Sua Farfalla

A little powerful thing called karma

(A/N: sensitive topics and graphic violence described here, move on if you're not up for it). 

(Three years later)

Alonzo's POV:

Pointing my gun against his head brought me an immense amount of satisfaction. 

The cold sticky sweat running down his forehead combined with his terrified expression only served as fuel to my rage.

Looking at him deep into his eyes, I see him fall to the ground and kneel in front of me, begging me to spare his life.

I couldn't help the sinister smile that crept towards my lips, enjoying the sense of superiority he's unknowingly providing me.

"Please", he choked out again like a broken record. "Don't kill me, please, I will do anything, just please let me go".

Huge mistake.

For some reason, begging always seemed to tick me off. The way I see it, no one should beg for their life, we should all die with dignity, not behaving like a damn coward.

"I can't do that", I stated nonchalantly while taking the secure off my gun.

"Wh- why not?", he desperately cried out.

"Because I'm the boss in here, and you are just another one of my bitches"

With that last phrase, I pulled the trigger and enjoyed the show displayed before my eyes.

Number 36 can now be crossed off my list.

Getting out of the building and into the car, I instructed some of my men to clean the place up, and by clean, I simply mean blow it up. 

People'll call it a 'construction error'.

It's been a year since I got out of prison already, and my heart was aching to see my farfalla again. 

Still, I knew I had to take care of my business first. 

That's why as soon as I got out, I traveled to Italy and met with my cousin Carlo, my mind set on killing the Marti duo.

To my surprise, it took me no effort at all to find them. In fact, when I got there I learnt Carlo had taken revenge for me and had kidnaped them, becoming the new Capo of the mafia.

Fortunately though, he hadn't killed them for me, knowing full well I'd want to take revenge on my own hands.

So after killing them slowly and mercilessly, I continued to 'take care' of every single name I had memorized that had disrespected me on some level.

A year has passed since then and I'm only down to two more people on my hit list. 

Jenna's step uncle and father.

Even though I told Carlo I wasn't interested in being part of the mafia again, he insisted I took some of his men until my killing spree was over.

What a nice gesture.

Driving towards my compound, I decided to end my toy's life already, given that he's truly becoming boring.

As I got out of the car, I instructed my men to keep searching for Gerald, Jenna's father, who for some unknown reason had disappeared a few years ago.

As I opened the door to my house, I made my way towards the living room and took off my suit jacket, pouring myself a whiskey while taking my gun off its holder and gently placing it on the desk.

While descending the stairs that led to the 'playroom', I opened the door only for my eyes to meet an image that warmed my heart.

There he was, Roger Somers, hanging from the ceiling by two chains attached to his wrists, covered in blood, sweat and tears.

He was none responsive at this point, taking my assaults as if they were butterfly kisses. 

I guess after being tortured for four months, one stops feeling pain altogether, which is exactly why I was beginning to get bored.

Walking into the room, I closed the door with a loud thud and watched him slowly raise his eyes to look at me.

All I saw at this point was a defeated man, a broken one. 

Good, I wanted to break him just as much as he intended to break his own niece.

"So", I slowly began while sitting on the armchair next to a desk that held all my torture devices. 

"I've already told you why you're here, I've already punished you like I wanted to, and I think the fact that you've suffered is clear enough isn't it?".

He lowered his head not being able to hold it upright anymore, and saw him shred a few tears.

"Don't do that, I'm not gonna join your pity party".

My warning came out rough and violent. 

The disgust this man made me feel was beyond anything imaginable.

The thing is, I'm not only punishing him for what he did to my farfalla, but I'm also making him pay for his other multiple crimes.

When his name became the next on my hit list, I immediately did a background check on him to see what kind of man he truly was, to see how much punishment he deserved, although what I found was far from disturbing.

As it was said, he had become a pediatrician only to molest children in his consulting room. 

He had apparently abused over nine children, making them believe that what he was doing to them, the way he touched them, was correct, and they shouldn't complain to their parents.

Not only that, but I also found out he had been accused of s****l assault by three of his classmates at the age of sixteen and nineteen, along with some declarations saying he was some sort of sadist or something.

The guy truly was sick, so given the fact justice wasn't doing s**t, as usual, I took it upon myself to introduce him to a little powerful thing called karma.

After looking intently at him for a few minutes, I finally placed my whiskey on the table and grabbed my favorite knife.

Sitting criss crossed on the floor in front of him, I reached my hand to his chin, pulling it up gently so that he'd be looking at me.

"You see Roger, I really don't like you", I softly said. 

"Not one single bit".

Grabbing a lighter from my pocket, I put the knife's blade against the fire and waited until it got really hot.

"We live in a f****d up world, where many people think they can go around doing s**t and never get caught. 

Roger, there aren't good and bad people, there are just humans, and we are all a little bit f****d up. 

But there are some who aren't only f****d up, they are sick, just like you".

Considering the blade was hot enough, I grabbed a hold of his hair and held his face real close to mine, looking intently into his empty eyes.

"We share this world Roger, all together we do, and the way I see it, you'll never understand the damage you did to the people you hurt until the same thing is done to you. 

That's why I'm here, you see?, to make sure you get what you've done".

Raising my hand still holding the knife towards his neck, I slowly pressed it against him, enough so that he'd feel the heat emanating from it.

The next word came out with so much venom that I actually thought some sort of evil spirit had possessed me and made my voice sound a lot more scarier than I thought it could.

"Yeah, I chopped off your d**k, your fingers, your toes, your nose, your ears and even your heels. 

I've sliced through your stomach only to patch it up and do it again. 

I've burned you, stabbed you, cut you and shot you more times that I can even remember. 

And I regret nothing, for you deserved everything"

With that, I slowly sliced through his neck, enough to cause a mortal wound, but not enough for him to die immediately.

Standing up, I grabbed my whiskey from the table and poured it on him to make the cut ached even more. 

I slowly made my way towards the door while muttering the last words his dying soul would hear.

"But if you think the things I did to you were too much, just wait and see what's awaiting you in hell".