as-sas-sin’s love episode 15

🔫 as-sas-sIN’S
LOVE đź’•

CHAPTER 15

 

It’d been a month. One whole fv¢king month since I left Montserrat to go after the Godfather. And finally, the man I wanted revenge on was in front of to do with him as I plea-sed.

It hadn’t been easy. I’d had to devise a plan to gain the Godfather’s right hand man, Alacran’s, trust to gain access into their gang using Mateo as bait.

The first job they’d made me do was kill Mateo to prove I didn’t know him from anywhere. Finally, after four weeks, he trusted me enough to take me to see the Godfather.

I’d made sure to kill Alacran, and now I had the Godfather at my disposal.

“Who the fv¢k are you?” The Godfather asked, still tied up in a chair in the torture room at his own home.

“You’d better let me go or else…”

“Or else what?” I demanded gruffly, then said calmly. “I think we both know who’s calling the sh0ts around here so you better humble your self Godfather.”

“Who are you? Why did you pretend to be working for me? What the fv¢k do you want?”

I began pacing around him. “I’m here to sÂŁnd you to hell.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

That made me chuckle, a chuckle filled with pure evil and a pas-sion for revenge. “Oh how I love it when people challenge me. It only grants me the opportunity to show how brutal I can be.”

“Who is paying you?” His voice sounded more desperate than demanding.

“Now that’s the interesting p@rt.”
Feeling for the back pocket of my p@n-ts, I brou-ght out a small pocket knife and fisted it. “Nob©dy’s paying me.”

“You pretended to be working for Alacran just to gain access to me. Someb©dy had to have sÂŁnt you.”

Leaning down, I placed both hands on his chair and glared into his terrified eyes. “No one is paying me, but I take out bad guys. You’ve been on my target list for years, because you deserve to die. You deserve to die for every throat you’ve slit. Every stomach you’ve stabbe-d. Every head you’ve sh0t.”

I was going to put an end to the reign of terror and adoration he’d held over the people of this town for so long. All those years of murders and ma-king people look over their shoulders.

“Is there a p@rticular reason why you’re doing this?” He snapped.

“Oh yes, there is.” I answered. “Fiteen years ago, you had my parents murdered. My dad was a cop, and he threatened to expo-se you to the whole city the man you truly are.”

He stayed silent, glaring at me. I continued circling him.

“Of course, you’ve had so many people killed that you won’t remember. Just as you probably won’t remember three of the men you sÂŁnt to kill him.”

I paused in front of him. “Let me try to refresh your memory. Six years ago, one of your men turned up in town beaten to death. A week later, another was found, killed the same way. That was me. Fortunately for the third person, he was alre-ady dead and so I didn’t get the chance to exact my revenge on him.”

“However, you’ll probably remember the fourth person. Your former right hand man. Found in a warehouse with five knife wounds on his lifeless b©dy with his eyes taken out.

If The Godfather looked afraid before, now he looked terrified.

“Th… That was you?”

“Yes.”

“What do you want in exchange to let me go? You. . . you can be my right hand man. You can. . . even be my p@rtner. Enjoy all the privileges I do.”

He smiled as if he was expecting me to accept his offer.

I smiled cynically. “Can’t say I’m surprised by that offer you’re ma-king. How can you even expect me to be working with the man who had my parents killed?”

“Fortunately, I don’t want any of that. But I’m a very good listener. I may consider sparing your life if only you convince me on why you don’t deserve to die. By begging.” I stood straight, waiting for his reaction.

As expected, he scowled defiantly at me. “That’ll never happen.” He spat out ravenously.

“Your choice.” Without warning, I pu-ll-ed the blade out of the pocket knife I was holding and drove it into his left eye.

He let out a bellow of pain as his b©dy shook to get free of the restraints. I’d made sure to tie his arms behind him around the chair. His whole b©dy was tied up. Blood oozed from the eyes I’d just bur-sted as he continued to yell.

“Do you still think I’m joking?” I sneered against his ear, watching the knife still stuck in his eye.

I wanted him to beg for his life. Just like most of his victims had obviously done. Then I would turn a deaf ear, just like he’d always done.

“You bastard. I’m going to kill you. I’m going to kill you.” He kept on threatening, still howling.

I pu-ll-ed the knife out of his left eye and plunged it into his right eye. The scream I received this time obviously reached the heavens.

“plea-se st©p. St©p!” He managed between his painful gro-an s.

He looked so pathetic begging like that with no eyes and blood streaming down his face, and it only made me smile bitterly.

Images of my father lying down on the ground begging for his life and my mother’s flashed before my eyes.

I pu-ll-ed a kitchen knife I’d stuck in a holster out. Unsheating the blade, I shoved it into the man’s belly. He yelled. I pu-ll-ed the blade out and plowed it in another sp©t. He yelled louder.

Over and over, I stabbe-d him ten times, twice the number of times my dad had been stabbe-d, targeting the exact sp©ts I knew didn’t cause quic-k death. His scream turned into m0@n s of resignation.

pu-lling out the knife from his belly, I brou-ght it to his n£¢k and began slicing. I didn’t want him to die just yet, so I made the pressure just enough to cut lightly. Vein by vein. Tissue by tissue. He managed some howls of pain.

“I was there. Hidden in the closet and too afraid to come out. I watched my parents being killed. They pleaded, they begged, but nothing swayed your men because they were following your orders.”

The memories turned my rage notches up. pu-lling the knife away from his n£¢k, I plunged it into his stomach and twisted it repeatedly. I wanted to hear him scream, and that’s exactly what he did.

Leaving the knife buried in his stomach, I retreated into the darkness. I watched him breathing painfully, listened to his gro-an s of pain until the life very slowly left his b©dy.

One less bad person in the world. This town was going to be such a better place.

Now I nee-ded to figure out how to get out of here without getting myself killed. I’m sure you’ve had to deal with enough violence so I’m going to spare you the details of how I took down the guards that secured the driveway.

Basically, when I c@m£ out alone without Alacran, suspicions ran high. I snapped the n£¢k of the first guard by the door and sh0t the other.

There was a shootout where I used the b©dy of one of the dead guards as shield before ducking behind Alacran’s car.

Since I wasn’t one to waste bullets, I only fired six in the shootout at the right opportunities. And all the other guards were dead.

Slowly, I made my way down the driveway to where the bu-tton for entry was. Pressing on it, I watched as the earth lowered and fell before me. I climbe-d the incline and got out, and the earth automatically closed again.

It was raining. Ironic how it’d also rained the night my parents were killed. It was like they were sÂŁnding me a message.

A powerful surge of emotion swept throu-gh me, and I crumpled to my knees. I broke down and cried like I hadn’t done in more than a decade. The rain beat down on me, mixing with my tears and soaking me we-t.

I’d finally managed to achieve my ultimate mission. I’d finally taken revenge for my parents death.

Even if it didn’t give me the bliss I’d always imagined killing The Godfather would give me, I didn’t feel an ounce of regret.

Getting to my feet, I looked at the sp©t where the opening to the ground was. It was so damn concealed no one would suspect someone was living un-derground.

While leaving the day Alacran had brou-ght me here, I’d asked him if the bu-tton inside was the only way to crack the opening.

He’d evasively told me there was something around that could open it from the outside without the bu-tton from the inside. I hadn’t pressed him for more because I didn’t want to risk any suspicions.

Not that I cared. I was leaving this world of vigilanteesm and violence and it meant cutting loose every aspect of it.

I was finally going to be the kind of man my Montserrat deserved.

TBC…

Finally Mikhail has gotten his revenge. But was he too wicked?