Stefan Salvatore Ripper Novels & Stories

I asked and Davian snorted. His eyes twinkled with mischief “I would like to think my best friend’s speciality is hunting humans” Goosebumps lined my arms. Sometimes there was a darkness in Davian’s eyes whenever he talked about something. I have heard stories of his best friend, Ricardo Salvatore. He was Italy’s most feared mafia boss and was a monster. It was understandable why he was barely around Davian and they only seemed to meet in private and only when it was important because Ricardo was not the man who loved public appearances.

I pick one of the photographs from the top of the pile, and tape it onto my victim’s snout. I then reach under the mattress and pull out my knife—the very same knife I used to kill those thirteen people before joining THEM—and begin stabbing, and stabbing, and slashing, and destroying the fucking smug extinct lizard, over, and over, and over again. It’s one of those talking toys, so as I am stabbing him he keeps telling me how much he loves me, which just makes me laugh even more.

Salvatore’s scream echoed. I twisted the knife slowly. “I’m not interested in your excuses.” The Warning Blood pooled on the table. Salvatore gasped, face pale. I leaned in, my voice calm. Steady. “You thought I was weak.” I twisted the blade again. “You thought I was just an easy target. Something you could eliminate, and Dante would fall back in line.” I pulled the knife free, watching as blood poured from his ruined hand. “That was your first mistake.” He shuddered. “Please—”

“It’s more than she’s ever given you. She takes, I give. Think about it.” I laughed bitterly. “Give? You’re a liar. I saw the pictures, Salvatore. I know what you are.” His eyes narrowed as a flicker of something I couldn’t decipher crossed his face. “What I am?” “A killer. A boss. A kingpin. Whatever you call it, I’m not buying your saviour act.” He paused. His hand dropped and his stance shifted. “You’ve been busy,” he said quietly, almost impressed. “How did you get this information?”

I tried to breathe, to form words, but they just wouldn’t come, “He... he killed someone because of me?” “He didn’t just kill him, Alessia. He butchered him. He smashed a bottle over his skull in front of everyone, put two clips into anyone who blinked wrong. And when the cops came, he stood there smiling, covered in blood like he’d just done the world a favor.” I shook my head slowly, “He wouldn’t—” “He would,” Salvatore barked, cutting me off, “He would, and he did. He is a fucking psycho. Every time some idiot breathes your name, Rino makes sure he never does it again.”

"You, who the hell are you?" Salvatore couldn't help feeling offended by the fact that these three famous people didn't recognize him. As a powerful Mafia boss, he had always regarded himself highly, and he would have expected other powerful individuals like Mrs Danvers and Erin, to recognize who he was. Rising from his seat, Salvatore approached Mrs Danvers, saying, "I'm Don Salvatore. And I believe you know the reason why my men kidnaped you?"