Vincent
Red.
The hue of fresh bloomed tulips in the spring after a day of rainfall.
Red.
The lipstick that stains a young woman's lips as she laughs the night away in the busy city.
Red.
The marker that is clutched in the chubby hands of a mischievous toddler as he scribbles on the living room walls.
Red.
The blood that cascades down Vincent's knuckles as he continuously beats the life out of the man lying at his mercy.
Red.
Taking over the monster's vision as the memory of his sweet savior's words replay over and over in his head.
"They...Th-They touched me, Vinnie."
Red.
"I-I tried to run away, b-but they were so-so strong."
Red.
"I'm so scared, Vinnie."
Red.
"Vinnie."
Red.
"Vincent!"
The man snapped out of his trance, whipping his head in the direction of the voice, glowering at Luca.
"We need him alive! He's the only one who knows where they are."
Luca didn't know why Vincent was so upset, but this was the first in a long time that he had seen him this angry. The freak of a man was known for his extremely short temper, but this time was different than the others. The burning in his eyes was more than that. It was the type of anger that boils from deep down inside your chest, scratching to get out and take over your entire body, the desire to kill slowly devouring your soul.
When Vincent became this demon every so often, that was when Luca truly feared for his life.
"Togli questo pezzo di merda dalla mia vista."
(Get this piece of shit out of my sight.)
Throwing one last punch onto the limp man's already broken nose, Vincent walks away, searching for another way to quench his need for blood.
"Vincent, wait!"
His steps slow to a stop as Luca puts a hand on his shoulder from behind him, a tired sigh escaping his mouth.
"Just...don't do anything stupid. Call me when you're good." Vincent merely grunts before exiting the run-down building and entering his car, his destination in already in mind. Not wasting any time, the vehicle withholding the deadly man speeds off into the night.
When I get my hand on those fuckers who hurt her, I'll make them wish they were dead.
Make them scream.
YOU ARE READING
𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓁𝓎𝓃
RomanceLife doesn't work out for everyone, and I've slowly come to accept that. I have learned that some things must be sacrificed in order to succeed, to live. But, is this really living? Is this really considered living when I have grown numb to everyt...
