Angelo had left his room soon after Jazelle had managed to invade his space to find his morning coffee. He was currently occupying the Kuron household, who ran the mafia, because he had nowhere else to go. Most of the lieutenants stayed there, including Angelo even though he wasn't one, and any others who were worthy of living in the same space as the Don. Some of the enforcers remained there as well – such as Jose, his mentor figure.
As he walkthrough through the halls, he felt sharp eyes land on him. An Italian man of maybe 5'6" (167 centimetres) in height glared him down as if daggers could shoot out from his eyes. Angelo knew who this was: a lieutenant of the Don's, named Dominik. This guy had to be the most annoying of the bunch, and he especially hated Angelo. Something about how he refused to talk, but Angelo didn't really care. He would live as he would, and whoever complained had decided their fate already.
"Well, well," The man mused as Angelo passed. "Look who finally woke up. Did you sleep well, Blaze?"
Blaze. That was the name the Don had given him, who said every mafia member needed a name that would instil fear into those who heard it. Everyone called him that… Blaze. He hated it. Angelo hadn't heard his true name in years, the name his mother gave him. The name he would never let go, nor forget. His name was Angelo, and whoever said otherwise, were just liars.
"Did you dream of your precious mama again?"
Angelo slowed down, his steps faltering ever so slightly. As soon as he managed to think of his mother, that bastard spoke of her, and he wanted to still. However, he refused to; that was exactly what Dominik wanted from him, to see him waver and break. He wasn't about to allow that weakness to be shown… so he kept going down the hall.
"I heard that she screamed."
Angelo stopped in his tracks, his shoulders feeling as if they were bristling with needles. He was frozen now, staring at nothing ahead of him. His vision swam with colours and the void of black, like he was losing sight of his goal. How dare that man speak of her as if she were nothing but a common casualty…
"Poor thing," Dominik tsked. "Weren't you there? What was it like?"
Angelo felt his back prickle with tensions, his shoulders rise up as anger took hold, his throat close as if to keep from screaming his silent cry. As if the hackles of a wild animal, he crumpled his hands into fists, ready to strike something if it moved the wrong way.
"I heard you didn't cry." Dominik went on. "Didn't even scream when she went down. How dutiful of her own son, Blaze."
Angelo remained silent as he heard Dominik straighten himself from the wall he was leaning on and walk up behind him. The lieutenant was taking far too careless a step towards him; a mistake. Angelo would let him make that mistake.
"Everyone is wondering, Blaze," He mused as he stopped behind him. "Did she beg?"
Angelo turned – fast, sharp, without so much as a damn falter in his step this time. Fire built at his knuckles, and a crisp punch would land right across Dominik's pretty, perfect face. The man didn't look surprised, much less fazed, but he managed to raise a hand with a smirk to rub at the raw and red skin.
However, Angelo wasn't stopping there. He lashed out a leg, twisting it behind Dominik's and forcing him to fall down to his knees. The man was now clearly getting concerned that Angelo was going father than he originally thought, but this asshole just insulted his mother. There was no way he wouldn't go as far as he possibly could.
She didn't beg, He thought bitterly. She would never beg to men like him.
A fist jabbed out, and Angelo punched him straight in the throat. When you were small like Angelo, you learned to use people's sizes to your advantage. So now having him choking and coughing vigorously, already falling back, Angelo jumped forward and shoved him straight to the ground.
Dominik's legs were pinned under his own body, folded like a contortion artist's that was just getting started to show off their moves, but a man like Dominik wasn't used to a position like these. A position where all the muscles in his legs were pulled, and he didn't know how to get out of it. He couldn't kick, struggle, he was just stuck in place.
Good.
Angelo started hitting him – hard. Hard enough to split his lip, hard enough to bruise his eyes, hard enough to break his stupid ugly nose . The lieutenant was bloody and screaming with a crooked snout by the time guards came forward and pulled Angelo off kicking and snarling. No noise, just pure feral rage.
One last kick to the chin, and the lieutenant was coughing and sputtering obscenities in Italian. He started to sit up as guards held Angelo at bay, teeth grit and eyes gleaming like embers. The man had one eye already puffing up as he grit his scarlet teeth at him.
"You little psycho!" He screamed. "Wait until the Don hears about this!"
Angelo didn't care, hissing and spitting like an angry cat, baring his teeth angrily. It took a moment for him to calm down, the guards holding him back as he took gasps of air, but the guy was yelling at him the whole time. He gave up on listening to his repeated dialogue a while ago.
Finally, after he was no longer scrambling to tear this man apart, the guards let him go – albeit, with a distance between him and Dominik. Angelo didn't do much else at this point, simply glaring down the lieutenant with such a wild look that it almost made him shut up right then and there.
However, the more Angelo stood there, the more he realised: he let the anger take him. He let himself be overcome by rage, and he was just like every other man and woman in this damn household. A vengeful monster striving for death. The more he thought about it, the more all he wanted to do was… run.
And he did.