I woke up to screams tearing through the silence.
My eyes opened to a gray morning, though the sun had yet to rise.
The screech of iron doors split the stillness as they stormed in like a violent gust.
They gave us no time to stand, no chance to speak.
Rough hands seized us, dragging us out of the cell one by one as if we were discarded objects.
I tried to plant my feet on the ground, but their grip was far stronger than my small body.
They led us into a room larger than the previous one ,the only difference was its vast emptiness, as though it had been built to swallow our screams whole.
Then he appeared.
His footsteps alone were enough to sicken me.
Those merciless eyes swept over us as though already selecting a victim.
He looked every bit the master of this place he needed no shouts to enforce his presence; his very existence suffocated us.
He halted in the center of the room, and his voice cracked the silence like thunder:
"Today ,I want results anyone who fails will face a severe punishment."
Some of the children around me trembled; I swallowed hard.
I still didn't know what "results" he meant, but one thing was certain
This day would not pass quietly.
Another man stepped forward with slow, deliberate strides.
He seemed calmer than the leader, but his tone carried no trace of mercy.
"I am Henry and from today, I will be your instructor."
There was no kindness in his features only the unsettling calm before a storm.
"Now ,everyone, choose an opponent to fight."
His voice was steady, unquestionable.
"I'll be your opponent."
The words came from a blonde girl standing right before me, her gaze unwavering.
She raised her hands, eyes locked with mine. Without hesitation, she shoved me and landed a punch square on my face, sending me crashing to the ground.
She leaned close, her voice sharp:
"Why aren't you fighting back?"
I glanced around everyone else was fighting with ferocity, as though they had always been enemies, mercy nowhere to be found.
I turned back to the blonde girl, hesitating.
"Do we really have to fight?"
"Yes ,if you want to live."
"Fight, boy!" Henry's shout cut through the chaos.
I scrambled to my feet, nerves tightening in my chest.
I whispered to myself: I have to fight.
I raised my hand, and she raised hers to get ready.
She lunged first, but by sheer chance I dodged her initial strike.
She caught me with a punch, yet I managed to kick her back, knocking her down.
Henry's voice boomed:
"You've lost."
Two men came forward at once, gripping me as though I had committed an unforgivable crime.
I turned my head toward the blonde girl her face was heavy with sorrow, not triumph. She hadn't wanted this any more than I did.
They dragged me away, her gaze still fixed on me even as the distance grew.
I was thrown into a bare room.
Nothing there but a chair, stained with old blood, a silent witness to the violence before me.
On the wall, I noticed faint scratches letters carved by trembling hands.
"I want to escape."
My body shivered.
Fear filled my chest, heavy and suffocating. I suddenly realized I was in real danger with no way out.
Henry burst into another room, handing a paper to the man they all called Dante the leader.
"Sir Dante, I've gathered information about the new boy."
Dante's eyes skimmed the paper, brows slowly rising.
"He's the son of William De Luca!"
Henry whispered excitedly, "The son of the greatest mafia boss in all of Cazalini."
Dante's cold, sharp eyes gleamed with interest. He barked:
"Where is the boy now?"
"In the punishment room," Henry replied coolly.
A small smile curved Dante's lips.
"Take me to him."
The door screeched open.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and three people entered: Henry, the trickster, and their leader, Dante.
"Stand, boy" Dante's said .
I stood quickly, but before I could move further, he grabbed my face roughly, crushing my cheek in his hand. My breath caught.
His merciless eyes drilled into me.
"Is your father William De Luca?"
I shook my head hesitantly, dread freezing in my veins.
"Where is he now?" he pressed, his voice sharper.
I whispered through the pain, "Dead."
He hurled me to the floor, bellowing:
"William is dead!"
Then he laughed a mad, echoing laugh that filled the room.
My body froze, fear and confusion flooding me.
He towered above me, his words heavy as stone:
"From now on, you belong to me. You'll eat when I say. You'll speak when I command. You'll walk only where I go."
That was the beginning of my chains.
Hours dragged by in suffocating silence.
No one came.
Pain gnawed at my stomach, my throat parched like a desert.
Hunger carved into me mercilessly.
I shut my eyes, wishing for home for the safety I'd lost long ago.
Wishing the nightmare would end, even for a moment.
But as I drifted into heavy sleep, a shock of cold water splashed down on my head.
I gasped, jolting upright. "What's happening?"
A cruel laugh echoed, bouncing off the walls.
"Get up the boss is waiting."
It was that sly man again, his grin dripping with malice.
To him, this was nothing but a game, and I was just his toy.
Dripping wet, I trudged through the dark corridor, water trailing from my hair.
That's when I saw her again the blonde girl. She stood beside Henry, her face unreadable, hiding whatever storm brewed inside.
Our eyes met for a heartbeat, then she quickly looked away, unwilling to betray her thoughts.
Henry's sharp gesture cut the silence. We walked together, footsteps echoing until we reached where Dante awaited ,my fate looming with him.
"Sir Dante, we're ready," Henry announced with restrained respect.
Dante approached, confident, a small pistol gleaming in his hand.
He stopped before me, studying my face as though reading into my soul.
Then he handed me the weapon.
His voice was cold as death:
"Listen, son of William ,We live by one law.
There is no place for failure.
I hate failures.
And failures deserve death."
The words crushed me like a weight pressing down on my chest.
My fingers trembled as they closed around the gun.
Dante lifted his hand and pointed toward the blonde girl.
His lips twisted into a mysterious smile.
"See her? She's the strongest we have. Today, she'll teach you how to fight."
"Where are we going?" I asked hesitantly, my fear slipping into my voice.
Before I could blink, Dante's hand cracked across my face in a brutal slap, heat searing into my cheek.
The taste of blood filled my mouth.
His wild eyes bore into me as he growled:
"Didn't I say? You don't speak unless I give you permission!"
He turned to the blonde girl, his tone sharp:
"Teach him everything."
His word was final. No debate.
She nodded silently, while my heart pounded against my ribs.
We followed Dante outside the compound, his stride steady, unshaken.
I walked behind him, uncertain where he was leading us.
The silence held until we reached a rocky cliff, overlooking a lonely hut at the base of the mountain.
Dante stopped, eyes cold as stone, then pointed toward the hut.
"We're here for a mission. See that bald man? He's our target."
My voice trembled. "What am I supposed to do?"
The blonde girl answered instead, her tone calm, unwavering:
"Henry will deal with him. We're storming the hut."
Henry readied his gun with a metallic click. His words were sharp.
"Let's move."
The girl glanced at me, her green eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Don't you dare hesitate."
Her steadiness pulled my gaze, and before I could stop myself, I asked softly:
"By the way, what's your name?"
She sighed, exasperated that I'd chosen this moment.
"Really? Now?"
Then, as if tossing away a burden, she muttered:
"Armenda. And you?"
I smiled faintly. "I'm—"
But Henry's raised hand signaled us forward, cutting my words short. We descended the rocky slope, loose stones scattering beneath our feet. The hut loomed closer with each step.
Henry's hand lifted again.
We froze ,his voice came in a low command:
"I'll take the bald one. You two stay sharp. No mistakes."
My chest heaved. My heart thundered.
Armenda leaned close, whispering coldly:
"Don't even think of freezing up."
Henry crept to the door and shoved it open. It screeched loudly.
We entered, my hands trembling, breath broken.
In one swift motion, Henry raised his gun. A bullet cracked the air, piercing straight through the bald man's head.
The body collapsed, blood spreading across the wooden floor.
I stood frozen, unable to breathe, unable to look away.
Henry turned, eyes sharp.
"Now it's your turn. Watching isn't enough."
Suddenly, a man burst from a side room, knife flashing as he charged.
Armenda moved faster than I thought humanly possible. A single shot clean, precise struck him through the chest. He fell instantly. Silence returned.
Henry crouched by the bald man's corpse, searching his clothes, pulling out a gun, a wallet, and small trinkets of use.
And then
I felt cold steel press against my head.
"Don't move," a voice snarled behind me.
A man had appeared from nowhere, gun digging into my skull.
"Who are you?" he barked. His eyes flicked to Henry's hand, and recognition dawned.
"You're ,Black Beasts."
Henry's lips curved into a cold smile. In an instant, his gun fired bullet tearing through the man's hand. He screamed.
Henry shoved me away.
"You and Armenda take the wooden chest outside!"
We ran to the chest. It was heavy, unbearably so. My muscles burned, sweat stinging my face.
"This chest cannot be damaged, no matter what," Armenda warned, her eyes sharp with urgency.
I grunted, struggling. "Why is it so heavy?"
Behind us, Henry's gun pressed back against the wounded man. His voice was ice.
"Too late for you."
But the man smiled darkly, pulling a small orb from his chest. A thread snapped free.
Henry's eyes widened danger surged through the room.
In the next heartbeat, Henry grabbed both of us, dragging us out the door.
The explosion roared, fire swallowing the hut in a single breath. The ground shook beneath us, flames painting the night sky.
Henry's face was grim.
"The cargo is lost!"
"No!" I shouted, pointing to the chest we'd hauled out.
"We saved it!"
Relief lit his face, a rare joy gleaming in his eyes.
"Well done, both of you!"
But the celebration was short-lived. The blast had drawn others. Four armed men appeared, surrounding us, eyes brimming with violence.
Henry raised his guns, standing before us like a shield. Two pistols now, one in each hand.
He fired first, dropping the man behind him, then charged forward like a storm no one could stop.
One attacker lunged toward us. Armenda intercepted but was struck down, crashing to the ground.
Before he could reach me, I raised my trembling hands, squeezed the trigger.
The bullet tore through his shoulder.
I froze, staring my first shot.
My first wound. My body locked, my soul cracking under the weight.
The man recovered, fury burning in his eyes. He kicked me, again and again. My face, my ribs, my body screamed with every strike.
Armenda grabbed his leg from the ground, trying to stop him. He turned on her, rage blazing.
But I rose, bloodied and shaking, gun still in my hands.
"Leave her!" I shouted, voice raw.
The man sneered. "Such courage, little boy." He wrenched the gun from me, smashing it against my face. Pain exploded, ringing in my ear, the world spinning.
Then
A bullet cut through the man's head. Silence.
Henry stood there, breathing hard, guns still smoking. His eyes were stern, but relief glimmered faintly.
He placed a hand on my shoulder, softer than I'd ever seen from him.
"Rest now, boy."
My strength collapsed. Darkness swallowed me.
When we returned to the compound, the darkness swallowed me whole.
Days passed in the silent, suffocating room. No one came but the sly man, tossing a glass of water and a piece of bread at me with icy indifference, as if I were nothing but a worthless creature.
A week went by before the doors finally opened. When I stepped out, I discovered Armenda had vanished on one of her missions. No one spoke of her fate, as if she had never existed.
From that moment, everything inside me changed. I was no longer the trembling child. I became a machine, moving without soul.
A scar etched across my face, my left ear deaf forever but the greater loss was my heart.
I endured brutal training, mastering combat and gunfire with deadly precision. I became what they wanted: a merciless killer, a tool to achieve their goals.
Slowly, I began to forget myself.
Why was I here? Who was I?
Returning from a mission, hands drenched in blood, I collapsed in the dark room, staring at its bleak ceiling without purpose.
Then, a strange voice broke the silence, as if someone had sat beside me without my noticing:
"Do you like sitting like this, soulless?"
"Who are you?" I croaked, eyes scanning the darkness.
The voice was calm, tinged with mischief.
"Who I am doesn't matter, What matters is I'm here to wake you up."
My heart trembled. I clung to the last shreds of my consciousness.
"What do you mean?" I whispered.
"Tired of all this, aren't you?" The voice pierced my bones. "Do you enjoy being known as a killer, just a tool in their hands?"
I lay back, eyes fixed on the dark ceiling.
"There's nothing I can do " I muttered bitterly.
The voice chuckled slyly.
"No ,There is. You've changed now. Ten years in this hell have passed. You're no longer the crying child they underestimated your strength. You are stronger than they think."
I closed my eyes, silent for a moment, yet my heart began pounding with unfamiliar intensity.
"I've forgotten ,I've forgotten who I am, forgotten my name."
My voice echoed in the narrow room, a final confession before complete erasure.
The figure in the shadows smiled.
"It's fine. Rebuild yourself. You don't need the past."
I rose slowly, feeling my heavy legs free from invisible chains. I reached for the mask I had crafted a cold piece of iron and wood, yet it held all my pain.
"I think it's time to make them pay."
The voice clapped softly, tone a mix of mockery and admiration.
"Yes, exactly. That's the spirit we need."
My hair had grown long. I took a rusty dagger, splitting it haphazardly. Then I lifted the mask, placing it carefully over my face.
I stared into the eyes reflected in the shattered metal mirror.
"My name" A pause cut through my chest.
"My name is Mildo."
The figure's eyes sparkled in the darkness.
"I like that, Mildo. I'm Luca."
I slowly lifted the bed, retrieving a small bag I had hidden for years. Inside: an old pistol and hand grenades, stolen piece by piece from previous missions, hidden as one hides their heart.
I gripped the weapon. The cold metal sent a pulse of life through me. I turned to Luca in the corner.
"Luca, will you help me?"
He chuckled lightly, voice echoing as if he owned the place.
"What kind of question is that? Of course."
I handed him one of the pistols or at least, that's what I thought.
Grenades were strapped to my waist, pistol secured.
"It's time."
We opened the door silently, slipping through shadowed corridors. Our steps barely audible. Midnight cloaked everything. The Black Beasts slept, unaware that one of their victims had decided to become an executioner.