Sooo, finally the part we've all been waiting so eagerly for...
This chapter answers some big questions. It was pretty hard writting it though.
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DEMETRIOS' P.O.V.
Flashback:
My hand grew more tired after every slash. The bloody knife in my hand grew heavy, my body was aching with pain, wounds on my cut up back and arms reopened. They had to reopened, till now I've grown to recognize the stinging feeling. It happened too often, but I've learned to ignore it for the majority of time. My conscious was quiet for most of the time, practically non-existing anymore. But now it was a gentle whisper, it tried so hard to break through, telling me that what I did was not right.
It never was. But still I did it. I kept doing it, ignoring the good in me that slowly started to crack and fade under all the horrific things I have done so far.
Things he had made me do.
Finally I decided it was enough, I dropped the big silver knife, black symbols of my family ingraved on it were now stained with thick dark blood.
I moved my look from the stone ground in, what I thought was, the deepest cellar on earth. So deep, it surely had to be hell. It felt like hell. The small light bulb was hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the dark, cold cell and the small figure tied to a wooden chair before me.
It was a small girl with brunnete hair and deep brown eyes. Her giggles were heard around the mansion sometimes as she played and ran around the gardens, chasing butterflies and what not. She was always smiling. She was the daughter of one of the maids, not more than 6 or 7 years old, not older than myself.
And now she was dead. Her small body was covered in deep cuts and slashes, blood dripping from her wounds. Remorse once again tried to come forward and this time some small part of it succeded. I killed her. Her blood was staining my hands and it wasn't right. Unlike other grown men my father ordered me to torture and kill before her, she was innocent. Her only sin was that she laughed too loudly which made my father snap.
Of course he decided that killing a small girl would offer a precious experience to me so he ordered me to do it.
"Rip the tongue from her mouth then kill her. You better make it hurt!" were his words.
I've never disobeyed my father, I knew better than that, so I did as he said. I may be young, but I was forced to grow up a long ago. I received daily beating, my back earned daily whipping, slashing, cutting and burning since as long as I can remember. But I remained alive, I survived. If I'd not do all the horrific things he made me do, I would die. It's simple as that. Besides, to be honest, my victims, or my father's victims, did not provoke any emphaty inside me towards them. It was either them or me.
I chose me.
The only one I felt bad for was this one today. She deserved better.
Loud, powerful steps made every nerve in my body alert. Soon my father's tall figure stepped into the stone cell, he was dressed into a formal suit, his black hair were freshly cut and small evil smirk twitched on his lips. My blood froze because of this smirk, he always wore it when inflicting pain on me. It amused him to hurt me, I knew that, even though he assured me it doesn't give him any kind of pleasure to do so.
He slowly circled the dead girl, inspecting her figure, assessing my work, as he always did. His green eyes, reflection of my own, twinkled at the sight of girl's blood.
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Darkness Is The Only Light: Mafia Romance (18+)
Romance**in which a criminal finds his interest in a young orphan and toxicity dances with possessiveness like waltz** "M-maybe if things were different." My voice broke, tears burning down my face as a cold metal of his gun was held against my forehead. "...
