Mafiosa

P R O L O G U E

VALENTINA LUCCHESE

Where are we going?" My small, six year old self asked, peering out of the car window. Darkness overwhelmed the street with not a soul to be seen, except for the occasional stray cat that could be seen wandering around houses, looking for it's next meal.

"It's time you learn about the real world." The Don shortly replied, his eyes concentrated on the road in front of him. His tone held no emotions when he spoke to me, just like always.

"The real world?" I asked, confused by his statement. Instead of giving a reply in return, he parked his expensive car in front of a grey building.

"Come on." He told me as he opened his car door, signalling for me to follow him.

I stepped out of the car, intrigued about what could be inside. We walked up to the building and Don's calloused hands knocked against the thick, metal door. It immediately opened to reveal a short, stubby man dressed in a white wife beater and black, thigh-length shorts.

"Ahh! Don Lucchese! Long time no see." The man exclaimed, before looking down at me. "And who is this little girl?" He asked as he ruffled my thick hair.

"This is my daughter, Valentina."

"Oh I see, come on." His tone became serious, as he led down towards a dark corridor. I clutched my arms around myself tightly, as we walked down the creaky steps. As we reached the last concrete step, I immediately cringed. There was a horrible, overpowering smell. The Don chuckled at my reaction, before opening another door. Behind that door, was not what I expected, nowhere near.

The entire room was soundproof with carpet, everywhere, on the walls, ceiling, and floor. Red and brown stains were splattered around the room, producing that vile smell. My eyes searched around the room before something, or someone, caught my attention. In the middle of the room was a beaten up man, who was sitting on a wooden chair, coated in his own blood.

The Don watched me observe the room before he spoke, pointing one finger at the bloodied man, "See this man, this is a bad man." He then paused to reach into his suit pocket and pulled out a shiny black metal object. "Bad people deserve to have bad things done to them." He continued, offering the gun towards me. Fear paralysed me, hoping he wouldn't ask.

"Kill him." His tone turned surprisingly cold, as he roughly grabbed my tiny hands and lined my fingers on the trigger. "No emotions, don't think about it, just do it." He repeated to me as I looked into the eyes of the bloodied man. His blue eyes stared at me and he began to violently shake, pleading for his life.

"Please, I have a family to look after. I can't leave them. Please!" The man screamed deafeningly, looking directly at me with his eyes holding a sense of fear and pain. He brought his hands together, in a prayer position, and continued to scream and cry while crimson red blood from his opened wounds trickled down his arms.

I shook my head at Don. I just couldn't do it. Instead of reacting out of anger, he placed his fingers on top of mine, right where the trigger was, and pressed down. The sound of the bullet passing through the man's chest rang throughout the room, causing me to shake violently. The sounds of his pleading immediately were gone, and were replaced by utter silence.

A single tear escaped my eyes. That was my first kill. And the worst part? That man's eyes never lost contact with mine, even when he was left lifeless. The image of him had been ingrained in my mind forever.