Adriano's POV:
18 years ago:
"Adriano? Where are you dear?" asked my mother, Daphne Leonetti, as she wandered down the dark hallways of the manor. Huddled behind a couch that could easily hide my eight year old body, I waited for the witch to pass by.
"Adriano? You know it's not nice to make mommy angry. Don't make me have to search for you." she said with a soft sweet voice most mothers use toward their children. Except those mothers use it to express love and affection while mine uses it to threaten.
I was shaking and whimpering like a child does when they think that monsters are under their beds. Back then, I used to think how lucky those children were. While those supposed 'monsters' were just figments of their imagination mine was the real deal. It was alive and near.
"I'm going to give you to the count of three to show yourself Adriano before I find you myself." she said. Although the pitch of her voice had not changed, I could still hear the authority laced through her words.
"One..." she started as she walked closer and closer to my hiding place. The thud of her high heels against the wooden floor made her sound all the more frightening. My eyes widened and I tried desperately not to utter a sound that would give out my location.
"Two...." the sound of her heels coming to a complete slop alerted me that she had stopped walking. She was probably gazing around the room with a deathly glint in her eyes like she always does when I disobey her.
"Three."
Silence enveloped the room for a few moments before the clacking of her shoes resumed once again. The sudden death grip on my shirt made me lose my wits. Screaming, clawing, and crying had no effect. I was struggling from her grip, which had hoisted me up in the air.
"No! Let me go!" I screamed.
"You should have listened, dear. Now, mommy has to teach you a lesson. Such a bad boy." she said as she made her way to the black room. I shuddered in rememberance of what happened last time I was there.
"No!" I yelled as I started squirming against her grip.
"Quiet!" She barked as she back handed me across my face. I shrieked and moaned in pain, but instead of my mother feeling remorse or even sadness for inflicting such cruelty-like some mothers would- she felt the exact opposite. She felt pleasure.
"Oh, baby you don't know what you do to me." She moaned. When we were outside of the black room, she entered a password before being admitted in. All around the room were shelves full of various sex equipment, used for her and my father's private pleasure.
She dropped me on the ground with a thud before she turned around to lock the door. I crawled away from her as far as my little legs could take me. "Now, now Adriano. Don't make this hard on yourself like last time. Why don't you just listen to mommy like a good boy and maybe I won't be too hard on you."
"No! I don't want to do this because it always hurts!"
"Stop acting like a baby, Adriano and do what I tell you!"
"No!"
She walked over to me, dragged my body from the floor and backhanded me much harder across the face multiple times. "Undress right now before I give you a punishment much worse than this." she threatened. Clutching my reddened face, I did as she told me. Throughout the night, I was her personal play thing to let out all the 'stress', as she called it, out.
How could anyone believe that a mother would do this to her own child. To verbally, sexually, and mentally abuse her own child. Daphne Leonetti was scum.No, she was much worse than that. She was a monster.
If you believe my father was any different then you'd better think again because he wasn't. Marco Leonetti was no different from his wife, however, without the sexual abuse. He was a cheater and often resorted to physical and verbal abuse.
Throughout my youth I was subject to their hostility and then one day I just snapped. Unknowingly, I had divided myself into two separate beings with distinct personalities. Adrian; agressive and anger prone. Azelio; quiet, calm and reserved.
9 years ago:
"A-Adriano d-dont you dare!" shouted my mother as she miserably tried to escape from the chair with rope binding her and my father. I had already shot my father in the head, letting his blood seep from his head and down to the floor.
"What do you mean mother dearest? I was just hoping that you'd maybe help me relieve some stress."
"No! Just let me go -" she shrieked before I interrupted her.
"No? But why? If I remember clearly, that's exactly what I said to you all those years ago, but you didn't listen." I chuckled. "So why should I?"
"Because I'm your mother and as such should not be treated this way-" she began before I shot her in her arm. She screamed and the shrill gave me absolute pleasure.
"Oh," I moaned "you don't know what you do to me. Do you remember that? These were the exact words you said to me before you did the unforgivable! Now they've come back to bite you in the ass you disgusting wench!"
"Please-" she whimpered.
"Please? So you want more I see. You always did enjoy inflicting pain on others. Fine, I'll be right back to get more toys." Stepping out of the room, I went out into the hallway to roll in a cart that contained a motley amount of torturing weapons.
"No! Please Adriano!"
Ignoring her I said, "I'll give you to the count of three to choose the weapon that will end your life. One..." At that, she started to struggle against the rope.
"Two..."
"You can't do this to me! I'm your-"
"Three." I picked up a razor sharp saw and sliced off the arm I had previosly shot. She screamed once again. Her face was contorted in absolute pain as she glanced at the remnants of her left arm.
"Would you shut up! I'm trying to work here!" I yelled, but she continued. Sighing, I put down the bloodied saw on the cart and grabbed duct tape, nails and a hammer. Taping her mouth shut, I squatted down to her height.
"Remember that beautiful pearl necklace you lost all those years ago?" Muffled screaming was her response to the question. "Why don't I just make you a new one from these nails that I have here. I'm sure that it'll look great on your corpse." I said smiling.
Taking a nail from the pile, I angled it at her collarbone. "Mphhhhhh." she screamed. "Mother, would you please stop squirmimg. Don't you see that I'm trying to put on your necklace?" I had tapped the head of the nail twice before hammering it into her flesh. More screaming followed as I continued.
At the end, she was bloodied mess, but was still alive judging from her labored breathing against the tape. "Hmmm. What should I use next?" I thought aloud as I tapped on my chin. "Should I use these throwing knives? They could help me practice my aim. Should I just shoot you a billion times until your body is filled with holes? Dismemberment sounds good too?"
A weak whimper distracted me from my thoughts, making me turn around to glare at her. "No, I think I've got a better idea. I'll just sit here and watch until the light fades from your eyes. Yes. That sounds cruel enough." I chirped before I picked up another chair and placed it in front of my mother.
Throughout the last five minutes of her life, I had kept my eyes wide open, not wanting to miss her departure to death. Now that I think about it, I must have looked like a psychopath!
It's just nice to know that I'm not though. Right?
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