Rina ZanteI readjusted my head on Mamma's shoulder, receiving her gentle caress across my lap.The nausea and dizziness had long died; though I still felt weak. Whatever the problem was, my senses had been activated. Particularly that of smell. I'd found it difficult to have breakfast. Minus the nausea, the smell of baked beans and sausage had reeked. They'd filled my nostrils. "Miss Zante?" the nurse called, drawing my attention and signaling my turn to see the doctor. Mammà helped me up. Joining hands with her, we walked over to the room across. A middle aged man welcomed us with a smile. Doctor Mario Tommaso as written on a plaque, on the table. He ushered us into our seats, and still carrying a smile, he asked, "How can I help you?""It's my daughter. She woke up feeling unwell," Mamma said. The doctor's eyes swept to me. Without him speaking, I stated my case. Told him almost everything, reserving my sore breasts to just myself. I couldn't imagine laying such complaints
Vincenzo Moreno". . .the blast which occurred on Wednesday is said to have claimed lives in the tens. The number, sadly, will likely rise. Currently, the operations of Gaspare Moreno Airways are at a standstill. Investigation is ongoing to break the perpetrators to book."The focus shifted to what used to be one of Padre's babies. The mighty structure had now been reduced to a charred mass, litters of scraps and the color 'ash'. "Many have decried the situation, stating their loved ones were involved. . ."I frowned just as the rest of the words trailed off. A guy then popped up on the screen, his mouth moving,"I can't believe this is happening. The day before, I spoke with my sister's husband, Carl. We had big plans for the trip to Thailand. Now, he is no more. What's even crazier is the fact that I wouldn't have been here speaking to you if not for the stomach bug I had."The reporter carried on, "Many can't bring themselves to speak. The only pointer to their hurt being a downcas
Rina ZanteHe'd paid a visit again. Evil in its truest form. Not hidden under the veil of pleasure, but raw, crude evil. His room oozed of dark vileness. The heavy stench flying into my nostrils, striking up a maternal instinct within me: the health of my baby. The stench could harm it.I boiled in rage. Angry, I had seen the baby as mine, not ours. As though I'd impregnated myself. As if I had wanted a child in the first place. My dark emotions reinforced the evil by thickening the putrid air.Evil was glued to his skin. His face red, the heat emanating from it almost cooked me alive. Yet, I didn't falter outwardly. Inside, my system shook. But, I didn't leave his room because I had nowhere to go. "It's yours," I tried again, now at the point of pulling out my hair in frustration. "The child is yours, Vincenzo. I haven't slept with anyone else." He knew I was right but the demon in him would rather be cast to Hades than let him admit to that. However, I didn't back down. I woul
Vincenzo MorenoI knew for a fact I liked Rina. I admired her with every bit of my being. The breath she exhaled—I could comfortably take in. The floor she walked on, a spot my lips could kiss. It beat me how the feelings hadn't died considering I had slept with her. Rather than lose interest and see her as nothing more than a cheap fuck I had at my disposal, I became more drawn to her. More fascinated with her. I couldn't place a finger on the defining feature, but Rina was everything a guy would want in a woman. I threw my closet open and picked up an outfit. Flinging it to the bed, I stood akimbo and stared. I imagined Rina seated here. On the bed, with a magazine in her hand. She looked up from what could be a write-up about Women's Health. Not that I knew what she liked; but she looked like someone who read such. She blessed my sight with a beautiful smile and there I was, crawling close. Going to offer a token of my love to her. It was a kiss motivated by anything but lust.
Rina ZanteI pulled the tapestry aside and ushered myself into the genesis of my problem. La stanza Nera. Unlike the other two times I'd been here, I was indifferent. The echo of my footsteps didn't make me quake inwardly; neither did the insane width here pushed me into agoraphobia. I set the bucket on the floor and started working. I'd changed: nothing moved me anymore. The past—to put it correctly. I had now become immune to the unwanted flashbacks and the hurt that came with them. I worked all the way to the end of the room, down to the dining and the corridor next to it. A feeling of an ominous presence fell on me, but upon looking up, I found no one. Just the living room holding my gaze. However, I couldn't be fooled. Someone had been watching. This wasn't my mind making pranks, because Vincenzo had long proved to be a psycho. I could bet on anything precious to me that he'd been here, watching. Which brought anger in its darkest shade to my heart. I could kill him. If gi
Rina Zante“What are you doing here?”He screeched to a halt and formed that look I very much hated. Bewilderment with a tinge of anger tensed his brows. But for a moment. He was able to break free from the spell and speak. His voice, everything I didn’t want to hear again. “We need to talk.”I waited to hear him say the stuff that’d make me lose it and deal heartlessly with him. His silence, however, did the trick: throwing me off my beam of patience. I started out, choosing not to flare up yet till he gave a more valid reason to. And he did just that when his suffocating form blocked my path. I pulled away, folding up as though being near him would leave a dent on my skin. “Really? This is what it is now? Playing hard to get?”I raised my gaze to him. Hatred and fury dripped from it. “You don’t have to look at me that way. I didn’t kill anyone,” he said; but rather than wipe the glare, I kept looking at him. He cussed, raking his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up. “Look
Rina ZanteAs soon as we stepped into the hallway, an alarm bell went off in my head. I fastened my feet to the ground, bringing Mammà to stop as well since we held hands. She glanced at me, looking more confused than me. "Where are we going?" I knew the answer. I just didn't want to believe it was true. When she'd told me I'd got to see something, I'd never in my unimaginative mind thought this was the something. She wore a blank look before turning around to continue walking. "Mammà," I whispered, a sense of urgency woven in my voice. "What is it? You want him to go scot-free? To keep coming after you?" Her face softened, wiping the bitter frown off. Letting out a sigh, she spoke in a calmer tone. "We have to do this. It's the only way to bring an end to the madness.""But…" I was sure as hell my defense would annoy her. Therefore, I went for a more cowardly-looking alternative. "What are we going to tell her? That her son is a…" I trailed off when it became clear to me—from Ma
Vincenzo MorenoLuigi's chant of victory shot out, joining the glaringly red 'defeat' icon to mock me. All I did was wish the game ended. "I'm really beating your ass tonight," he chirped, the glee evident in his voice. "You sure are." I wondered if he heard the disinterest in my voice; then again, I didn't care. "Yo. You okay?" Instead of replying, I went for the next round. Was I okay? Did I look like I was okay when not only Rina had rejected me, but also her mom barging in on us. Looking at me like I didn't deserve one tiny breath of air. The sad thought lingered in my mind for a while; pretty soon, I found myself focused on the combat game and began gaining control over Luigi. My avatar tossed his around like a plaything. I gamed until the thought reemerged. Rina's outright rejection. Rina pushing me away. The thought pierced my heart and broke it. Made me feel like a discarded pile of nobody. It didn't matter that I had apologized. None of that bothered her. Yet, nothin
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'