Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Matthias, is that you?”
Looking down at him, Angel noticed every mark that marred his father’s naked, filthy body. Every single one of them hadn’t existed on his pristine pale skin prior to his current situation. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought twenty years had passed since he had last seen him. That was how much he appeared to have aged.
His eyes travelled from his scarred head down his mangled body, and then to the chain that shackled his ankle to a pipe in the corner.
Angel took another step toward the man who had made twenty-three years of his life a living hell. “Hello, Father.”
Lucifer sat back when he saw Angel move more into the light, his hopeful expression gone. “Oh, it’s you.”
“I’ve always known how to disappoint you, haven’t I?”
“Without fail,” Lucifer hissed.
Walking over, Angel sat down on the filthy ground beside his father, placing his own back against the wall. He got the full view his father would enjoy for the rest of his days.
“Why did you come here? To gloat?”
“Before coming here, I thought you actually might have begged me to release you.” Turning his head, he stared into evil, black eyes. “But I realize now that was stupid.”
“I’m a Luciano. We don’t beg,” Lucifer practically spat.
No, we don’t, Angel agreed.
Sitting in the cold silence, he finally asked the question he couldn’t before. “What is it that makes you hate me so much?”
“All my sons brought something to the table, except you.” Lucifer’s brows came together, trying to find the word. “You’re neutral.”
Confused, he asked, “Neutral?”
“My sons either wanted to be me … or feared me.” Lucifer was proud to say that his lips twisted up with a smile, but then they quickly turned down. “You didn’t have either in you. Therefore, you were worthless to me.”
He knew his father had lied about how a Luciano shouldn’t fear a single thing when all he wanted was to instill fear in not only his men but his own children. The fear Lucifer had craved most was fear of him.
“Matthias, though …” Crazed laughter bounced off the walls. “I remember when I broke him. He snapped so easily. Even like this, I bet I could scare him into releasing me.”
Having heard enough shit spew from Satan’s mouth, Angel got up, the temptation to kill him too strong.
“He needs me! My children need me! The family name will not continue without me because the family’s nothing without me!” The chain around his ankle rattled as he tried to stop Angel from leaving, grabbing the bottom of Angel’s leg to get the metal object he knew he kept there.
Angel stopped him, placing his shoe on his father’s hand.
“You’re wrong, Lucifer.” Using all his weight, he pressed harder, hearing bones begin to snap. “We’re stronger without you, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you fucking live long enough to see it.” Releasing his hand, he began to walk away as Lucifer’s fanatic laughter sounded again, echoing repeatedly.
“I did you a disservice, keeping you in that closet for all that time. It made you lazy and complacent. That closet was the only space you deserved, and it’s all you’ll ever deserve.”
Angel reached out, flipping the switch to kill the lights. Darkness enveloped him, his father, and the very room they were in. The only noise to be heard was the softest, quietest rattle of the chains around Lucifer’s chest as it rose and fell.
Closing his eyes, Angel could almost taste the cherry flavoring of the candy he had come to love.
As he listened carefully, the rattling softly grew louder as Lucifer’s breathing picked up speed, rising and falling at a different pace.
“A Luciano fears nothing,” Angel whispered. “Not a train, not a bullet, not a man, not even …”
The rattling grew.
“… the darkness.”
Opening his eyes, he slid open the door, letting light pour into the room for only a few more seconds. Then Angel walked away from what he hoped would be the last time he would ever see that face, a face that scarily resembled his, reminding him every time he looked in the mirror that a monster had created him. A face and body he and his twin brother marred with tattoos, desperate to cover up that very fact. Each tattoo they had inked into their pale skin had made it easier and easier for them to look in the mirror, until they could finally face their reflections without destroying a mirror. It could drive even the strongest man insane when every time you looked at yourself, you didn’t see you but someone else, someone who had abused and tortured you your entire existence.
And out of the two of them … one had.
Angel placed his hand on the door, getting one last good look, with one final thing to say.