8. Day 21 - Domenico
Thud.
“Again.”
Crack.
The voice in my ear purrs, pushing me on as sweat beads on my forehead.
“Harder,” it murmurs. “You have to truly mean it, Rossi.”
I take a breath, but all I can smell is… smoke.
Dark soot, smeared across Bea’s face, around her lips, her nose. Her beautiful skin darkened to a deep cherry red. And her eyes… open.
Accusing.
Where were you, Domenico?
The man in front of me is sobbing through the gag I strapped to his face. Begging, full of tears and snot and excuses that won’t get him anywhere. Not in this room.
But all I can hear is my sister, screaming for mercy that didn’t come.
I didn’t come.
Not in time to save her, or Pepe.
Always just that little too late. Always.
A hand lands heavily on my shoulder, squeezing. “That’s it. Remember what’s at risk, Rossi.”
Encouragement and a warning. Honey mixed with poison, reminding me of what happens if I try to refuse.
I tried, at first.
That didn’t last long.
And now I don’t need Matteo’s warnings, as the bat swings.
Screaming.
Blood.
And I watch it all, watch the carnage in that dim basement room as if from a distance as the last of my humanity slips away, flowing into the drains below us as the bat connects again.
And again.
And again.
Others around me flinch as scarlet flecks coat them, as the crack of bones breaking sounds in the musty air around us.
My heart pounds in the same rhythm, even as I try not to think of her.
But she invades my thoughts anyway, images of her face and Bea’s crossing, merging, until I can’t tell one battered face from the other.
Cat.
Cat.
Cat.
Hands on my arm, pulling me back. Laughter, low and delighted.
“Just look at you.”
Glee- so much glee in those drawled words.
“Perfect, Rossi. I knew you would be.”
I am not perfect.
I am broken.
Numb.
Gone.