UnknownDelicious sounds danced their way into my ear, touching every corner of the studio and giving me a high. That was one reason psychedelic rock was my favorite. It was a safe drug. I didn't have to worry about any health problems or the police. Apart from my sweet, juicy music, a nice warm male voice streamed from the laptop on the table. I was at a point in my life where I questioned my sexuality. I'd thought I was straight; however, a lot made it seem otherwise. A lot like now when I cherished the voice I heard. It was deep, strong, an epitome of masculinity…Okay, I wouldn't fool myself any more. I wasn't attracted to the voice, but the message that was delivered instead. It, together with my hallucinatory music put me on top of the world. "Flight 224JF of Gaspare Moreno Airway suffered a bomb attack this afternoon. The flight which was destined for Bangkok was the target for a suicide bomber. Many are feared dead; others in critical condition. Cherry Hilton joins us live
Vincenzo MorenoMy eyes glided across the screen of my phone. It was nothing other than a lecture slide that stared back at me. It'd been so for a while: me, buried in a book. I didn't think the status quo would change.When I wasn't reading, I slept, or ate, or did what my battered mind thought up. Anything except thinking about the pack house. Sometimes, that line of thought was unavoidable, especially when I'd studied for a long time. You know, the occasional mind drift. I handled this by taking a break and running my feet across the carpet. Its soft, feathery feel helped to keep me at ease. Contrary to what I'd believed, I still had an eye for my academics. Last week's happenings hadn't affected my zeal; hence I had been studying off my ass in preparation for mid semester tests.A knock sounded. Ignoring it at first, I was forced to speak when it came again."I've had dinner," I grumbled, wondering why the maid was disturbing me. "Hey, it's me." Michele. I rolled my eyes; the
Vincenzo MorenoVial di Moreno stretched ahead. As always, monstrous looking. Not even the enchanting hands of spring could transform it. I glanced across the windshield, taking in the long array of olive trees to the patchy shadow cast in the floor by the leaves, to the far end of the boulevard—showcasing a glimpse of the pack house. That haunting yellow building. The day was bright. It could turn hellishly dark in some minutes. Pressing on the gas pedal, I crept in. The only thing I consciously did, apart from driving, was to hold my breath. Whatever happened in the next three minutes or so, I'd remain strong. Not exactly for myself, but someone. The worst wouldn't happen to me; rather her. And that was why I'd come. To stay by her side and defend. I'd take the full responsibility and further spite Madre. I'd make Rina understand that I was serious. I meant it when I'd said she mattered to me. We would figure out a way out of this weird pregnancy thing. Getting to the main entra
RINAThree months later…The view outside was intimidating. Large expanse of uncultivated land, mountain backdrops and hard rugged terrain.Having your loved one with you could help a lot. It made a great deal of difference. For you, safety was sure, and the evil inherent in the world ceased to exist. I shrugged. Mammà's presence always made me forget we were in the middle of nowhere. And likewise my presence to her. I wasn't freaked out at night when it was eerily quiet and my body forced me up for a pee or a late-hour snack. Dark halls didn't scare me anymore; and so was being in isolation. I'd forgotten what going out was. Running errands, racing to class, seeing similarly dressed persons —all those were now alien. And I was okay with it, as the smile on my face showed. Mammà was the reason. The cheerful future was too. A tear dropped as I looked down, inevitably meeting my protruding belly. I was three months and two weeks gone, a stone throw from being free forever. I rais
Rina ZanteFiona's son had dropped me off just at the station. I needn't say much for Fiona to make that arrangement. My ruse was to see a relative of mine who'd kicked against my supposed relationship with Andrea. I wanted to patch things up. My wishes had been granted—only that there was no relative, and here I was roaming around the streets of Villa-in-Pietra, a town four hours from Florence, with no hope of a place to lay my head, let alone food. And I was extremely hungry. Fiona had said Bologna was three hours away… I couldn't say. Maybe that was a slip of the tongue. Villa-in-Pietra. I couldn't believe it: the extent Luna could go in preserving her image. She'd separated Mamma and me from the rest of the world— a stone-faced guard, as our only company. I couldn't say I totally faulted Luna. I mean, she must be living her worst nightmare. Her son had laid with a maid, claiming she was his mate. Wow fuckety wow, if I were Papà. Such a revelation. Such a twist. And the fool
Vincenzo MorenoHer room was a brown monochrome. Fairly furnished and with large panel windows. I couldn't stop myself from wondering if every therapist's office was this way. Depressing. Dr. Yolanda edged close and handed me a cup of coffee. "I'm going to be honest with you," she said while lowering to her seat. "I'm glad you called."Her gaze spoke volumes. She expected me to lay my worries bare—my greatest pet peeve. However I had no choice. I wanted none of these anymore: torn away from Rina, waking up miserable, and being in exile. "Do you want to talk about it?" I stroked my thumb over the handle of the cup, then sent the hot beverage sliding down my throat. "How much time do I have?" I asked. "Forty five minutes, but I'm willing to make it an hour."Why? Because I'd make an interesting study?My focus laid on the coffee as I mentally prepped myself to talk."I want all this to end. I just want to wake up and see this as part of the past." A short pause followed. "I don'
Rina ZanteBit by bit, the wardrobe came into view. I fixed my eyes at it for a while before finally heaving up. My arms bore the under of my belly. A huge yawn left my mouth. I was tired, even though the sleep had been long and peaceful. Then again, I didn't see myself fancying the idea of taking another nap. My gaze moved to the curtains. It was well lit. A clock hanging next to it stated the morning had long started. Some minutes to nine. Off to the bathroom, I couldn't say what would become of today. One thing was sure, however, I'd be out of town in a short while. As I brushed, a thought materialized. It was one that widened the soft spot that'd been attached to my heart ever since my belly became visible. The bathroom sink had inspired the thought. It looked just as cozy as the tub in my dream. Clean in its pale blue color and adorned with cloud patterns around. The dream had been lucid; I could remember details of it. The babies had been having their bath. Just me with the
UnknownA four lettered bitch. Something cruel and unfair. A tyrant who everyone feared. None questioned it. None could challenge it to a fight. That was what life was. Life wanted me to be like everyone. Accepting the shit it threw my way with open arms. It was an absolute impossibility for me to succumb because none of it made sense. How was it that one was favored, and the other person disposed of like garbage? Alessio Salvatore wasn't better than me. He hadn't been taller nor with more powers. In actual fact, we both—like other babies—had been born with zero abilities. He hadn't been more facially endowed, nor blessed with an angelic cry. We'd both had the potential to keep our parents up at night with our wails. Yet, he'd been chosen over me simply because he'd been the first to arrive. I had been seen as the lazy one. Belief had it that I still was attached to the other world, and so would have a negative impact on the true born and everyone around me.They hadn't blinked be
EPILOGUE Vincezo Moreno They were removing her off life support today. Jaw clenched, straight went my gaze. At infinity. Thunder droned at a distance. Clouds, gray, were laden with rain. It'd fallen all night. I'd taken an early morning flight, fortunately, and so, had been able to make it here. I didn't know if I should be comforted that nature empathized with me. Mourning along with me. Or I should break more, knowing that Rina had been to be next Luna, the reason why the skies mourned her imminent exit. I gave out heavy, fervent sobs, fishing out some tissue from the armrest. I wept into it. No. Grief hadn't left. It never would. As long as I lived, this was what I'd be: a grieving man. Wiping my nose, I set out to the pearl white walls of Andrea Filemone International Hospital. My fingers curved around the tiny velvety box. I held back the tears till I got to ICU: Room 4 and shut the door behind. The heart monitor beeped. My Rina still laid like a corpse on the bed, not d
Vincenzo MorenoDay 3: post operation. White stark walls moved behind as I was wheeled into ICU: room 4. My system was asleep, with just my ears acknowledging the clomp of feet on the floor, muddled chatters and the squeal the wheelchair had as it rolled on along the tiled floor.The nurse pushed in the door. My heart throbbed the instant I spotted her. It wasn't good for my recovery, as the doctor had said; I didn't care. I couldn't, not when she was involved. Something washed over me. Hurt that clawed at my core. The nurse placed me next to her and left. I lifted a hand, then placed it on Rina's. My cloudy eyes moved to her face.It was unbelievable, so much, because I'd thought I'd lost her. Almost pushed to tears, I kissed her hand—my eyes shut tight as I communicated using my mind. We'd converse this way until she recovered.I cannot believe it: I'm holding you. You are here with me, life and direct. There's so much that's to be said. So much I should let out that I have th
Vincenzo Moreno When I'd gotten a text from Alessio, I hadn't done the expected. Rather than steam with rage, I shut my eyes in relief, for it was all over. I would get Rina at long last and eliminate that son of a bitch.I'd gone straight to Padre and stood my ground. I'd venture into the jungle of Valle del Teschio. It'd been clear Padre was too interested in the whereabouts of the moon statue to see the emergency at hand. He'd been too distracted to think clearly. And not only that. This was my fight. My mess. And only I could clean it up. Nearly twenty-four hours down the line, I was marching into the unwelcoming forest, accompanied by an army of soldiers. The only thing I saw good about my pack was the level of organization it showed. The soldiers who were armed to the teeth were proof. They made up the emergency tactical unit. Always on their feet at the snap of the finger. The undergrowth impeded our movement; our determination was the driving force that kept us going. The
Rina ZanteFire crackled in the background. It was one marker that showed the girl on the floor, whose legs laid sprawled and eyes closed, was alive. That, together with the occasional forcing of air into her nostrils. I hadn't seen my period in months; so the growing pain around my belly felt strange. It'd started yesterday with just a dull throbbing. Now, it came more frequently, resembling my period with its undulating intensity. A low and a high. At the onset, I'd worried something was wrong with the babies. And even as I'd figured what could be amiss, dread sank deep into my bones—chilling my blood. It wasn't supposed to happen now. I pressed my teeth into my upper lip as the painful wave waltzed across. It wasn't supposed to happen now. A tear of heartbreak escaped. I couldn't have the babies here. Not now. My heart wept out of disappointment. I'd had faith the moon goddess would come through for me. I'd been in Central Temple, in my dream, happy like never before as I ca
Leonardo (Alessio)Everywhere was soaked in green. Even the air. It oozed of the scent of herbs. I got out of the car, which was something I'd looked forward to since the journey began. Not just because my bones ached, but also the car had been suffocating in the figurative sense of it, and till now, I couldn't explain how or why I was subject to guilt. Leaves rustled and twigs snapped from the weight of my feet as I trudged ahead, stopping in front of a beastly truck. This was our new home for the meantime. Until we got to the endgame. The hood bore dust and leaves laid strewn over its surface extending to the bottom rim of the windshield, bringing to my notice a poster of Mario Domenico—a well-known survivalist. A wooden wall was mounted at the tail region of the car. The wall formed a convex hood above the windshield. I went to the side of the truck for further inspection. There was a door, a pigeonhole notched close to the back tyre, a large window towards the back. And a ch
Vincenzo MorenoI forced open the door, cutting Dr. Yolanda short. "See it now? They've fucking succeeded."Initially taken aback, Dr. Yolanda sent her gaze to the receptionist standing beside me, eliciting an explanation for why I had barged in from the dumb girl. Dr. Yolanda didn't show she was mad. Rather, she waved the receptionist away, turning to me. "I'm currently having a session, Vincenzo.""This is a matter of life and death. Definitely it's worth looking into with immediate effect." She paused, eyes fixed at me, and pressed back against her swivel chair. "What is it?"I frowned. "Yes. What is it?""You don't expect me to talk…now." I looked at the client seated across from her. "So, it's private. Surely, it isn't something too pressing you can't spare some minutes." I glared at her, the intensity almost lethal. Yet, she held my gaze, not at all intimidated. "Go on, Vincenzo. The longer you stand there, the less your chances of meeting with me." After several seco
UnknownA four lettered bitch. Something cruel and unfair. A tyrant who everyone feared. None questioned it. None could challenge it to a fight. That was what life was. Life wanted me to be like everyone. Accepting the shit it threw my way with open arms. It was an absolute impossibility for me to succumb because none of it made sense. How was it that one was favored, and the other person disposed of like garbage? Alessio Salvatore wasn't better than me. He hadn't been taller nor with more powers. In actual fact, we both—like other babies—had been born with zero abilities. He hadn't been more facially endowed, nor blessed with an angelic cry. We'd both had the potential to keep our parents up at night with our wails. Yet, he'd been chosen over me simply because he'd been the first to arrive. I had been seen as the lazy one. Belief had it that I still was attached to the other world, and so would have a negative impact on the true born and everyone around me.They hadn't blinked be
Rina ZanteBit by bit, the wardrobe came into view. I fixed my eyes at it for a while before finally heaving up. My arms bore the under of my belly. A huge yawn left my mouth. I was tired, even though the sleep had been long and peaceful. Then again, I didn't see myself fancying the idea of taking another nap. My gaze moved to the curtains. It was well lit. A clock hanging next to it stated the morning had long started. Some minutes to nine. Off to the bathroom, I couldn't say what would become of today. One thing was sure, however, I'd be out of town in a short while. As I brushed, a thought materialized. It was one that widened the soft spot that'd been attached to my heart ever since my belly became visible. The bathroom sink had inspired the thought. It looked just as cozy as the tub in my dream. Clean in its pale blue color and adorned with cloud patterns around. The dream had been lucid; I could remember details of it. The babies had been having their bath. Just me with the
Vincenzo MorenoHer room was a brown monochrome. Fairly furnished and with large panel windows. I couldn't stop myself from wondering if every therapist's office was this way. Depressing. Dr. Yolanda edged close and handed me a cup of coffee. "I'm going to be honest with you," she said while lowering to her seat. "I'm glad you called."Her gaze spoke volumes. She expected me to lay my worries bare—my greatest pet peeve. However I had no choice. I wanted none of these anymore: torn away from Rina, waking up miserable, and being in exile. "Do you want to talk about it?" I stroked my thumb over the handle of the cup, then sent the hot beverage sliding down my throat. "How much time do I have?" I asked. "Forty five minutes, but I'm willing to make it an hour."Why? Because I'd make an interesting study?My focus laid on the coffee as I mentally prepped myself to talk."I want all this to end. I just want to wake up and see this as part of the past." A short pause followed. "I don'