother's bodyguard doing when someone shot her dead?” He continued shouting angrily. The pain of losing his mother was re-living in his mind and body. “Your father held your mother hostage. He used her as leverage for our pack. Your father threatened to kill her if we tried anything, and your mother promised us for years that she was planning a way to get you both out. “She wanted to run away with you, before, when you were two years old, to return to the pack and failed. When she tried again….” “I guess… You remember because you were there…. when she got shot and killed. In front of your eyes.” Listening to her like this triggered a memory and Luciano remembered his father's warning. Salvatore Solana, Lu
She was crazy. She couldn't find anything meaningful more than coming to him with one crazy hell of a story. Werewolf?! He thought to himself. He removed his hands from hers. Luckily, the elevator had opened, and he did not have to deal with this woman anymore. He motioned with his finger for her to walk out of the elevator before turning her back and threatening her. He was still scared of her, but he needed to make sure he spoke to her through her craziness so that she didn't think of ever coming back into his presence. “Do not follow me. I will shoot you if you do. I do not see a bulletproof on you, which means you will die if I shoot you. “I have made it my habit to not kill innocent people, women, and children, but if you cause any threat to my life, just like what you just did in this elevator, you won't live to see another day. Now go and never return here again.” He couldn't spare time for that kind of bullshit she was spitting. “You have approximately sixty days until th
Luciano sat at the bar, speaking his mind to himself. “What am I doing at the bar if I can't drink?” He shook his head. Because at the moment the debate going on in his head was driving him crazy. I need this. I need a bit of fresh breath. The bartender poured a glass and extended it to him. A temptation. “I SAID NO ALCOHOL TODAY,” Luciano shouted at the bartender. He had been telling the bartender to stop bringing him alcohol nonstop. Trying hard to keep his focus on his plan. The authority in his voice made the bartender tremble as he murmured again. “I am so sorry, boss.” The bartender in shock was mostly wondering how he got Luciano to talk back at him once again on the same day. The bartender was one among the people who wondered and were disturbed by Luciano's behavior. They had so many unanswered questions about a lot of the things Luciano did. For example, how the woman Luciano walked to the bedroom with from the bar understood what he wanted. Because the woman would spea