“Look around. Does it look like anyone misses me? They’re just happy to be in a party with good music, free spiked drinks and I’m sure there are guys smoking weed at the pool deck,” Tom said laughing. He had soon satisfied his hunger and drank about two full red cups of the drink. He glanced at Donna. Her outfit complimented her body features.
“Hi Tom!” a bunch of high school girls yelled as they saw Tom. Tom nodded in response. He wasn’t a party person, but he wanted to maintain an image.
Donna had always been obsessed with Tom since she met him. She was the reason his multiple relationships ended. But despite all, she was a nice person. He felt comfortable enough to hang out with her though, her obsession got in the way at times.
“How do you do it?” she asked.
“What?” he asked. The loud music made it difficult to hear.
“Staying all day without leaving your room. You must get bored up there,” she said.
“I don’t know. I barely stay home these days,” Tom replied, trying to end the conversation.
“Oh then you must have enjoyed your one day off in your bedroom,” she added.
“Yeah kinda,” he replied lackadaisically.
“I’m a bad host,” Tom added with a little humor.
“Why?” Donna asked.
“Because I’m supposed to be serving you and here you are serving me,” Tom said.
“I’m not a guest here remember?” Donna replied. There was a brief silence.
“Am I preventing you from enjoying this party?” Tom asked, trying to be a gentleman.
“Nope!” she said as she gulped two cups of alcohol punch.
“You want to dance?” She asked flirtatiously.
“I’m not a good dancer,” Tom replied.
“I’m not asking you if you’re Michael Jackson. If you can move, you’re fine, I’ll do the rest,” Donna replied. She dragged Tom to the dance floor – he was reluctant, but powerless against her charm. Tom had had too much to drink. Though, he was sober enough to know that it was a bad idea to dance with Donna in the presence of everyone.
The entire junior and senior class was present, except Nina. He worried about gossip, but it didn’t stop him from dancing. The music became louder and more people began to stagger. Like any good party, tons of people had passed out on the floor. Tom imagined how furious Bernard would be in the morning.
“I don’t do too well dancing in public,” Tom said, looking around for Nina’s friends. None of them were in sight. Other girls gave him flirtatious stares, but he wasn’t interested.
“So tell me something! You won’t dance in your own party and you spend so much time in your room. Will you at least talk about something?” Donna slurred her speech.
“Talk about what?” Tom replied.
“Anything,” she replied back.
“Like what?” Tom replied, brushing his hands through his dark silky hair.
“Like why you and your sisters go to school separately with huge men following you?” she replied
Tom took a gulp of juice. He pondered about a pretentious answer to her question.
“I can’t say, but those ‘huge men’ are obviously bodyguards,” he replied sarcastically. She gazed at him, totally ignoring his sarcastic reply.
“You look sad Tom! There’s too much worry in your eyes. What are you worried about? What are you anxious about?” she said, walking closer. She gazed into his eyes.
“I’m tired. That’s all,” he lied.
“It’s more than that. Life is too short, we can’t spend all of it running away from what is not chasing us, we just have to let go,” she said. She held his right hand. His mind was preoccupied with the death of Purio Maccuzo. His heart was too hardened and he needed something to take his mind off it.
“I’m okay now,” he said, removing his hands from under hers gently.
“No I don’t think you are okay,” she replied.
“Well thanks,” he said sarcastically. “I need to quickly check on the others,” He said as he went to the pool area where Scott and his other friends were. They seemed to be having their own mini party with beer and weed.
“Hi Tom! Dope Party!” Scott’s girlfriend said. Tom had no idea who she was, but smiled back in response.
“I need to talk to you.” Tom said. “Not now man! Chill! Smoke some weed. It’s your party!” Scott replied.
“C’mon man! It’s important!”
“Na I’m on a holiday right now, Tom. No business will be discussed,” Scott joked. Tom scoffed. Scott was too intoxicated to understand anything. He went back into the building.
“You’re back!” Donna said. Tom sighed, frustrated. His attempt to avoid her was futile. Just then, the DJ noticed him.
“And my man! Tom Olivetti is in the building!!!” the DJ announced with his microphone. “Give it up for Tom for throwing this dope ass party!” the DJ yelled as an entire crowd of people cheered. Tom smiled back in response. He walked up to the microphone – perfect opportunity to escape Donna.
“I hope you guys are having fun!!” Tom said. The crowd yelled.
“Well, if you’re not, make sure you do because it’s about to get crazier here!!” Tom added in a tone of excitement. The crowd yelled again. “Tommy! Tommy!” Some girls threw themselves at him, trying to dance. He stylishly avoided them then ran up the stairs to his room to avoid any further attention.
He opened his room door and closed it behind him as he turned on his light switch.
“Hi Tom!” Donna said, half naked.
“Coming. Who is it?” Purio Maccuzo said as he looked through the peephole. He saw two men in suits standing in the hallway.
“It’s the FBI, we have a warrant to search your apartment!” Dean said as he flashed an FBI badge. Purio Maccuzo was startled. There was no way the FBI could have tracked him down that fast. Someone must have tipped them up.
“Hold on a minute,” Purio said as he discarded anything that could implicate him. He packed all his weapons and threw it out the window.
“Open up Mr. Maccuzo!” The voice at the door yelled.
“Fuck!” He walked up to the door and unlocked it.
Suddenly, four men barged into the apartment. All had weapons and one was holding a duffel bag.
“You have a right to remain silent!” Dean said. He briskly analyzed the four men and scoffed in anger.
“You’re not the FBI!” Purio replied as he realized his folly. They had Italian mafia written all over them. Dean locked the door.
He tried to fight his way through, but they pinned him down. Bobby closed the curtains, locked the windows and switched all the lights off. He left the lamp light on.
“Everything you say may be used against you in the court of law,” Raphael, one of the Olivetti guards said laughing sadistically. Purio threw a punch at Raphael. Blood gushed out of his nose.
“My nose!” He yelled in pain as he knocked Purio to the floor with his gun. The others kicked Purio continuously.
“Sit him down! And turn on his sound deck. Let people think he is listening to music,” Dean said to the other guards in the room.
Jack gazed at Dean. He could automatically tell that Dean was used to mindless torture. Bobby and Raphael lifted Purio up then placed him on one of his wooden dining chairs. Raphael’s nose was still bleeding.
“Clean your mess up,” Dean said to Raphael. Raphael brought out a handkerchief to wipe the blood off his nose.
“Hi! Remember me?” Dean asked, looking into Purio’s face as Bobby and Jack were tying up Purio. Purio gathered up bloody saliva in his mouth then spat on Dean’s face, leaving a drooling smudge on his cheeks.
“You asshole!” Dean said in anger. He hit Purio on his head with a gun several times.
“Handle him,” Dean said in a state of livid anger. He turning his back away from purio, brought out a handkerchief from his pocket then wiped the saliva off his face. Bobby brought out a masking tape then placed it on Purio’s mouth.
<
br /> “That’s so you don’t spit on anyone else,” Bobby joked. Raphael walked up to Purio furiously. With one hard swing, he hit Purio in the eye fiercely.
“That’s for my nose,” Raphael said while holding his nose with one hand.
“Let’s do this quick,” Jack said. He pointed his gun at Purio, desperate to end the man’s pain. A quick kill seemed to be more humane than Dean’s plan.
“No!” Dean commanded.
“Let’s kill him slowly,” Dean added. “We have all night and no one will hear you die,” Raphael said as he turned the volume of the sound system up.
Bobby opened his duffel bag and placed it on a table. He displayed his torture tools in an attempt to scare Purio. It was working well. His eyes were wide with terror. His heart rate quadrupled. Sweat and tears emerged on his face. His muscles were tense, but his eyes were soft with pity. Dean placed his hands on a hammer and smiled.
“I got this from a friend, a carpenter to be precise. I told him I have wood to work on. He recommended this. He said it prevents a dangerous bounce back. I asked him what he meant, he said it gets any nail in with one hit,” Dean said with an evil smile on his face.
Purio screamed but the tape on his mouth prevented his voice from being heard. Sweat drowned his face. Raphael held him down gracefully. Dean brought out a nail and a hammer from the bag, placed it on Purio’s right foot then hammered the nail on his legs. “This will prevent you from moving and making any sudden movements,” Dean said. He struggled, kicked, groaned, cried and cussed, but all was to no avail. The three men holding him down were much stronger. He was weak and the torture was just starting.
“None of us will get kicked! We know you’re a resourceful weapon for the Cartels. We will send them a clear message tonight. The Olivettis aren’t to be messed with,” Dean said. Jack watched in horror as Dean hammered another nail into Purio’s foot.
Purio yelled in pain. A pool of blood emerged on the floor. His face was filled with bruises. He tried to escape despite the logic. Raphael held him down firmly.
“You fucking like pain huh?” Bobby said, smiling heartlessly as he nailed Purio’s left leg to the floor.
“Aw he has tears! Let’s see what happens if I use the chisel,” Bobby said. The others laughed.
Bobby grabbed a chisel from the tool bag then stabbed Purio’s hand to the chair, blood splashed all over bobby’s face. Purio yelled in pain but no one heard – the music from his sound deck was too loud. So loud, he couldn’t hear himself scream.
“You’re lucky your blood didn’t stain my brand new coat,” Bobby said as he wiped off the blood on his face.
Raphael looked towards the kitchen.
“That’s so sweet, he was expecting us. He’s making dinner…” Raphael said. He tasted Purio’s salad with a fork.
“Tastes nice. I didn’t know a Hitman could cook,” Raphael said.
“Oh there’s boiling pasta too?” Raphael said as he took two napkins to grab the pot of boiling pasta.
“Hi Mr. Maccuzo! Dinner is served!” Raphael said as he poured the pot of hot boiling pasta on Purio’s body. Purio wriggled helplessly. The pain was too much. It was unbearable. He screamed as the hot water sipped through his pores. He almost fell from the chair, but his legs were nailed to the floor, making the pain more unbearable. He growled in pain. Everyone laughed except Jack.
They watched as steam emitted from Purio’s body. His skin became mushy. The smell of cooked blood became more apparent in the room.
“Hey! Let’s just kill him and get it over with,” Jack said in an impatient tone. He was highly uncomfortable and disgusted by Purio’s current situation. He was also surprised a human was capable of sustaining that much pain.
“Hey Jack! Suck it up! Stop being a sour puss! No one messes with the Olivettis. We are sending a message out there to any high-earned assassin who gets any fancy ideas about the bounty. I’m sure Tom is happy about what we are doing now,” Dean replied.
“Man, have fun!” Bobby said. He patted Jack on the shoulder. Jack managed to force a smile, scared of what might happen if he didn’t cooperate.
“Okay more pain,” Jack said. He stepped on Purio’s leg as hard as possible. Purio’s was fatigued. He had passed out many times, but the pain always woke him up. He had screamed so much, his vocal cords felt like a knife. His face was no longer recognizable. It was a mass of flesh that wasn’t flesh anymore. Steam erupted from his body like cooked meat.
Dean picked up a sledgehammer. “Now let’s find out who hired you,” Dean said as he signaled Bobby to remove the tape from his mouth. The pain was glaring. The hot water had melted the tape on his face.
Purio screamed again as the tape ripped part of his flesh.
“So who hired you?” Dean asked. He lifted his sledgehammer. “No one!” Purio struggled to say. His lips ripped with each word.
Dean hit the sledgehammer on Purio’s rib without hesitating. His ribs crack like firecrackers on Fourth of July. Raphael brought out a saw.
“Who sent you?!!” he yelled again.
Purio slowly drifted into a state of unconsciousness due to the unbearable pain, “The Sanchez family,” Purio said without hesitating.
“Good boy, but that’s useless information,” Dean said. He placed the sledgehammer into the bag.
“I love this,” Raphael said sadistically.
“Now, I’m going to cut of the finger you use in shooting people,” Raphael said. He placed Purio’s right hand on the chair’s armrest.
“Do you have any other friends who are trying to kill the Olivettis?” Raphael asked. Purio shook his head.
“It’s a free for all market. Whoever kills them gets the reward. I don’t know! I swear,” Purio begged. Raphael hammered a nail into Purio’s trigger finger. Blood splashed on Raphael’s coat.
“Shit! My two hundred dollar coat!” Raphael said. He slapped Purio’s face.
“It’s enough!” Dean finally said.
“Pack up!” Dean added. Bobby and Raphael packed up all their kits. Dean pointed his gun at Purio.
“No! Let me handle this!” Jack said, pulling out his gun. They all stared at him. Jack stared back.
“I’ll meet you guys in the car,” Jack added panting furiously. He signaled them to get out. Raphael threw a body bag to Jack.
“Don’t forget to clean up the mess, we have twenty minutes left,” Bobby said as he walked out of the apartment.
“Yeah and by the way, Mr. Maccuzo, thanks for the meal,” Raphael said as he walked out of the apartment with a bowl of fresh salad and salad cream. They chuckled.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” Dean asked, suspicious of Jack’s intentions. Jack nodded. He sighed, “Okay if you say so.” Dean walked out of the apartment then shut the door behind him. He waited by the door to make sure. He heard two gunshots. He smiled, satisfied and fulfilled. He walked away.
10
The sunlightfiltered through the curtains, the birds chirruped and the smell of alcohol filled Tom’s room. He moaned as he woke up – he had an intense headache. He sat up to realize he had slept on the couch in his room. The fact that he even slept at all eluded him. He hadn’t had a full night sleep without his recurring nightmares in months. He tried to recollect his dreams like he usually did, but couldn’t remember having any nightmares. “What?” he thought. Strange.
He got up then walked to his bed. He observed how untidy the bed was. It looked like someone slept there. At least, two people. Both sides of his king sized bed were wrinkled. He never slept on both sides of the bed.
“Gosh! What happened here last night?” he said to himself. No one was on the bed and no one was in his room. He sat down on the bed, dumbfounded. He tried to trace his memories. He was hung-over and confused. He began to have flashbacks. He remembered being hungry, walking downstairs to the party, having a couple of drinks, giving a mini speech during his party and seeing Donna. Then he remembered her laughing, dancing and flirting, but what happ
ened after that?
Just then, his cell phone rang. He glanced around his room for it, hoping it was Dean with good news of Purio’s death. He finally found it on the carpet, near the mirror.
“What’s it doing there?” he thought to himself. He quickly brushed the thoughts aside as he picked up his cell phone. It was Dean.
“Hello?” Tom said.
“Been calling you all night. It’s done boss,” Dean said.
“Cleared all the mess?” Tom asked with relief.
“Yes!” Dean replied.
“Good!” Tom said with a smile.
“Bury him somewhere no one knows. Did you find out who hired him?” Tom asked
“Sanchez family – They have put a high price on your heads,” Dean replied briefly.
“Thought so. Talk to you later,” Tom said, hanging up abruptly with a smile.
He was happy, but a part of him felt incomplete. He had expected a deeper sense of relief. His thirst for revenge wasn’t satisfied. Though, a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. He felt a little lightheaded.
For months, he couldn’t sleep and now not only did he sleep all night, he had no nightmares. Maybe it was the alcohol; maybe it was the satisfaction that he was getting closer and closer to annihilating his family’s enemies.
Just then, he heard the toilet flush. He turned towards his bathroom. The sound of the sink’s tap came on then turned off. Donna walked into the room.
“Hi Tom,” she said in an excited tone. She was half dressed. Her face glistened with a smile he couldn’t comprehend. He was confused. He was in celebration mode. He wanted to enjoy some alone time for what he had just accomplished. Yet, Donna was in his room, obstructing his happiness. He gazed at her as she moved closer to his bed. It all began to make sense. His memories began to come back. A much clearer picture of the night before began to emerge.
He remembered walking into the room the previous night with a stunning surprise – Donna, naked. He glanced at the couch; her hair band was on it. He glanced at his bed; her bracelet was on it and so was his watch. Everything became clearer to him. He was drunk and mesmerized by Donna’s seduction. He couldn’t remember kissing her, but he was sure it happened. Afterwards, they moved to the bed where Tom began talking about a lot of things that bothered his mind - he wasn’t sure what exactly he talked about yet.
Olivetti: Inception Page 7
