Episode 5

"What's the butcher's game?" Alma inquired.

"My dear, it's nothing, your brother simply enjoys visiting the butcher shop!" Mom said, taking Alma's hand affectionately.

"Ha." Alma and Alex started chatting about cartoons among themselves, while we adults spoke in codes so they wouldn't understand what we were saying. Mom doesn't like us talking about certain things in front of Alma and Alex.

Mother cherishes the innocence of our younger siblings, sometimes I feel she loves them more for being normal kids, more than Alessia and me.

I watched as Mom laughed with them while they kept spouting silly things.

"Alessandro!" my father called, snapping me out of my dark thoughts.

"Yes, Dad?" I turned to look at him; sometimes I feel he can read my mind, and I hate that he might. I think I secretly resent them all for being happy while I, I don't know what's wrong with me.

"We don't involve family," he said, and I looked away from my siblings, envious because they have had the love of both a father and a mother since birth, unlike me who endured six years in hell.

"Okay, Dad. How's the business? I saw you got new earphones," I commented with a smile while biting into a piece of bread from the table.

"They're wireless and very good, but they don't block out all the stupidity people say," Dad replied.

"Yeah, Uncle Javier told me you almost hit somebody yesterday," I said, and he smiled.

"He's already dead," he said quietly, so the twins wouldn't overhear, but they were too engrossed in laughing with Mom to have heard.

"How?" Alessia excitedly inquired, her eyes shining with anticipation for a grand story.

"Kids, go up to your room and take a bath!" Mom told the twins as they had finished eating. So off they ran.

"Do we have to talk about this at the table?" Mom asked, standing up.

"Dad, tell us how you killed him!" Alessia asked again, with that particular sparkle in her eyes.

"What did he do to you?" I asked him.

"He called your mother a damned bitch," Dad declared. Even I would have killed him for that.

"Dad, how did you...?" she began to ask when our father started to speak, recounting his story.

"I followed him home, told him I'd forgotten something at the office. The idiot invited me in. His wife was there, so I waited. She was kind, offered me a drink, which I accepted. Then we started talking business in his study. When his wife walked in, she mentioned she was going out shopping. I said I'd be leaving too, so we went outside together, I left before her to make sure she saw me.

"But why'd you leave, Dad? Weren't you supposed to kill him?" Alessia asked, not understanding. She forgets that Dad is a sociopath who first gains his victims' trust as it should be, not like her, although I'm not quite sure what she is anymore.

"A good sociopath knows when to strike, and in doing so, I won my victim's trust. Plus, it was necessary to leave in order to have witnesses that it wasn't me who did it since I left before the wife. But then I returned with the excuse that I'd forgotten my phone. He let me in, led me to his study where my phone was; I took it, and as he walked ahead of me, I strangled him with a rope and pinned him to the ground.

As he started to turn blue, I didn't want him dead yet; I wanted him to know why I would kill him, so I let him breathe. I told him no one speaks about my wife that way. Then I dragged him by the arms to the kitchen, where I first cut out his tongue to keep him from screaming. He bled out, choking on his own blood – a spectacle so delightful it excites me just to recall.

Next, I grabbed a knife and started cutting off his limbs; it was so fun, cutting him into pieces. I moved everything around their house. Thankfully, I wore gloves and made sure to leave no trace – you must never leave prints, or they could trace it back to you.

I messed up all the rooms and left a message with a disposable phone, exited the house as if nothing had happened, changed clothes in the car, and left. Then I called your mother to hack the neighborhood's surveillance cameras so it wouldn't show me returning.

After that, I went home, made love to my wife, and went to pick you up from the warehouse."

"You really had a good day, Dad," I said, offering a smile.

"Dad, when I grow up, I want to be just like you. I admire you!" Alessia exclaimed.

We all started to laugh.

After a few minutes, Alessia stood up and said, "I have to go. I'm meeting with some friends."

"And I'm going to visit Stefy," I said.

"Take care," our father said as he stood up.

"Yes, Dad."

Alessia hurried upstairs to her room, and I remained with Dad.

"Can I borrow one of your cars?" I asked.

"Not the red one, and go buy your own," he said, pointing to the keys on the entry table.

"I will, this week."

I walked over to where the keys were and picked up the ones for the red car, smiling as I walked away from the house toward the garage where the cars were parked.

Opening the door, I was surprised to find Alessia sitting in the car.

"What the hell are you doing here, Alessia? You almost gave me a heart attack!" She started laughing while I pressed my hand against my chest.

"I escaped through the window. But, dear brother, can you give me a ride? I thought you’d pick this car; it's your favorite of Dad's. Come on, give me a lift, please, and I'll be a good sister," she said, narrowing her eyes with a sweet smile on her face.

"Stop pretending with me. Your feigned innocence doesn't surprise or move me."

"I hate you!" she exclaimed, crossing her arms and then preparing to leave the car.

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