Becoming Vincenzo's

"Run Vin, run!! Do not allow your father see you, run and hide!" She screamed as she took her first son, heading out of the door to return, rushing to return him to the dark room she had brought him out of, against her husband's orders.

Vincent did not know what to do, his legs were shaky as he stood watching his mother run away with Martin his elder brother, rushing to return him to the dark room before his father, whose car engine sounds could be heard, would return to the fortress.

Vin's brother, Martin was the heir. His father always drummed it into his mom's ears but she never wanted to hear of it.

She never wanted to watch her son go through a tumultuous childhood all in the name of raising him to become a ruthless Mafia, but she could do nothing no matter what brutal training he was subjected to.

sometimes when her husband was out of town, she occasionally brought him out of the dark room and made him interact with his brother, while also feeding him from dishes she made, since everything he did in the dark room was controlled by the nanny who reported back to her husband, the Don Martinelli.

Vin rushed beneath the sofa in the large living room and hid under one of it.

He covered his ears. It wouldn't be long before he'd hear the shooting of guns.

The nanny who had let his mother bring Martin out of the dark room would be shot soon, and his blood would stain the cold marble floor of their home.

The other nannies would be brought out and flogged till they fainted too, because none of them did anything to stop her from bringing him out.

He could not imagine the fate his mother would encounter this time around.

She has brought him out once before. That was months after he was taken to the dark room when he turned five.

Their father had found out and he had one of her fingers chopped off, right in front of him.

He also made Vincent sit on a bathtub filled with boiled water, since he joined them at the dining they ate on.

Still lost in thoughts, Vincent's senses were called back when he heard the sound of the door being pushed open with an extreme force.

The next he heard were gunshots, the pleas of women and that of the male nanny who blamed his mother for forcing him to opening the door.

Martinelli did not hear any of it and he shot all of them, leaving room for no mercy towards aby of them.

Next he walked out.

Vincent thought it was all over and crawled on his belly to come out of the sofa he was underneath, but when he heard his mother's voice, he retreated.

No matter how hard he tried to cover his ear, he could still hear his mom screaming and crying and pleading with her husband for mercy.

His heart ached for her and he began to cry from where he was, covering his mouth with his hands, which made him let out muffled sounds.

He wondered why she had married him. He was not a good husband and caused only pain and agony to her and her children.

He recalled how happy his mother had always being when they were in Venice.

He and Martin were always the happiest even though they were just children.

Their lives were happy and worthwhile until when their father found them and brought them back to his mansion doubling as a fortress in Italy.

That was when he learnt why his mother had always been running and traveling with them, even though they lacked nothing.

They were always moving to places, renting new apartments, hiding in villages.

His father was a Mafia Lord. One of the richest and biggest in Italy. No one challenged his power and authority. He was the biggest in the whole of Italy, but he was a bad husband and a bad father and he made bad decisions with how he trained his children, even though he might not see it as such.

His children hated him, even though they never showed him for fear of being punished, or made to watch their mother being punished because of their rebellion.

Vincent felt his legs being pulled. He thought he was dreaming but when he tried to free his legs from the grip holding them, he realized that he had been found.

He held on to the hem of the sofa as he got overpowered and pulled out of them.

"Father please spare me" he began sobbing.

Martinelli clenched his huge hands around his two tiny arms and began to drag him.

"Not him Martinelli, punish me instead, please spare my Vin. Please don't do anything to him" he saw his mother holding on to his legs as he walked past where she laid.

" Mother!!" He screamed, looking at his mother sprawled on the floor, her body covered with bruises he could not tell where they came from.

"Mom, mommmm" he continued crying as he got dragged past her.

"Vin, oh my Vin" she continued screaming and crying, seeing her powerless she was and how she was unable to help her son.

"Let me go father, where are you taking me to?!! Let me go!!" She shouted on top of his voice.

Martinelli slapt him which made him keep quiet for a few minutes.

He brought him into his living room and advanced to the bathroom where he made him sit.

" What are you going to do to me father? Please spare me. I'll do whatever you tell me to from now on, please spare me"

Shifting the faucet, Martinelli made water pour into the the bathtub till it was reaching the half of it's brim.

" Father please let me go, I'd obey you from now on" unaware of what he wanted to do to him.

He watched as he left him in the bathtub. He dared not step out for fear of attracting more woes to himself.

He watched his father come back with something in his hand.

He watched him plug it into the socket that was at he wall.

He watched as he brought it closer to the bathtub, unaware of what he wanted to do with it.

He dropped it into the bathtub and made way to switch on the socket.

Vin screamed. He had never felt anything like it before, he screamed and felt his senses leaving him.

Minutes later, he felt the pain subsiding.

He opened his eyes, the water had been drained out as well, and the material his father had put in the water had been removed.

"Come on out" his father commanded..

He felt his heart shatter but did not show it, lest be be subjected to another punishment for showing emotions.

He held himself and climbed out even though his legs shaked and he could feel no strength in them, he climbed out.

His mother could be punished if he showed his emotions or showed the pains he felt, he held himself no matter how it hurt him, following his father back to the living room.

As he came out, he could hear the screams of Martin.

Perhaps he was being given the same punishment too, or maybe his father instructed them to give him the hot water punishment ---occasionally pouring very boiled water on any part of his body.

They walked out of the passage and Vin could not help but wonder.

No one ever punished his father, he killed and killed but no one ever had him punished. He was like a god.

The bodies he had shot before had all being removed already. It was just a few minutes difference.

They would be taken to the incinerator where they'd be burnt to ashes. Or further still, dismembered and fed to the wild dogs he raised in his farmstead.

Sometimes he instructed them to be dissolved using acid, after which he had the liquids thrown into the sea.

No one ever found out, he was always successful in all his dealings.

Vin felt like torture when he found his mother cleaning the blood stained marble floor even with all the wounds on her body.

He looked at his father who feigned ignorance.

He watched him as he removed his tie and coat, after which he went to sit on a couch.

He watched as a stripper walked in, half naked and walked up to him at the couch.

His father carried her in his arms and began to kiss her, his mom Meyers away from them, scrubbing the dried blood out of the marble floor.

Vincent's hands formed a fist, the hate in his heart burned him as he thought of how to avenge his mom.

Hiding the pain he felt, he walked to where his mother was, offering to help her clean up.

Her eyes met his, and a tear fell from hers.

She failed him, she failed them, she had failed her children.

Vincent cleaned her tears fearing that his father might find out.

Instead he smiled at her. He was going to make them pay.

He was going to wipe away her tears.