“Don’t do it.” Dani sobs quietly against my other shoulder. “There has to be another way.”
“There’s not.” Antonio sniffles. “I’m ready.”
With his last two words, I feel his body relax in my embrace. The acceptance is washing over him, allowing him to give in to it, and I have to act now before the fear returns.
“I’m sorry.” I say to him, kissing the top of his head, then pulling him away from me just far enough to swing my right hand up, plunging the knife into his neck as hard as I can. “I’m so fucking sorry, kid.”
I push the blade into him so hard it lifts him off his feet, and my arm around him is the only thing that keeps him from flying backwards. It’s a brutal thrust, but necessary to ensure that the spinal cord is severed immediately, and the most merciful way to do it.
The air comes out of him in one rattling exhale as his eyes roll back and he slumps in my hold. He sinks against me, pinning my hand between our bodies and I press harder until the tip of the blade comes out the back of his neck, making sure he’s absolutely gone.
“Fuck man, I’m so sorry.” I say as his blood runs down my hand and arm all hot and wet, soaking into me, drenching my shirt and skin, mixing with the fake blood from Dani, making me look like a homicidal maniac.
I am one now though. A homicidal maniac. My guts are churning, and my temperature is through the roof. I want nothing else but to go on a rampage and slaughter everyone in my way. Everybody will pay, dearly, with every fiber of their lives for all of this, they can mark my words.
“Damien?” Dani whispers, as she buries her face in my shoulder, not wanting to look at what’s become of the kid and how he hangs off the knife still in my grip.
“It’s all done, baby.” I say to her, gently stepping away from her so she doesn’t fall, and I can put Antonio on the floor.
The knife pulls out smoothly as I lay him down, positioning him in a comfortable pose, his arms laid gently at his sides, his head tilted to the side. When I close his eyelids, I stand up, grab Dani, and kiss her hard on the lips, crushing them to my bloody ones, not even realizing when she took off her helmet. Fuck, everything is a fucking blur, and it’s about to get worse.
“I love you.” I say to her and push her back and away from me, leaving her standing over the corpses of the two men who used to be our friends.
“Don’t.” She cries, reaching out for me, but I bat her hand away and step another step back.
“It’s too late. The Reaper is coming for them all.”
Chapter
Twenty-Two
The sky is still a beautiful blue as I emerge alone from the bare bones building and the partial cover in the front of it. Beating down on me all hot, the sun burns my bald head with its mid-afternoon rays. The heat from it though is nothing compared to what’s inside of me. I’m an inferno of rage and it needs to come out before I erupt like the Yellowstone volcano, an ambient being way overdue to release its power. The destruction if I blow will be just as deadly if I don’t leak out my magma slowly on each individual who deserves it. Starting with Mister Michael Scarpino.
Luna is waiting for me where I left her, always the faithful and obedient girl, and she fires up on the first push of her ignition switch.
“Come on girl, we have work to do.” I say to her as I step over her, sitting on her sun warmed seat, not bothering to worry about transferring any of the bloody mess on my clothes to her.
She can be a mess just like me. As the stallion riding this Reaper into battle, she deserves a little war paint for herself anyways. It’s fitting, her blood orange and white paint symbolic of the blood I’ve spilled and will spill.
Flipping up her kickstand with my shoe, I rev her up and put her in gear, taking off into the direction of the blaring sun, heading back towards where we came and to the man who brought all of this shit into motion.
“I’m coming for you Michael.”
~~~
The Scarpino mansion sits back from the road, its perimeter lined by a towering wrought iron fence topped with barbed wire that circles around the vertical spokes. It looks like something from a horror film, with its castle-like appearance and the climbing ivy on the rolling gate in the front.
Normally the gate is closed and at least one guard is posted in the front, but as I pull up and idle in front of the property, it’s wide open and unmanned.
“Expecting me?” I laugh to myself as I look down the long, black driveway up to the house and the fountain of a cherub with a waterpot in the turnabout. “That water is going to run red by the time I’m done here.”
The anger hasn’t lessened on the ride over, it’s only intensified, and as I ride up the driveway, rev bombing Luna to announce my arrival, I close my eyes and prepare for the destruction that’s about to begin.
I’m unarmed except my blade, and will have to improvise, but that’s okay. I’ve never backed down before and I’m sure as shit aren’t going to start anytime soon.
“Michael!” I holler as I park under the covered entrance, the fountain to my left, the house to my right.
I know he won’t hear me. He’s probably in bed, wasting away like the piece of shit he is. But his men will, and I’m counting on it.
