Violence Of Mind Novels & Stories

This was what violence actually looked like, messy, unglamorous, and absolutely final. "Does this trouble you?"

It didn't register. The violence I had just dispensed in the basement felt detached from me now. It was a necessary task, a routine part of maintaining order in a territory that belonged to us. The Diablos rat had crossed a line and my fists had simply delivered the penalty. My pulse was steady, my breathing perfectly even. My mind was already miles away from the bleeding man tied to the metal chair downstairs. I closed my eyes for a second, and Nirvana’s face instantly filled my mind. The contrast was sudden and absolute.

The impact between my head and floor have black spots crowding my vision. Hands grab at my breasts. They shove their disgusting fingers inside of me. The junction between my thighs burns and hurts beyond measure. But fear doesn't consume me. I know no matter what they do to me; I'll get my revenge. I'll erase them and everyone they love from the face of the earth.

There’s an entire havoc inside my head, a war being fought, violent ideas being exchanged about how to get rid of a certain mafia man. In the entire 30-minute drive, my brain has come up with at least 1,500 ways to render him motionless, unconscious, or dead. Too bad none of them are even remotely practical. Except for the rat poison, but for some reason, the idea of him feeding on the poison with that little girl under the same roof makes my stomach turn. I can’t do that with her being around. It’s just not right. Is it?

His voice echoed, raw and menacing, “Where is that bitch?! Where’s Ivy?! I swear...if she’s gone..!” Robert froze for a split second, astonished. Victor’s madness was unchecked. He was raging like a storm, eyes wild, every word dripping with the kind of fury that made even Robert Wolfe uneasy. Even he, a man who had instilled fear in countless others, felt the first genuine tremor of unease. Victor’s fury was untethered, primal, and terrifying. His son’s eyes, wide and unblinking, were filled with a madness that even Robert had not anticipated.

The sound of his voice only fueled the boiling pressure inside my skull. I set the pliers down and reached for something heavier, and then, the room became a blur of red. I tortured him. I tore into him with a calculated, merciless brutality, and with every strike, the violence inside me only escalated. Every time I looked at his bleeding, swollen face, my mind reeled back to my pregnant wife. I remembered her cold, lifeless hand. I remembered the heavy, suffocating realization that my unborn child—our future—had been poisoned and stolen from me by these very beasts.

Fist clenched, breath drawn deep, I channeled strength into my core. My fist collided with the tree's trunk. Crack! Two fissures erupted from the point of impact, racing outward, splitting the trunk in two. Shock painted their faces. The tree's crown lurched, crashing down with a 'whoosh!' The earth trembled, leaves took flight. I shook out my hands and faced them squarely. "Had I actually pushed her, she'd be in the hospital right now." Alice's tears ceased, her complexion ghostly. Victoria's rage gave way to terror, her grip on Alice's arm so fierce that her nails could have drawn blood.

I was being dragged into his darkness, my mind was swamped with depravity, degradation and death, everywhere I looked, I saw the very worst acts of violence, abuse and rape that could be inflicted on one person by another. Nothing was sacred if one person started butchering another; those around them joined in until the floor ran with their blood. When I turned away, I saw three men grab a woman and force her to perform the most depraved sex acts they could think of, holding her down as she screamed soundlessly into the void.

Ruining Luciano’s party in the process. My doll’s fierce gaze reappeared in my mind, her voice drifting back to me. She had wanted to know if I would kill everyone who touched her, and truly, I would. The fastest and most effective way to get things done, in my world, was violence. Even the kingdom of God suffers violence, and only the violent take it. With a compelling force. I had just come into my bedroom and was cooling off with a glass of whiskey, after an intense punishment session with her.

I forget things. Small things at first. A conversation. An order. A face. Then bigger. I speak to someone, turn away, and moments later I don’t remember what I said or why or who they were. It’s like pieces of my mind are being carved away slowly and I can’t stop it. Violence comes easier now. A servant drops a tray and the sound is sharp. I turn and before I can think.... He’s on the ground blood pooling beneath him. My hand still raised.