51

Faust

I often dreamed of blood.

I laugh at it, filling my mouth and choking me. Drowning myself and everyone I cared about, with no hope of survival.

The dreams began when I was a soldier, still being groomed under my father's watchful eye. Back then, the boss's son didn't get a pass on the most gruesome tasks. No, they used these tasks to harden me, to transform me from a boy into a man.

A man capable of leading the most dangerous mafia in the world. A

'Ndrangheta.

There was no choice for me, no other life to consider. Over the years, I followed instructions and never dared to show a hint of weakness. Torture and killing became second nature to me, a job I learned to love. This earned me the respect of my brothers

'ndrina and the fear of my enemies. Whispers followed me wherever I went, stories of my cruelty spread far and wide.

This made my father proud.

He told me this many times, especially after seeing me at my worst. They called him when I was too anxious with my knife, the blo