Anger Management [Meloghia]

Chapter 30: Hell Is Empty

Pesci watched as Ghiaccio and Formaggio hauled in more boxes from the delivery truck outside. He saw that each package was missing a return address.

No sender.

"Again? Who keeps sending these things?!?" Ghiaccio raged. "Who the fuck sends thirty-six goddamned packages with no return address?! Is this a fucking joke?!"

This was all too familiar. Pesci had a bad feeling in his stomach. He didn't like this.

"Don't open them," Pesci said.

"We need to know what they are," Illuso said. "Why are there so many?" Illuso and Melone cut them open and examined them carefully.

"They're frames. They're not paintings though," Melone commented.

"Is this some kind of modern art? There's something strange in them," Formaggio added.

"What I wanna know is who the fuck sent all these?" Ghiaccio snapped.

"No, no, no, no, no, no," Pesci panicked. He couldn't watch this again. It had left him sleepless for a month afterward. He didn't want to see Sorbet like that again. He looked around for Prosciutto for support but couldn't find him. He wasn't in the room.

"Wait, take them out of the frames and line them up," Risotto instructed. The squad began taking each blue block out of the picture frames.

"No! Don't do it!" He begged.

"Pesci, shut up!" Ghiaccio said as he took his two pieces and stacked them in a line.

"I can't see this again! I can't! Stop it!" Each piece slowly revealed a slender body. It wasn't the right structure to be Sorbet's. The toes had no nail polish on them.

Then he saw the scar on the bicep of the right arm that Pesci had witnessed being torn off.

He started crying.

"No! It's not, it can't be! He didn't do anything!"

The last few blocks were arranged and he saw Risotto fall to his knees as tears slipped down his face. He looked so sad. He'd never seen Risotto show any real emotion before, except towards the one now encased in formalin. 

The look of terror in Prosciutto's sliced up face made Pesci sob harder. His brother— the man that gave him purpose in this cruel world. The man that protected him, was his savior. Not even he was immune to the savage nature of the world they lived in.

He looked back to Risotto.

He loved Fra very much. He sobbed for Risotto, he sobbed for his team who had to witness all this again, and he sobbed for his fallen brother, the man who had given him everything.

A box sat at Pesci's feet. He reluctantly picked it up and opened it.

It was Prosciutto's necklace.

"FRATELLO!" Pesci screamed. A gunshot was heard somewhere in the house. Pesci looked up and saw Formaggio at the doorway of Risotto's room.

"Oh my god, Riz!" Formaggio yelled. Sometimes people can't handle things like that so they kill themselves because it's easier.

Just like Gelato.

Pesci cried as the scene faded.

You're useless, no one wants you on this team. They all hate you. A female voice spoke in his ear. You're nothing but a failure. A coward. Pesci believed the words and cried harder.

When he opened his eyes he saw Prosciutto standing in front of him. He looked angry. He smacked Pesci in the face.

"What the fuck are you crying about? Buck the hell up! You're so lame." That wasn't the first time Prosciutto had hit him but he hit everyone. He'd always done it when Pesci really needed to get his shit together. Pesci didn't like it but he understood it. He needed to get a grip.